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compressingsins · 16 days

Text

|| Mismatched

Yandere Grimmjow x Chubby f!reader

Warnings : Insecure reader, obsessed Grimmjow, body worship, aftercare, very touchy Grimmjow, little plot, detailed nsfw, marking. This is a nsfw 18+ fic, minors please do not interact.

“I want you to be mine, woman.”

Hello all! So I’m back (I’m not dead!), but this is just my comeback post! I know I haven’t posted in an entire year, but now I’m back and I’m gonna try to post more! I have a bunch of drafts I need to finish, so this is just like a post to show I’m still posting! Even if it flops which it might, I wanted to post something and here it is! Grimmjow is a hottie with little recognition, so here ya go!

Please do not copy or rewrite my works without my permission. 🫥

How'd you end up in a cave in Huecho Mundo with an Espada, was a long story. You're a Soul Reaper, yet he hasn't tried attacking you, not even once even if you did attack him. You were previously injured and when the Espada took you away, he treated your wounds at the best of his abilities, which honestly confused you. You've seen this Espada in action before, Grimmjow, one of Aizens strongest subordinates.

He frightened you of course, and you were even more petrified as you didn't know what he was planning on doing with you. What's even weirder is that you could sense no intentions of harming you, from him, his body sitting across from yours seeming carefree. It's almost like the Espada was... protecting you, or whatever you honestly had no idea. You weren't going to let your guard down to him completely, still watching him closely from afar.

The light of your Kido spell displaying your shadows, both of you sitting on opposite sides of the cave you were in. There was no fear in your body, but you had kept your eyes on the cyan haired male, though he was looking at the ground in silence. With a low sigh, you gulped to question him but you were cautious and simply wanted to know one thing. Once you cleared your throat, Grimmjow looked up at you across from him.

"Why... why am I here?"

Your body tensed from the sharp glare he sent you, and your nerves went into overdrive once he stood up. Still sore and injured from your previous battle with a Hollow, you tried your best in just backing away from the Espada, unaware of what he was doing. You flinched and pulled your hands in front of your face, shielding yourself as he crouched inches before you.

You were surprised since he didn't do anything, slowly dropping your hands from your face to see him looking unexpectedly calm. When you've seen him, he was always loud and aggressive, energetic and dangerous but for whatever reason, you didn't feel in danger right now. Why he was being this way with you was so unknown, as you didn't dare question him for it may upset him.

"Put your hands down, I'm not gonna hurt you, woman."

Only being able to look at him, you slowly let your hands drop to your sides and eyed the male who continued staring into your eyes. There was something in his eyes, like a hint of peace, sadness and concern but it was odd to you. If he was feeling like this, why, you didn't know but still you didn't want to cut him off. He was inches away from you, though, and it didn't fail to make you flustered.

"What's your name?"

An arched eyebrow displayed your confusion, Grimmjow still waiting patiently for you to say something. That patience, however, quickly ran out as his aggressive voice rung in your ears.

"I said tell me your damn name, girl."

You jumped from that, your words almost instantly coming out but it didn't help the second of fear that penetrated your body, stuttering a bit over your words.

"It- it's ____..."

"____."

The way he repeated your name was... well something you didn't expect, something cute and honestly you wanted to hear him say it again. You weren't being weird with yourself or anything, but you just wanted to hear it again because he said it, like it meant something to him. Your name wasn't a name that was big or important, so that's why it made you feel the way it did.

You didn't want to upset him or anything but you had a question for him, biting your lip before your eyes trailed back to his face. The mask on his face interested you and it failed to scare you, and you found him particularly... sweet, in a way? He treated your wounds when he didn't have to, and with his clothes that he shredded to patch up the cuts amongst your skin.

Gulping harshly on your spit, swallowing the lump in your throat, you prepared yourself once more to question him.

"May I ask... why did you, bring me... here?"

An ice cold glare was shot at you, making your breath hitch and your body once again began to try and instinctively retreat. Once he saw that, his blue eyes softened and stared you down like before, calm and collected. Still, he didn't seem of a threat or like he was going to harm you so almost instantly, you relaxed.

"I want you to be mine, woman."

You couldn't believe how straight forward he was, a gasp of air escaping you a second after hearing his bold words. Was he serious, you're a Soul Reaper and he's an Espada, that was near impossible. Besides, you think you're basic and he's particularly handsome, so you didn't understand why he supposedly wanted you.

Also as a different race, you would expect him to want one of the same as him and not an enemy. You were honestly going to deny it but you didn't know how to, maybe he'd get upset and aggressive like he usually is when you see him in the World of the Living. You knew you couldn't match him at all, so you didn't want to risk that besides the fact that you're still injured.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

You couldn't tell if he was serious or not but you were all ears right now, curious as to why he wanted you to be his. You didn't know what he really wanted and maybe his words were true but it too made you think that it was all a trick, a trick to give up information. You really didn't have any but you had enough, some that would be very futile to give up.

"We're enemies, why? That doesn't seem... logical."

For a brief moment he was silent, observing your face that was slightly contorted in confusion. A growl emitted from his throat, overflowing through his mouth once it opened to speak.

"You interested me, when I first saw you. Originally, I was just supposed to bring you back with me but seeing you on multiple occasions made me fall for you. Aizen wants me to bring you back for information, but I don't give a shit what he wants. I want you here with me even if you or anyone else doesn't like it."

"Why me? I'm a Soul Reaper and you're-"

"I know what the hell I am!"

His outburst caused your entire body to shudder with slight fear, but he calmed once he saw how scared you looked after that.

"I can't explain it but when I first saw you, something about you attached me. That's never happened before, with anyone, and I hate myself for feeling this way about you. Can't even fucking focus... just because you're on my damn mind."

He seemed like he was dying to tell someone this, specifically you, and it was kinda nice knowing someone felt like this about you. Still you didn't know if it was real or not, but you found your heart warming from listening to him speak. He was kinda... cute acting like this, making your body heat up with comfort that unexpectedly indulged your body.

"You're staying here to live with me, ____."

That shot a dart of fear through your body, hoping he wasn't serious with his words. You didn't want to leave your home and live in a World full of Hollows, though he is an Espada, a strong one at that. That still didn't make a difference because you didn't know him, nor did you want to stay in this hell of a place, leaving your friends.

"But I have a life in the Soul Society and the World of the Living..."

Your words were quiet, shallow and it's obvious why they were. He seemed to have expected your timid and shy behavior, staring into your face with a sense of worry, worry that he'd have to force you to stay here with him. He didn't want to have to do that but he would, if you wouldn't willingly come. His question though, grabbed your attention...

"Come on, can you honestly say you're happy living there? Yeah, letting people talk shit and treat you any type of way isn't living. That's tolerating that shit..."

You could honestly say you agreed with him, gasping and looking into his eyes that shined with a certain sparkle your heart couldn't handle. He seemed genuinely concerned for you, like he actually wanted to be with you but you still couldn't trust it. He's of the enemy which makes it hard to believe anything he said to you.

His words seemed legit though, but that could've just been you being gullible and vulnerable to anyone, like most of the time. His face was unreadable and you didn't want to play yourself, just because he was the one responsible for some of your friends injuries. Nearly killing two of your friends was even worse, the thought tightening your chest.

You just couldn't come to terms with what was true and what was not, how could you trust an enemy? Even if he is telling the truth, how could you be with someone you've never acquainted with, let alone always fight when you saw him. You were surprised when his hand took a hold of your chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze before he let his hand retreat back to his side.

"You're too damn stubborn, letting those people run all over you, ____. I wanna protect you from all their bullshit, keep you here... safe with me. Honestly, I'm fucking desperate... desperate for you and if you don't willingly stay, I'll force you to so make your choice."

His face was contorted in anger but you could tell he wasn't upset, no bad energy radiating off of him which relieved your tension just slightly. Maybe he was right, you were gullible, because you were honestly believing everything he was saying to you. Disappointed as you were in yourself just for believing him...

"Those damn idiots don't deserve you." You didn't understand why he was being this way, only seeming to want to kill everything he came across, "You fucking let them push you around, just because you're weaker than them. You shouldn't be scared of those pieces of shit..."

He wasn't lying when he said your supposed to be friends talked shit about you, but you always just thought it was on a joking level. Even if it occured nearly everyday, you still just took their words as jokes. When he called you weak though, it made you gasp out in shame and disappointment, though you do need more training.

Just haven't realized you were as weak as he made you seem caused a wave of embarrassment to flood your veins. A growl that emitted from his chest averted your gaze back to his face, seeing him a little closer to you, on both his knees with his face closer to yours. Your entire body tensed, your cheeks ghosting with crimson shades that changed your skin nearly entirely.

He didn't seem phased by how close he was to you, taking in your flushed face. You could easily forgive people but him, Grimmjow, he wrecked havoc on so many of your friends but... he also seemed genuine, and you didn't know if you were desperate but you were considering it. Now that he said what he said previously, you realize that you do get pushed around more than you thought.

Your eyes went to his face, hearing a slight uneasy breath escape him, his cheeks quickly fading as red faintly appeared. Maybe you weren't desperate, maybe he was meant to take you away for some reason, a reason you couldn't pinpoint. Your heart kept jolting for the male, the enemy and you didn't think you would feel for someone who's done so many bad things to you. Not specifically but to your... friends?

Were they really your friends, you didn't know because everything he said was true. Maybe you were just tolerating them since you really didn't have anyone else, though, you did have other friends that genuinely cared for you. Most of them do push you around, but then there is that one group that loves and cares for you.

That's why you didn't know if you should stay...

"Even if you're not as strong as most, I can protect you... keep you safe."

When his hands went to your body, you were surprised with how calm your mind and body seemed to be, practically inviting him to touch your figure. His hands were going to your thighs, just before slowly ghosting to your hips which brung your bodies close together. Your breath did catch in your throat, though.

He just let his hands rest on your hips though, softly sinking his claws in your flesh which finally made you tense. Still, he was looking into your face with that same expression but he wasn't mad, like it was his normal expression. You were practically being pulled to his chest only a few inches away, fortunately.

"So what, you gonna stay wimme or not woman?”

You bit your lip, letting your mind go into a frenzy of scrambled thoughts, trying its best to find the correct words for you to speak. You wanted to see your friends but you also didn't want to get hurt, considering how he confirmed that he'd force you if you don't. Maybe he'd even hurt your friends back home and you honestly didn't want that. You had your answer, the one you didn't think you'd pick, in the beginning...

"I'll... I'll stay with you... Grimmjow."

As you said his name, your eyes averted to his face that turned calm, a wicked grin spreading across his face before he latched his lips onto yours. It was so surprising that you barely took in a breath but easily melted into his lips that were somewhat rough, though, it drummed your heart. It wasn't a minute after until he let his long tongue slip into your mouth, letting his thicker muscle dance and caress your own that barely had any control.

Your hands instinctively went to the big set of shoulders before you, digging your nails in the flesh as your eyes shut to succumb into the kiss of Grimmjow. He was growling into the kiss, flushing his body with yours to maneuver his hands to your ass, grasping handfuls of it that made you flinch and push at his chest.

Almost instantly, Grimmjow released your soft cheeks to stare into your eyes, like he genuinely was concerned for your timid form.

"What's the problem?"

The way he acted was how he already was so it didn't really bother you, but you didn't want this to escalate far more than it should. It was obvious as to what he was trying to do and you didn't want to act on this so quickly, considering you've only just agreed to staying with him.

You didn't even get the chance to properly introduce each other, yet he was so determined to strip you and himself from your restraints. He was already half naked since he used his clothes to patch you up, earlier, thus leaving only his pants and footwear upon his body.

Your body was getting hotter from his touch, however, which he could physically feel underneath his fingertips. You were grateful that he was giving you a chance to speak to him, as it didn't seem like that's something he'd do in the beginning, just from his attitude you've previously observed.

"I'm just... this is moving too fast, for me. If you want me to stay with you, you can't just rush me to do this with you. We've only just properly met each other..."

A glare was shot at you, a growl submerging from him but his grip on your hips tightened, keeping your body still. He obviously didn't want to harm you, though, and you felt a sincere sense of warmth seek throughout your blood, flowing to your brain that was mushy from his feather touch.

"Your body says otherwise, baby. After all, I've been straining myself the entire time from just being near you. I can't really contain my want for you anymore..."

You couldn't lie, when his hands touched your body, a wave of heat ran through your body, sending shivers through you, pleasurable ones.

"It'll be a low thing to force you to have sex with me, so I'll let you decide. But, your scent is... intoxicating..."

His voice sounded strained, almost painful as he spoke those words to you. It's like he's literally been dying to do something with you, but you were still confused on what you really wanted and what you wanted to do. Besides, you've only partake in these kind of acts a few times, three to be exact, and you never got to finish...

Just because the guys you did it with only did it for their pleasure, as they didn't honestly want to stay with you. It hurts you to think about it, so you can't really make up your mind if you even want this or not. He seemed extremely desperate, though, and if that was the case being the person you are, you wanted to help him.

You couldn't even get a word out, before he snarled out something... extremely vulgar.

"I've been wanting to fuck you full of my cum, for a very long time, ____. Being in a rut without someone to fuck, is so fucking annoying..."

He looked so defeated and fed up with it, you just can't help but wonder how long he's been in a rut. But still, that wasn't as important as your decision for him, if you wanted to do this or not. It was an understatement to say that you weren't somewhat turned on from just his touch, and that kiss added fuel to the flames.

Your mind was telling you how much you wanted this and so was your body, but your heart had a trust barrier that he didn't break through yet, still not believing him all that much. You wanted to because he seemed so sincere, so you had to bite your lip to brace yourself for your answer. Looking at him and placing a hand on his arm, he looked up at you which caused a gasp to escape you, suddenly.

"Well, if it'll help you then... we can do it."

In the blink of an eye, you were pinned underneath the bigger male, his lips latched onto yours as deep groans escaped him. Your eyes were wide, feeling as he grounded his hips with yours and began humping into your soft body, unintentional whimpers and moans escaping you.

His hands were gripping tightly around your wrists, holding you completely still against his warm body. Your eyes instinctively shut, melting into the warmth of his body, feeling your heat spasming around nothing. His lips on yours was taking your breath away, literally.

You didn't even realize you were panting into the air, until you heard a chuckle rumble from the male on top of you. Your eyes opened, seeing a smug smirk on his face as he stared down at your flushed crimson face. You could feel his heartbeat on your heat, the pulsing being violent that twitched tingles into your body.

He loved the way you squirmed underneath his body, you hardly realized his hands weren't on your wrists anymore. His voice grabbed your attention, though, your heart pounding from his words.

"Show me your neck, baby. I wanna mark you as mine."

You saw how sharp his teeth were already, so your body tensed just a bit and he saw this. His hands went to your plush hips, squeezing them in his hands to sooth your nerves. You gulped just before tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck that made Grimmjow lick his lips.

It wasn't even a minute after, until he latched his mouth onto your neck, really close to the lob of your ear and you nearly screamed once his teeth dug in. He was like a vampire, feeling a trickle of blood escaping from the punctured holes that were bubbling from your neck. His hands went back to your wrist to keep you still.

You bit your lip to conceal your shrieks, feeling his tongue working on the blood that was streaming from the mark he made. He seemed to be enjoying your taste quite well, for a minute you'd think he was actually a vampire. Though, his lips created suction around the mark, pulling at the flesh and the wound electrifying more than pain.

It was a pleasurable pain that made you broken-ly moan, your body shuddering and writhing underneath him, and it made Grimmjow smirk as you shifted your heat agaisnt the tent in the front of his pants. That movement electrified his hips back into motion, pressing himself harder agaisnt you as you felt his covered length slip between your folds.

A gasp escaped you, feeling how heavy and twitchy it felt, obviously he wasn't a small man. The thought nerved you, gasping and mewling due to the liquid you could feel streaming down your leg. Your own fluids escaping you and Grimmjow could feel it too.

Once he was sure he imprinted his mark into your neck, he pulled off of you with a popping wet sound, a string of saliva breaking off as he pulled away. You shivered when a breeze of air tickled the freshly made mark, Grimmjow grinning at your current state, flushed and trembling.

It wasn't long until he started tugging at his pants, your eyes widening in panick that he all to well seen. He didn't care, though, continuing to work on his confines that was tightened extremely around his length. He's never been this hard before, feeling like his cock would explode as soon as he grazed you with it.

"Wait, Grimmjow?"

"What now, woman? You wanna stop?"

In all honesty, you didn't, but you haven't done this in a while so you thought a little preparation would be necessary.

"It's just that, well... I haven't done this in a while, so can you prep me first?"

A growl emitted from his throat but he could understand, although he couldn't contain himself any longer. He just wanted to claim your body as his and that alone still brought tension in your veins, slightly shaking at the thought. You were confused when his hands went to your hips, lifting you up to suddenly be on your hands and knees.

He was behind you which made an sound akin to a herd of buffalo stomping in your ear. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, sending a warm chill to electrify throughout your veins. He was pressed up agaisnt you and hard too, you could feel the pulse of your cunt beating agaisnt his length that felt extremely thick.

"Just relax, baby. This'll feel good for the both of us and," He layed his chest agaisnt your back, placing his hands beside yours while his hips were now flushed with yours, "I know you haven't felt that delicious orgasm you've been craving, in years. But, I can bring you to that point.”

Your face heated from his words and it took you a moment to realize he was completely naked, and you could hear the smirk from his words. A shiver ran through you from his hot breath that fanned over the side of your face, his lips grazing your neck and back before he sat himself up. You tried so hard to look forward but you turned your head, trying to see what your body was in for.

You caught a glimpse of it, being so stiff and practically pouring thick substances of pre-cum. You didn't know but it looked like he was so hard that all the blood in the organ turned his length purple, enticing a harsh gulp in your throat. You nearly shrieked as his claws shredded your clothes, now being bare to his eyes, even your underwear tasting the same fate.

Your body tried balling up, since you were completely exposed to the handsome blue haired male, behind you. You thought he would stop here, until you felt his hands roaming your body, quiet praising coming from him.

"Damnit, so fucking sexy... so damn soft..!"

Instantly, your eyes beaded with tears that stung the corners, just because you've always wanted to hear those words from someone. At least something like that. His nails were digging into your skin, slightly letting them drag across to feel you shivering and tingling underneath him. A smack to your ass made you shudder, jolting forward from the sting behind it.

He grinned to himself, loving how your cheeks jiggled with every little movement he made you do. He wasn't one for preparing but he wanted you to feel good too, not only that, but he wanted to make you cum. He wanted your orgasm to be intense and that's what he's intending, as he knows he can give you that intense high you so desperately and obviously wanted.

"I'm more bigger than these average little shits, so you may wanna prepare yourself~"

"Grimm-"

Your words were short once you felt his tip sliding in, feeling quite thicker and bigger than it looked, when you saw it. Your chest fell to the ground, feeling Grimmjow lay his chest agaisnt your back, carefully thrusting his hips to get you to open up to him. You didn't know it, but Grimmjow was struggling to keep his composure, his eyes tightened shut and his teeth gritting the more he slid in.

"Shit..!"

His hands were now on yours, balling up and squeezing your smaller hands in his. You let out a hoarse cry of slight pain, feeling how wide you were being stretched from his thick length. Grimmjow was literally moaning agaisnt your neck, trying his best to latch onto you but failing as your walls struggled to let him in.

You were far tighter than he'd think you'd be but it was a bonus, tensing up his body as he tried to push himself into you. He couldn't though, your walls squeezing extremely tight around only the tip and some inches, his right hand going to your hip to pull you back on him. He didn't expect this extreme tightness, his eyes nearly tearing up from how good this felt.

"____! You needa... you gotta relax, damn..!"

You were trying your best to relax, pressing your arms on the ground and laying your head on top of both of them. That was kind of a mistake, now you could see him entering your body, being way bigger than he seemed to be a moment ago. This sight only made you tighten around him, vulgar moans escaping the both of you.

He rested his chin on the nape of your neck, placing both hands firmly on your hips before he naturally began prying your insides open. Instant near screams escaped you, and rumbling moans secreted pass his gritted teeth. You didn't know if it was from pain or pleasure, your noises only seeming to encourage the male to sink more wildly into you.

His pace was slow, but the thickness of his length made it all the more pleasurable feeling those pulsing veins dragging agaisnt your velvet walls. You tried suppressing your moans but his hips began snapping harshly into yours, now that he was fully inside of you, feeling how his balls lightly tapped your already drooling clit.

You wanted to scream, when his arms wrapped around your waist, quickly guiding his big fingers to your sweet neglected pussy, rubbing harsh circles into it. The obscene sound of his hips slamming agaisnt yours made your walls clench around his cock, almost trapping him inside of your overly wet insides. You couldn't believe the warmth trailing down your cheeks, hearing the deep growls and groans of the male fucking into you.

His arms were extremely tight around your body, making sure he pulled you back to meet his thrusts, feeling the full force of his cock that collided with your spongy sensitive spot. You couldn't help the lewd screams escaping you, feeling that bubbling heat boiling in your abdomen, ready to burst as he seemed to repeatedly began bashing into that spot.

Even with his cock hitting every pleasurable spot inside your soft walls, he still managed to find a spot that spilled tears from your eyelids, feeling his warm breath fanning the side of your face. He was moaning directly into your ear, his chest rubbing agaisnt your back which both were sweaty from the intense session.

Grimmjow, however, took note of your tightened insides, angling his hips to fuck you in an upward motion, making sure his cock kissed that spot each time. He didn't know he would but when he heard you let out a howling moan, you could feel your cervix give way to him, Grimmjow gritting his teeth as it clamped down on the head of his cock.

His blue locks were sticking to his forehead, layed out from this situation, though he didn't even know someone could give him this much pleasure. He could feel fluids escaping his slit, massive amount of pre-cum accidentally slipping out and into you which felt so good to him. You didn't notice it but he was still making you feel good, too good in fact as you felt that hot coil in your stomach wind way too tight.

It didn't want to break which annoyed you, causing you to move your hips back against his, meeting his thrusts that nearly broke you. He could feel how much tighter you were now, gradually picking up pace and force that knocked the wind out of your lungs. You didn't even realize his fingers weren't on your clit anymore, but you felt the pressure of his body removed from yours.

His voice snapped you back into reality, listening to his broken moans as he tried to speak through the pleasure and the loud clapping sound made between the both of you.

"Cum for me..! Cum for me, ____! Fucking cover me with your sweet juices..!"

His hands were on your hips, harshly pulling you back on his cock before your body took note of what was happening, almost instantly feeling that high you desperately wanted arising. His eyes were trained on where he was entering your soft body, loving how he could see your juices sloshing out and around his cock, dripping onto the ground beneath you.

"Scream out my name, woman! Let these fuckers know I'm claiming this pussy... ngh!"

Not even a second after, you screamed exactly what he demanded you say, feeling that delicious orgasm electrify your nerves, frying your brain nearly from how intense this was.

"GRIMMJOW!"

He smiled devilishly at this but that smile instantly went away from how much tighter you became, feeling his own orgasm approaching and quickly. He could tell you couldn't really take this, seeing as your body desperately tried retreating from his massive cock and thrusting hips. That made him wrap his arms around your body again, holding you tightly to his warm chest that rubbed agaisnt your back.

You wanted to scream feeling him hitting even deeper inside you, your pussy fluttering and quivering around his thick length. From the uneven breaths that came from Grimmjow, you could tell that he was extremely close. He was slowly dragging his cock in and out of you, in return, you could feel the twitching and throbbing of his cock.

"Fuuuck..! I'm gonna fucking cum in you, baby..! I want you to take it all for me, don't spill a drop..!"

"I can't... can't take it..! Anymore, Grimmjow..!"

Another knot formed in your abdomen from his methodical thrusts, slowly yet deeply pushing into you, clearly lost to his own pleasure. You felt a cool substance on your shoulder, Grimmjow drooling as he nearly became delirious from the orgasm that broke over him. The force behind his orgasm hit a bundle of nerves inside of you, causing your overly stimulated pussy to gush all over him again.

This orgasm was more intense than the first one and he could honestly say that his was more intense than any past fling he's ever had. You're not a fling, however, Grimmjow wanting to keep you more than anything. As his seed seeped throughout your body, he continued to slowly piston his hips in a circular motion that stirred your insides. You could only twitch, your body spasming with every movement.

You barely registered his tongue slowly stroking your neck, placing kisses agaisnt it before he plunged himself deeply inside you, staying stationary to make sure all of his fluids got into your body. Both yours and his juices were streaming down your leg, leaving you relaxed but concerned for one thing. You couldn't say it though, soft sobs escaping you that shot a gasp from Grimmjow before he stopped licking your neck.

Sitting up but still buried to the hilt inside of you, the little movement causing you to moan softly, feeling him pushing his cock inside of you to stay there. A growl came from him, before he once again placed his hands on the sides of your head and his abdomen agaisnt your ass.

"What's wrong?"

"This is it..?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're gonna leave me, after this... it's okay, I'm used to it..."

He could hear the pain in your voice, a snarl escaping him and a gasp of shock slipping past your lips, as he wrapped his arms back around your body to hold you close to him. You could feel the rapid beating of his heart agaisnt your back, listening to his words that seemed... real, for the first time.

"Fuck that, I'm staying with you and you're staying with me. You're mine, you're not going anywhere I've already told you this. Whatever those assholes did to you doesn't matter, you're only gonna be with me, no matter what."

Your heart jolted, listening to him. This was right, this choice was right there's no doubt in your mind, anymore. He seems to genuinely care for you, feeling his lips kiss your neck again before he slowly pulled himself from your abused core. You felt a pleasurable chill run through your body, suddenly being on your back with your legs hitched up around his hips.

He was looking down at you, smirking as he took in your confused expression. Entrap-ping your body with his hands, Grimmjow inched his face closer to yours as he enclosed on your lips. Both your eyes closed in a sweet and gentle kiss, him pulling away to look into your eyes. You could honestly say that you believe him, and your heart is expanding for him far faster than you'd thought.

"We're not done yet, baby. I want you to look in my eyes, while I pound into this tight pussy of yours. You may wanna save your voice, we'll be here for a while."

You tried denying him since your body was overly sensitive, but a harsh thrust of his hips cut you off, already feeling his cock bashing into your cervix. Your eyes sealed shut, but his was staring down at your lovely face, bottling up the cute expressions you made. He knew you didn't know but he honestly loved you, and he was determined to keep you safe.

He wouldn't let those 'friends' of yours come in tact with you, ever again, though he wasn't going to keep you locked away. He had a plan for everything, though, he wouldn't allow anyone to be near you as they used to be. He doesn't trust anyone with you, wanting to keep you by him forever.

Truth be told, he'd possibly quit all of his evilness just to keep you safe. Yes, you were mismatched, but you were meant to be.

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jeysbvck · 4 months

Text

it always leads to you (in my hometown)

oh hi, im back after almost a year of not posting fics, and of course it's my main man who pulls me back in! this is my first jey uso fic, so pls comment & reblog & let me know what you think!! i tried to make it angsty, to fit the song more, but i guess that's not the direction my brain wanted to go!!

jey uso x afab!reader

smut, 18+, minors dni!!

word count: 2,420

some people i thought might like this (if you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!): @southerngirl41 @bebesobrielo @harmshake @afterdarkprincess @rollinsland @wrestlezaynia @crxssjae

summary: when you're in town for the holidays, it always ends up with you in jey usos bed for the weekend. this time, it isn't enough, and jey shows you why you can't leave him behind.

You stared out the window, feeling content as you watched the snow fall outside, frost gathering on the glass. You and Jey had spent all weekend in bed, sleeping half the day away and sharing body heat in more ways than one; which is how you spent all the fleeting weekends together. You had so much to do before you left in two days, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave the warm bed, especially when Jey was sleeping beside you, looking like a literal angel.

This had been happening for the last four years and you remembered it all too well; the bewildered, haunted look when Jey locked eyes with you for the first time in years, like he'd seen a ghost. You remembered the ice that ran through every vein in your body when he walked past you without acknowledging you, making you consider whether you were a ghost. You remember lying in your childhood bedroom, old photographs of you and Jey still on your walls, staring down at you, judging you. You knew you'd hurt him when you left, he didn't think your reasons were good enough; but it never crossed your mind that he'd pretend you were a stranger. But as you stared at the posters and photographs on your walls, you realised that you were a stranger now, you didn't recognise the girl in the photographs anymore.

A few days later, you bumped into Jey again, this time you were both alone, walking past the school you used to share, and things seemed different. He opened a dialogue, asked you how you'd been, asked about your life, and before you knew it, you'd been standing in the cold for half an hour. Jey offered you a ride, and you weren't ready for this to end; it felt familiar, but also new. So you accepted and you drove around the small town, commenting on how things hadn't changed. Four hours later, you were in his bed, doing things you had only dreamed about.

You thought it would be a one-off, that maybe the universe was giving you a better goodbye than the first time, a better reunion than the one in the bar. But the next holiday you were in town, he text you, and you ended up in his bed again. Then Jey started surprising you at the airport -sometimes you hadn't even told him what time your flight was- and although he dropped you off at your parents house, it wasn't long before you were spending most of the time with Jey. It was essentially a weekend-long holiday hook up, a way to make you feel less lonely during the holidays and a way to have what could've been -what should've been- if you had just stayed.

Jey stirred in his slumber, retracting his arm that was stretched over you, taking away the warmth and leaving a chill behind, as you pulled the quilt up further, you couldn't help but think of it as a metaphor for how you would feel in a couple of days when you left. You turned your back on the beautiful view outside the window to the -in your totally, unbiased opinion- the more beautiful view next to you. Even after all the years of knowing Jey, he still took your breath away, he still set your heart ablaze. Every time you were here, you took every opportunity to mentally record every detail of him to take back with you. Every new grey hair, every tattoo, every laughter line, every perfect imperfections, you took it all in. You basked in the warmth, the comfort, the happiness that you felt in this bed, knowing it would all be over in a flash.

"Mornin' babe," Jey said, with a sleepy smile, "you're watchin' me sleep, forgot you were a creep."

You hummed in response as you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his pillow-like lips. "And I forgot you snore." You teased, and Jey scoffed, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss.

"Such a liar." He mumbled against your lips and you smiled, pulling away and finding your place on his chest. Your fingertips traced the lines of his intricate tattoo on his chest, as his stroked your back, soothingly.

The time you spent with Jey, in this bed, the room, the house; felt like a different world. Like reality as you know it didn't exist here, it was just you and Jey, and nothing else mattered. You hated leaving, you hated getting on the plane, going back to your life like you hadn't just left the warmest place you'd ever known.

"So..." Jey started, and you knew what was coming. The dreaded question that he asked every time. "How long we got? Until you-"

You cut him off, not wanting the words to be said, as if it somehow wouldn't happen if Jey didn't speak it into the universe. "I know what you mean, Jey." You sighed. "Can't we just stay in this bubble for a little longer?"

"How much longer? Like, you wanna talk later, over dinner? Or how about the mornin' of your flight so we barely get to say goodbye?" He snapped, and you scoffed at the outburst. "Ay, you're the one who-"

"Okay," you cut him off before he finished the sentence, sitting up and throwing your legs over the edge of the bed, grabbing the robe that had been thrown on the floor the night before as you stood up and pulled it over your body. "You really wanna spend the time arguing?"

"No! I jus'-" Jey groaned and turned on his side, his elbow resting on the mattress. "Okay listen, I know our whole thing; no stayin', no waitin', but-"

"No Jey, this works!" You lied. You knew you were trying to convince him more than yourself, because you knew it wasn't working. If it did, leaving him wouldn't break your heart, you wouldn't spend the year counting down to the next holiday. Nobody in your life knew you like Jey. They didn't know which smiles you were faking, or which laughs were genuine. They didn't even know your coffee order, or your favourite film.

"This works for you? This is enough for you?" Jey asked. "Because it isn't for me."

You bit your lips, you'd expected this every time, you knew it would happen eventually. Jey was always going to find someone who could give him more than you could offer.

"What are you saying?" You asked. "You don't-you wanna end this?"

Jey got his knees and shuffled towards you, leaning up and cupping your face with his hands, his eyes level with yours. "I don't wanna end this." He said. "I wanna be with you."

"Jey," you whispered, hoping he could see in your eyes how much love you have for him. "I can't- We can't-"

"Ay, just listen." Jey said. "What if I came wit' you?"

You stared at him, speechless, your face still in his hands. "That's not funny."

"It ain't supposed to be funny."

"Stop it. You can't just say stuff like this, not in here, not like this when we're all caught up in the bubble!" You said, throwing your hands around. "You have your family here, a life here, you're just gonna leave it all behind?!"

"Didn't stop you." Jey retorted, and you rolled your eyes.

"That was different! I didn't pack up my life to follow someone across the country!" He smirked at you, making you roll your eyes a second time.

"Ay, you think highly of yourself, don't ya?" He joked, but you groaned and pulled his hands away from your face, putting your own over your face. "What if I ain't doin' it for you? What if I'm doin' it for me?" He asked. He pulled your hands from your face and held them. "I know you tell me not to, but I wait, babe. I wait for you to call, to text, I ask your parents when you're comin', so I can wait at the airport for you. I don't wanna wait anymore, I wanna be wit' you, for real, and you can't stay."

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to let yourself smile, and you turned your back on him, sitting back down on the bed. He was saying all the right things, wearing your favourite smile, and it was hard to be logical right now. This was never an option, because what if he ended up resenting you? Having Jey sporadically in your life through the year was better than the alternative.

Jey ran his hands up and down your arms, planting little kisses on your shoulder and neck. "Jus' think about it, babe." He whispered in your ear as he kissed your neck. "We can have more than jus' weekends." His hands slid over your skin, grazing your breasts as he followed a path down to your stomach, sending shivers through your whole body. "We can do this-" His hand slipped into your underwear, teasing you. "-whenever we want."

You tilted your head back, leaning it against his shoulder as he nibbled your neck, and you hummed, bucking your hips in an attempt to get his fingers exactly where you needed them. He clicked his tongue before he dug his teeth into your neck, a moan escaping your mouth as his fingers teased your entrance.

His hard cock was pressed against your back, and as he played and teased you, you reached around and grabbed his cock. He rutted against your hand, moaning into your neck as you stroked the long length, the action making him push two fingers inside you. They moved inside you, matching the pace of your hand on his cock; when you slowed down, he did, and when you quickened the pace, he did too.

Jey upped the ante, his thumb flicking over your clit, making your hips buck, your grip on his cock tightening, making it twitch. Jey groaned into your shoulder, and when you ran your thumb over his tip, he pulled away from your hand. "Nah, you're gonna make me cum." He mumbled into your shoulder. He kissed your skin again, before pulling his fingers out of your cunt, making you whimper pathetically. You watched as he slipped off the bed and pushed you backwards on the bed before getting on his knees. "Gotta remind you what you'll be missin' if you leave without me." He smirked, burying his head in between your legs.

You moaned loudly as he flattened his tongue against your cunt, slowly licking every part of you. He quickened the pace, and just as you arched your hips, he pinned them against the bed, while pushing two fingers inside you, his tongue flicking and sucking your clit. This was euphoric, you writhed underneath him as he drove you wild. Jey knew exactly what he was doing and his plan was working, you knew that he could ask you for anything right now -doing that thing with his tongue- you'd say yes to anything and everything.

"So wet for me." He muttered against you, nibbling the inside of your thigh as he fucked you with his fingers. All you could do was gasp and moan as he didn't give you a moment to breathe, sucking your clit and fucking you with his tongue. You tried to hold out, to delay your orgasm, but it wasn't long before you let yourself go, bundling the sheets in your hands as your thighs gripped his head.

Jey pulled back and crawled up your body, his thick, hard cock grazing your cunt, making your body twitch. He grinned down at you, his beard glistening with your juices, his dark eyes full of lust and you pulled him down by the chain around his neck for a kiss, your tongues dancing with each other as you ran your hands down his toned back. He rubbed his cock against your cunt, and you bucked your hips against him. "Fuck me, Jey." You managed to gasp, and he grinned at you, his eyes darkening more. He grabbed your wrists with one hand and pinned them above your head, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he pushed his cock inside you, moaning with you as your cunt tightened around him.

Your moans were lost in Jeys mouth as your bodies rocked together, your kisses getting rougher and more passionate. His free hand playing with your breasts, switching between them, refusing to let your hands free. "Such a good girl, takin' my cock like this." He grunted and you threw your head back as he attacked your neck once again. Your orgasm was bubbling up inside you, your legs beginning to shake as he fucked you harder and deeper, his own orgasm imminent. He brought his lips back to yours, the kiss slower, but not less passionate, and when he let go of your hands to grip your hips, you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

"Shit, baby, I'm so close." He groaned, burying his head into the crook of your neck, his thrusts getting harder. You rolled your hips making his cock twitch inside you, and in all the bliss and passion as your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, three words slipped out of your mouth.

"Come with me." You whispered, nibbling his earlobe. "So close." He repeated, and you grabbed his head, making him look at you.

"No Jey, come with me." You said, and he looked in your eyes, he flashed you that beautiful smile -one that could light up a starless night sky. You nodded, and he kissed you, just as his own orgasm hit, and he thrusted into you a few more times, his moans being caught by your mouth.

He dropped onto you; his body like a welcome weighted blanket, and you wrapped your arms around him as he lay on your chest. "Did ya mean it?" He asked quietly. You ran your fingers through his hair, and thought about what you said. You hadn't meant to say it, especially in that moment, it had just slipped out. You also hadn't meant to confirm it was in fact, what you meant. But you meant it with your whole heart, and you knew as soon as Jey voiced it as an option, you knew you couldn't leave him behind again.

"I mean it, Jey. I've never meant anything more."

#jey uso #jey uso fic #jey uso x reader #jey uso x you #the bloodline #the usos #smut #smut writing #my writing*

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 1 year

Text

Dress Code | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! this is a repost because some bitch ass reported my original posting of this fic 🙄

warnings: asshole exes, anxiety, some alcohol

You didn’t hear Bucky call out for you. He tried once, twice, to get your attention, but failed. Only when appeared behind you in the bathroom mirror did you notice his presence. You jumped, silently cursing the winter soldier training that made him so stealthy. And while you always loved to spend time with him, you hadn’t intended to show him your outfit. You didn’t even know why you tried it on. It sat at the back of your closet for almost a year and a half, ignored.

But Bucky’s unannounced presence put you in a difficult position. It was too late- he’d seen the outfit never meant for his view.

“Oh, wow…” his voice pulled you back to reality. A long moment passed as he raked his gaze slowly over your form in the mirror. “You look incredible.” His mouth nearly watered at the sight of you in such an out of character ensemble. Black, tight, revealing. It gave away just enough without revealing everything, teasing Bucky with what remained concealed.

You gave him a sheepish smile in the mirror, not ready to face him for real. “Oh, um, thanks, babe… you like it?”

He gave a nod so vehement that you feared he’d get whiplash. “We might not even make it to the party…” He shot you a devilish wink that made your chest tighten. “I’ll tell Nat you looked too delicious for me to share you- I’m sure she’ll understand.”

A shy laugh made its way out of your mouth as you picked at your cuticles. You’d done your nails just for tonight, but suddenly had the urge to peel the polish right off. “Um, I actually might change, though- I’m not sure. But I swear I’ll be ready soon.”

Bucky placed his hands on your hips and gently turned you toward him, placing a light kiss to your glossed lips. “No rush, doll. I just came in here to ask- what kind of wine does Nat drink? Sam wants to get her a bottle, but he wasn’t sure what she likes.” His fingers trailed up and down your sides as a mischievous smile pricked at the corners of his mouth. “I just got distracted by the absolute goddess standing in front of me…”

A rush of warmth flooded your cheeks. “She um, she likes reds. Cab is her favorite, but she’ll drink merlot.”

He granted you another chaste kiss. Bucky had experienced a lot of hardship in his life, endured more torment than anyone could imagine. But keeping his hunger for you under control proved to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. And when he pulled away from your lips, he only managed to drag his eyes away from you long enough to reply to Sam’s text.

As Bucky typed, you faced the mirror once again. You had to admit- you did look amazing. But you still feared leaving the apartment in such an outfit. Maybe you’d keep it relegated to the bedroom, allowing Bucky- and only Bucky - to see it.

“Are you sure…” you said, your voice timid. “Is it okay if I wear this?”

Bucky gave you a laugh and rested his hands on your hips. “Well, I’m not the best person to ask for fashion advice, cause I mostly wear black on black. On black,” he gestured to his monochromatic outfit. “But you look amazing. So, I say go for it, doll.”

Bucky’s praise warmed your cheeks once again, but you remained conflicted. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! You know how causal Nat is- the last place you’d find a dress code is at one of her parties.” He pressed his chest to your back and dropped a few kisses along your neck. “In fact, she might even try to steal you away from me.”

You gave Bucky a roll of your eyes and contemplated your options. Sure, you could slip into a pair of jeans and a cute top like always, but something in you wanted to pull out a new look. Something fun. And this dress was the perfect choice. Bucky clearly though you looked like a knockout, and you loved the way the fabric hugged your body. No event was more perfect for this dress than one of Nat’s parties- it was meant to be.

“Well, in that case, I’m ready to go.” You took Bucky by the hand and led him out of the bathroom, more confident than ever. But the seed of doubt you’d planted earlier began blossoming into full on worry. And before you even made it out the bedroom door, you found yourself doubling back.

“Oh, actually- I’m gonna grab a jacket real quick.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “are you sure? It’s pretty warm tonight, sweets, and this is an outdoor shindig.”

You gave an overly casual shrug, “yeah. Just in case- never know when you’ll need it.”

The night went off without a hitch. You spent hours sipping on elderflower & pear seltzers and laughing with your closest friends. Compliment after compliment flew your way- everyone loved your look. Red wine flowed and music pounded. And like a group of schoolchildren, the party quickly separated into a group of guys and a group of women. You spent your evening with Nat, Maria, Wanda, and the rest of the girls while Sam, Clint, Scott and a few other guys stood near the bar.

But Bucky blurred the line. He couldn’t keep his hands off you, couldn’t resist you in the slightest. Every twenty minutes or so, he felt compelled to pay you a visit. He was drawn to you with no hope of resisting- not that he ever wanted to.

Observing you from afar just wasn’t good enough. He needed to be up close and personal; close enough to smell your perfume, to taste the wine on your lips. He never wanted to impede on your time with Nat and the other girls, but you were just too mesmerizing. It almost seemed as though he were a sailor, and you, his siren. And if you led him to his death with your tantalizing, magnetic song, he wouldn’t mind.

And though you appeared to have a great time, Bucky clocked a slight tension. A stiffness in your shoulders. A rigidity in your jaw. It wasn’t constant. But it was there. And Bucky wondered what had you so uncomfortable. He kept an eye out for outsiders and made sure your drinks were safe- nothing felt out of the ordinary.

And as he escorted you to his car after the night’s festivities came to an end, you didn’t bring it up. You didn’t mention a creepy stranger or an off-color comment from Sharon. Only positives spilled from your wine-stained lips.

When you finally arrived home, Bucky opened the door to the apartment and guided you inside. The alcohol was on top of you, and he didn’t fully trust your teetering steps. The last thing he wanted was for you to twist your ankle.

“I’m ready to not be walking on knives…” you said- or, slurred. You rocked side to side, the effects of the alcohol pushing you off balance as you tried to escape your heels.

“Here, let me, baby …” Bucky steadied your body against a wall before kneeling in front of you.

He carefully unbuckled one heel at a time, and slipped your foot out of the tight shoe. “This is like a reverse-Cinderella situation, isn’t it?” He laughed, staring up at your slack-jawed smile, “only I wouldn’t have to try your shoe on every woman in town.” He stood and swiped a bit of smeared lipstick from your skin- before smearing a bit more with his own lips. “I mean, who could forget a face like this?”

A contented sigh left your chest as you melted against him, “I’m really glad we went tonight. I like celebrating Nat.”

Bucky trailed kisses around your hairline and across your cheek. “Yeah? Good. I was afraid…” he almost stopped himself. You were drunk. Sleepy. Maybe this wasn’t the right time. But if he waited till tomorrow, he knew there was a chance you’d come up with an excuse by then. “I thought maybe you weren’t having a good time.”

You cocked your head to the side, your glassy eyes narrowing just a touch. “Huh? Why?”

Bucky shrugged. “Well, you seemed a little tense, doll. All night. I kind of thought maybe you were upset or something. It seemed like…” He let out a sigh. Maybe he was projecting. He always assumed he’d done something wrong. Or that he hadn’t done something you wanted him to. But he needed to know. All he ever wanted was to be better- the best- for you. He wanted constructive criticism and performance reviews. He needed to be as perfect for you as you were for him. And so, he pressed on, “Every time I walked over, you kinda stiffened up.”

A frown pulled your features downward. Your hands shot up to Bucky’s cheeks and pulled his face toward yours. “Oh, Buck, oh no- I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he laughed. “I just wanted to double check.”

“I only thought you might do something- or, actually…” You paused for a moment, formulating your drunk, murky thoughts. “It really has nothing to do with you.”

Bucky wasn’t following. He was certain that this was a mistake, that he should’ve waited till morning to bring it up. But it was too late now.

“I just kinda got used to it and so I expected it to happen. But you didn’t do it!” You gave his cheeks a gentle squish. “So it’s all good.” With that, your lips swept against his in a soft kiss, smearing his skin with your lipstick.

Bucky almost didn’t want to ask. But he needed to know. “I didn’t do what, baby?”

“You know,” you shrugged, “call me slut.”

Bucky’s ears started ringing. There was no way her heard you right- was there? Maybe he was drunk- no, he couldn’t get drunk. Maybe he imagined it? “Wait, what? Why would I call you a…” he didn’t want to say it. “Why would I do that?”

“Because of my outfit!” You said it so casually, so matter of fact. Almost as though it were normal. “It’s pretty tight. And revealing. And my titties are almost, like, all the way out.” You gave your chest a shake. “So I thought you’d get mad at me. But you didn’t!” You pressed another long kiss to his lips, “thanks for not yelling.” A soft, tired smile punctuated your sentence. But Bucky knew this was a red flag.

He knew instantly this was a holdover from your ex. The one who belittled you, criticized you, acted as though you belonged to him. He made you feel like you were his property, like he was in control of your entire life. What you wore, what you ate, what you watched- he decided.

He was insecure. He knew how beautiful you were, how out of his league. And so, he opted to tear you down. To blame you for his own self-doubt. To chastise and berate you for showing what he deemed ‘too much’ skin or wearing ‘too much’ make up. He always asked who you were dressing up for, who you were trying to impress. If not him, who else was there? What other reason did you have to get dolled up?

He even went through your closet once while you were away, ridding your wardrobe of anything he deemed ‘inappropriate’. He threw it all out and called you a slut, a whore- simply for owning such clothing.

He required you get his permission to wear anything short or low cut. He assumed you wanted to sleep with- or already slept with- any man you talked to. Coworkers, friends, the barista at your coffee place. He saw everything you did in public as flirtatious and risqué. He said he couldn’t trust you. That your friends were a bad influence. He did everything he could to pull your life apart until only he remained.

“Okay, we’re gonna talk about this more when you’re sober,” Bucky said, “But I’m never going to yell at you- especially not for something as inconsequential as an outftit.”

“You can yell at me,” you sighed. It was the sound of someone dejected, resigned- someone forced into submission. “Sometimes I don’t learn my lesson, and so I need to be yelled at. Ya know?” Your sad smile made another appearance.

Bucky shook his head. He was disgusted with your ex. With men in general, really. “No, that’s just something he told you, doll. You don’t need to be yelled at. I’m your boyfriend- not your parent, not your boss. I’m not going to yell at you- ever.”

You perked up suddenly. “Really? I like that, I like not being yelled at.”

Bucky nodded and left a kiss against your forehead. “You’re a fully grown adult; you’re allowed to wear whatever you want- you know that, right? You’re-” He took a pause and the quickly rephrased, “This is not me giving you permission. You don’t need my permission. I’m just saying, it’s your body. They’re your clothes. You should wear what makes you happy, not what you think I’ll ‘allow’”.

You stared up at him, struggling to make sense of such a foreign concept. “Are you sure? Cause… what if, what if I wanna wear something like, really slutty?”

Bucky’s head fell back in a laugh, “That’s not something I’ll ever I be opposed to.”

“But what if-”

“Baby, no ‘what ifs’. No ‘buts’. You should wear whatever you want, whether it’s a parka and snow pants or fishnets and those... those-” he made groping motions at his chest and came up empty, “what are they called? The sticky boob things?”

“Chicken cutlets!” you laughed.

“Yeah! Chicken cutlets!” He couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous name. “You don’t belong to anyone but yourself. Your body is yours. And if you want to wear nothing but chicken cutlets or those little pasty things, that’s your choice.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, weighing the truth of his words. The way you’d been treated was dehumanizing. Demoralizing. Asking permission for something as simple as clothing always made you feel stupid. Small. Ashamed. And though hearing Bucky say these things eased the tension in your shoulders, the apprehension in your chest remained.

“I just don’t wanna…” It felt stupid saying what you feared. You felt like a child. “I just don’t wanna get in trouble.” The admission came with a heavy sigh and few unexpected tears. You lived on a leash for so long it made freedom sound scary.

Bucky pulled you close and showed you the love you needed. He let you breathe. Unlearning the things your ex ingrained in you would take time, this Bucky knew. But he was more than happy to help you on the journey.

“You’re not gonna get in trouble. You can’t get in trouble- not with me.” He pulled your face from his chest and rested his palms against your cheeks, “I’m not in charge of you.”

Meeting his eyeline was hard; shame still had its hooks in you. “But what if I wear something really revealing and other guys hit on me?”

Bucky tucked a finger under your chin and lifted your head ever so slightly. When your eyes finally met his, you found an almost amused smile on his face. “Doll, I know how to fight,” he said with a wink. “It’s my job. Wear whatever you want. And if someone tries to make you uncomfortable, they’ll have me to answer to. Okay?”

This time, your smile was genuine. “Okay,” you laughed, “thanks, Buck. You the best.” You melted against his body with a sigh and barely noticed that he’d swept you up into his arms. No one ever cared for you the way he did. When you’d first met, part of you thought it was a front. Maybe he was trying to right the wrongs of his past by overcorrecting.

But it was real- all of it. His adoration for you, his devotion to you; everything he said was genuine. And as he carried you to bed and helped you get into some pajamas, you knew you’d never have to walk on eggshells with him. He’d never make you ask for permission or beg for forgiveness. He only wanted you to be happy. And if you wanted to wear a different, outrageous, barely-there outfit every day of the week, he’d happily fight off any man who dared comment.

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hotgirlgraps · 9 months

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crossed hearts

synopsis: two strangers make a drunken promise in the heat of the moment

A/N: sorry for taking a million years to post a fic. i know y’all have been asking and i’ve been putting it off for weeks soooo i took a few whole business days to conjure this up for y’all and i hope you loveee it!! enjoy babes!!

18+ only

You were quite content as you sat on the edge of the pool, legs submerged beneath the cool water and your face towards the sun, soaking up the last bit of the end of summer heat.

You had your airpods in to drown out the loud chatter and occasional children screaming when their parents tossed them in the deep end. You couldn’t help but laugh when a little boy, who had been thrown in the pool at least ten times, kept running back over to where his parents were sitting just to beg his dad to throw him in again.

You were about to watch him get launched from the diving board for the umpteenth time, but that’s when something else just so happened to catch your attention.

You felt something hit your back and turned around to find a foam football that a group of guys had been tossing around a little ways away.

You grabbed the football before it rolled off the edge of the pool and looked up at the man who came jogging after it.

“Shit, sorry about that. My friend’s got bad aim.” He chuckled as he extended his hands. You tossed the ball back to him and glanced over at the other three guys exchanging not so discreet laughs as they watched on.

You pulled one airpod out of your ear and looked back up at him, offering a simple smile as you said, “It’s alright, just tell him he might not need to pursue a football career anytime soon.”

He dropped his head and laughed, and you took immediate notice of the dimples that decorated his cheeks when his smile widens. His eyes were hidden by a pair of shades but if you could see them, you’d imagine he’d have a couple crinkles by them when he laughs that hard.

He glanced over his shoulder and the boys who were waiting for him. Their laughter had died down and now they were standing around with confused looks on their faces, probably wondering why that man hadn’t returned yet.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing he’s a pro wrestler then.” He shrugs his shoulder as he looks back down at you, keeping that dimple fledged smile on his face. “We all are, actually.”

“Pro wrestler? That sounds like an exciting career.” You say as you take a sip from your margarita that was starting to go down a little too smooth. “I’d love to make a living beating people’s ass.”

He chuckled again, tossing the football between his hands as he started stepping side to side.

“I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. That’s why we’re here right now. Got a show tonight, and uh, yeah.” He says as he adverts his eyes down to your margarita you placed next to you.

You glanced back over at the group of guys now with all their arms crossed over their chests, talking amongst themselves as they impatiently waited their friend to get back.

“Well I think your friends are getting tired of waiting.” you point over to the guys, and he looks back over his shoulder at them. “So don’t let me keep you distracted.” you joked, watching as another dimple fledged smile formed on his face.

“Alright, well, i’ll see you, uh-?”

“Y/N. You?”

“Tyler” he grins as he takes a few steps back before he turns around and jogs back over to the other guys.

You turned back around and put the airpod back in your ear as you took the last few sips from your glass, only then realizing that it was empty, and obviously you needed to head over to the swim-up bar for another one.

You lowered yourself off the edge, feeling the coolness of the water against your heated skin, refreshingly so. You kept your glass above the surface as you made your way towards the bar, unknowingly being watched by that same boy until his friends called him out on it.

“Dude, you talked to her for like, five minutes.” Darius says as he catches the football Tyler tossed to his chest. “Should’ve just asked for her number instead of staring at her like a creep.”

“I’m not even looking at her.” Tyler lies as he barely catches the ball when his friend passes it back. “I was looking at the water. It’s hot, i’m bout to jump in.”

Action and Anthony exchanged looks before they started passing the ball between each other, excluding Tyler as he pulled his shirt and sunglasses off and tossed them down on the chair.

Darius looked back over, finding you just as you took your place with a full glass you started sipping on. You could practically feel eyes burning into you, but you did your best not to acknowledge that. It was making you feel a little nervous, but thankfully the liquor in your frosty drink was strong enough to mask that.

A couple seconds passed by before you heard an enormous splash and you got covered in the drops of water from the impact.

You watched to see who was resurfacing, and couldn’t say you were surprised to see that it was Tyler.

“Hey again.” you called out to him.

“Hey.” he grinned, finding his footing when he got to the shallow side and standing up, exposing Sculpted, sharp abs and a couple more tattoos.

You had to keep yourself from letting your eyes wander, but it was hard to do. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head slightly until he was satisfied with how the slick locks landed against his forehead. He then made his way towards you and lifted himself up to sit on the edge, leaving a little distance between you.

“Done throwing the ball?” you asked, feeling the need to take another sip from your glass as the nerves started to become a little too unavoidable.

You couldn’t help it, he was strikingly handsome and now that he didn’t have those shades covering his eyes, you got to see the rich, deep shade of them and, well, brown eyes have always been a weakness for you.

“I am.” he says as he sways one leg beneath the water. “It got hot, needed to cool down.”

“Yeah. That’s why I have this.” You tipped your glass before you took another sip, watching as an eased smirk slipped across his lips as he looked back at you.

“I might get something when I get back tonight. Probably not a margarita, but something with some alcohol in it.” he says before he looks down at the water.

“When are you getting back?” you asked, unsure why you did in the first place. It felt weird right after you said it but before you could cringe about it, he was already answering.

“Probably around midnight.” he says, “Maybe a little later, I never really know. Kind of wanted to go somewhere and see what this city is all about before I have to leave again.”

“Well what would you wanna do? I know this place pretty well. I can tell you if something’s worth it or not, so you don’t waste the little time you have.”

“I don’t know, maybe a club or something? But, then again, I might just come back here and chill for the night. I’m probably gonna be tired anyway.” He shrugs as he keeps his eyes from roaming over to you, out of sheer nervousness he was starting to feel simply because your attention was solely on him, and for some reason, it flustered him.

“Well if you do decide to go out, there’s a couple places not far from here that-“

“Yo, Tyler, we gotta head out man!” You were cut off by one of the guys calling out to him from a little ways away, and when you glanced over your shoulder, you saw the three of them approaching, all with weird smirks on their faces.

One of the guys stepped forward, flashing a bright smile down at you. “Hey, sorry about hitting you with the football earlier. And for the record, I’m not planning on joining the NFL anytime soon.”

You looked over at Tyler who was trying to keep the smirk off of his lips, but failing miserably. Then you looked back up at the guy, a little at a loss for words because you didn’t actually expect Tyler to tell him you said that.

“But for real, sorry about that.” He says with a wide grin. “I’m Action, also.” He extends his hand, expecting you to shake it, which wasn’t typically something people around your age, as you assumed he was, tended to do anymore.

You reached up and took his hand, and he gently shook it before another guy decided to introduce himself. The one who seemed to keep a weird grin plastered across his face.

“I’m Anthony.” He gave you a little wave. That only led you to expect the last man to follow the others up, so you glanced over at him, but he kept his eyes on Tyler.

“Darius.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off the man next to you.

“Nice to meet y’all.” You offered a smile, “I’m Y/N.”

“Yeah, we-“ but before Anthony could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Darius nudging his ribs with his elbow. The two of them exchanged rather tense glances before you felt the energy between everyone suddenly shift into some weird, awkward tension.

“Uh- are you coming to the show tonight?” Anthony asked instead, glancing between you and Tyler.

“No, I actually didn’t know there was anything happening tonight. I didn’t know you were all pro wrestlers until he told me.” You point over at Tyler, who is finding it hard to sit there silently.

“Oh, so you don’t know who he is?” Anthony asks, looking a bit taken back. You looked over at Tyler and back up at his friend.

“You’ve never heard of Hook before?” He adds on, but that’s when Tyler looks over his shoulder and pipes up.

“She just said she didn’t know who we were.” He couldn’t help the aggravated tone, simply because he could see what his friends were doing and he didn’t care for it too much.

Darius placed his hand firmly on Anthony’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, which was a silent gesture to tell him to stop talking.

That’s when Tyler looked back at you, and you caught his softened eyes for a split second before he sent you a small nod and lifted himself up out of the water completely.

“Nice meeting you, Y/N.” Anthony beams, offering you a wave, as well as the other two guys who nod toward you as they all group up and head towards the hotel.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” You heard Tyler say as he heads back over to where they were previously tossing the ball. He grabs his shirt and tosses it over his shoulder, then slides those shades back over his eyes and waits for the guys to fully disappear inside before he makes his way back over to you.

“Sorry about them.” He mutters as he sits back down next to you, submerging his legs back in the water.

“It’s alright, they seem nice.” You shrug as you start to sway your legs.

“Sometimes.” He smirks as he runs his hand back through his hair, flinging droplets of water across your cheek. “But uh, I don’t know if you’re gonna be here later or not-“

“Yeah, for the next two days.” You didn’t mean to answer that so abruptly, but the margaritas and this man’s unusual charm had to be to blame for that. You felt your cheeks heat up when he looked over at you, sliding his tongue over his lips once before he nods.

“Me too.”

“Maybe I’ll see you later then.” You shrugged, feeling that unavoidable feeling brewing in your stomach, similar to what people say they feel when they have butterflies, but until then, you’d never experienced that before.

“Yeah, maybe.” He smirks as he pulls his legs out the water and rises back to his feet.

“Have fun beating people’s asses.” You grin before you take the last sip of yet another margarita, and he simply smiles back before he drops his head and makes his way towards the doors, leaving you sitting on the edge of the pool wishing he was still right there next to you.

———

Somewhere in the midst of a few more margaritas and somehow managing to recognize your hotel room, you ended up taking a pretty long nap.

You woke up around one in the morning, quite literally starving to death. You grabbed the laminated menu sitting on the bedside table and scanned your options, until you realized that room service was no longer available after midnight.

Letting out a groan that sounded similar to your stomach growling, you got up from the comfort of the plush bedsheets and slipped on your shoes. Taking a glance in the mirror was a little unnecessary at the moment. You should’ve known you were going to look a hot mess after how hard you crashed.

You took a second to wipe the smudges of mascara below your eyes and comb your fingers through your disheveled hair before you headed out the door, towards the elevator.

Thankfully your intoxication wore off at least eighty percent, so you were no longer wobbly on your feet, but you were still feeling a little buzzed and blamed that on the reason why you it took you a whole minute to figure out which elevator button takes you down to the main lobby.

You managed to get there without stopping on any other floor first, so you felt like that was an accomplishment. Your eyes landed on the doors that led to the cafeteria and you could smell the mixes of different foods the second you stepped out the elevator.

“I wonder why they can’t just bring this up to my room. Why do I have to come all the way down here and get it myself just because it’s late?” You mumbled under your breath, even though you meant to keep that thought in your mind. Another thing to blame on the alcohol.

You approached the buffet bar and immediately gravitated towards the pizza station. Two slices were plated and passed to you by one of the women behind the counter who didn’t appear all that thrilled to be serving food at one in the morning, but you could understand that.

You were just about to take your plate back up to your room, but decided last minute that you wanted to go outside and sit by the pool instead. With nobody being around that late at night, it sounded like a peaceful way to spend the next hour or so.

You kicked back in one of the lounge chairs after you finished eating, staring up at the stars that blanketed the sky, like diamonds dazzling above you. You searched for the brightest one of them all, as you always do, because when you were younger your grandma always told you that star belongs to you.

You found it a little over to the left, glimmering around the illuminated band of the moon and felt yourself smile. Maybe it was just another thing to blame on the alcohol you still had bits of running through your veins, but you couldn’t help but to grin from ear to ear from the simplicity of stargazing.

It was quiet compared to the daytime hustle and bustle of the city and the peaceful atmosphere was nice. You could’ve sat out there for hours on end happily enjoying your own company, but the silence was rather short lived when you heard the rowdiness of the group of guys from earlier right outside the gate.

You looked over and found the four boys stumbling around, laughing and making jokes amongst each other as they walked towards the hotel doors.

Your eyes zeroed in on Tyler specifically, who had a hood over his head but you recognized him by the his wild hair shoved underneath it. You wondered if they ended up going out to a club after all, seeing as how they all seemed to be a little drunk themselves.

You couldn’t help but to let out a quiet laugh, hoping you wouldn’t be heard, when one of the guys, you think you remember by the name Darius, says something that was apparently so hilarious it causes Tyler’s laugh to echo all around.

You looked back over towards the jacuzzi you’d been thinking about getting into for the last thirty or so minutes once the boys disappeared inside. Eventually, your temptations got the better of you and you found yourself sitting on the edge with your legs submerged in the hot, rolling water.

You stared down at the bubbles forming from the jets and the multicolored lights casting a rainbow glow on the surface, a little entranced by the ever-changing variations, so much so that you didn’t even hear the footsteps behind you.

“Hey” You heard a deep voice softly speak, but it startled you nonetheless. You jumped slightly when you looked over to find Tyler grinning at you, amusement in his hazy eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” He chuckles before he grabs a lounge chair and pulls it closer to you. He takes a seat and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and subconsciously twisting the ring wrapped around his finger.

“You’re fine.” You managed to chuckle back after the initial shock wore off. “Did you end up going to a club?” You decided to ask, but the answer seemed pretty obvious to you judging by the way he was giving himself away completely.

The hazy, low eyes and a relaxed, easy smirk to match. His cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue, he couldn’t keep his hands still. He’d definitely been drinking, but you were finding it funny how you didn’t even know this man and yet it was so obvious to tell the difference between him being sober and intoxicated.

“For a little while. Didn’t really care for it though.” He shrugs as he slides his ring up and down his finger. “What did you do tonight?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, as if he was genuinely interested.

You didn’t know why you were smiling all over again, but you were. It might’ve been the alcohol but you weren’t sure how many things you could truthfully blame on a couple too many margaritas you had hours ago.

“Well, I ended up going to my room and passing out for a couple hours, then I woke up, got some food and came out here to enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“Oh, am I disturbing your peace right now?” He half-smirks, exposing one dimple.

You felt your cheeks practically burning and the steam from the jacuzzi wasn’t making it any better. You shook your head and looked down at the ring he was now twirling around.

“I’m okay with it.” You shrugged easily, doing your best to not let it show that you were feeling a little nervous all over again. Just like previously when the two of you were sitting on the edge of the pool, you couldn’t help it. Something about him had the capability to make your stomach erupt with those butterfly feelings everyone always claims, and you weren’t sure if you really liked it or not, but at the moment, you couldn’t fight against it.

The ring he was fidgeting with stilled for a second before he looked down at the ground, clearly trying to hide that wide smile you would’ve rather been shown.

“What about you?” You asked as you leaned back on your palms, attempting to keep the steam from engulfing your already heated skin. He looked up then, his eyes a little droopy but you couldn’t help but to find it cute. “How’d the show go?”

He started sliding that ring on and off different fingers as he spoke. “Pretty good. I mean, my back is killing me but other than that, I think it went pretty good.” He chuckles.

“So you’re the one that got your ass beat?” you teased, watching as his lips spread in a wider smile that he quickly brought his fist up to cover.

“I mean, maybe a little, yeah.” He nods, his laugh once again echoing around you, and something about it just must have been contagious, because your couldn’t help but to laugh with him.

“Well, i’m sure you’ll get ‘em next time.” You say as you look back down at the changing lights glowing against the stones of the jacuzzi. It grew silent between the two of you for a couple seconds, but only until the liquid courage he was enduring kept him feeling bold enough to talk a little more.

“So why are you here?” He asks, remembering you telling him you would only be staying at the hotel for two days. You look over at him, and he feels the need to clarify the question that he feels may have came out wrong. “I mean like- you said you were only here for two days, so are you on vacation or-?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to get out of town, really. I was getting tired of the same old stuff. I had a few days off so I thought it would be fun to just go somewhere else and pretend like I live a luxurious life.” You joked, and felt your cheeks burning once more when you made him laugh again.

“I mean, this is a pretty luxurious hotel.” He shrugs as he leans up and stretches his arms out. “My room came stocked with all the alcohol you can drink.”

“Mine too, but the frozen margaritas are my kryptonite.” You say, wishing you had one you could be sipping on just to calm to rushing nerves coursing heavily through you.

“I noticed.” He smirks, holding your stare for a few seconds longer before you were the one to have to break it first.

Just then, his phone rang in his pocket, and he took a minute to retrieve it before he answered. You could hear the deep voice of one of the guys you met earlier but you couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Yeah, yeah. Alright. Uh, nah i’m just gonna chill out here for a while I think. Alright bro, bye.”

He slid the phone back in his pocket and you were trying a little too hard to hide the velvet tinge across your cheeks at the fact that he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

“Anthony.” He mutters as he shakes his head. “They’re tryna get me to come up and drink a bottle with them.”

“You don’t want to?” You asked, watching as he shrugged his shoulder and slightly shook his head.

“Nah, not really. Not up there, at least.” He then slips his arm through the strap of his backpack and pulls the bag around to his lap, unzipping it and pulling out a bottle with a grin.

“It’s not a frozen margarita, but if you want some you’re welcome to it.” He twists the cap off the bottle and takes a few sips before he extends it out to you.

You thought about it for a second, but not for very long before you grabbed it and held it out to see it better.

“Peach Crown?” You asked, “Never had it before.”

“It’s good.” he says as pulls his chair a tad bit closer.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You say before you take your first sip, followed by a couple more when you realized how smooth it went down.

You passed the bottle back to him and noticed the expectant look on his face. It was as if he was waiting to say he told you so.

“okay. yeah, It’s pretty good.” You admit. You feel his fingers brush over yours for a fraction of a second as he grabs the bottle from your hand and you were unsure why that slight and simple touch sent shivers cascading down your spine.

“I’m not even a big fan of sweet drinks but I tried this at the club and had to get a bottle.” He says before he takes a couple more sips and passes it back.

You grabbed the bottle again and tasted a hint of mint when you took your next sip, but the whisky washed it away before it got the chance linger against your tongue.

You heard him rummaging around in his bag again, this time pulling out a cream colored box and a lighter with some bold print across the side of it. He pulls a Black n Mild out of the box and places the plastic mouthpiece between his lips before he sparks the lighter and cups his hand around the flame.

His brows furrow as he lights the end of the cigar and inhales his first draw, exhaling a cloud of thick, gray smoke that has a slightly sweet tinge when it lingers around you.

“Wanna hit this?” He asks as you pass him the bottle back, and you had to admit you were a little bit tempted, but you declined for the simple fact that nicotine used to have a vice grip on you in college and the last thing you wanted was to spark an old flame that you probably won’t be able to burn out a second time.

You watched as he took one more rather large gulp and placed the bottle down between the two of you, and took a couple more hits from the cigar, blowing O’s above his head that stretched out the higher they got, until they completely faded away.

“My dad used to always do that.” You admitted all too easily for some weird reason, immediately shutting down the second the words slipped from your lips, because you never talked about that man to anyone.

“Mine still does.” He says as he stares up and watches the rings eventually fade into the darkness. Then he caught what you said fully and looked down at you.

“Oh, wait” he says as he attempts to read the look on your face. “What happened? He stopped smoking or something?”

You shook your head but shrugged your shoulder afterwards. “No, i’m pretty sure he still does. I just don’t see him anymore. But I remember when I was younger we’d sit out on the porch and he’d always blow those smoke rings.” You managed to chuckle even though speaking about the man in general made you want to completely close down.

Tyler stared at you for a few seconds, tapping his finger against the end of the cigar to ash it as he processed what you just said, and quite frankly, he was unsure what to say back.

You were quick to push the entire topic to the back burner as you grabbed the bottle sitting an arm length away and brought it back to your lips, this time tasting the pungent tobacco mixed with the sweet liquor. You set the bottle back down, pushing it a little closer his way and glanced up at him when you heard him speak again.

“How come you don’t see him anymore?” he asked, his voice a little softer spoken than it previously was.

You look down at the bottle, feeling like you’d need a couple more sips before you can even think about having a conversation pertaining to that, but you resist the urge to grab it again.

“A lot of reasons.” You shrug your shoulder, keeping your eyes on the amber liquid. “Mainly him just not wanting anything to do with any of the kids he has.” You chuckle coldly, shaking your head. “But it’s fine, cause in all reality, it’s for the best. All he’s ever done is hurt me so i’ve pretty much accepted the fact that I just don’t need to allow him in my life.”

You felt the weird feeling of a heavy weight being lifted off of you, as if there was a constant pressure weighing down on you but you never noticed it until it miraculously vanished.

Tyler let your words resonate with him for a minute, and even though he was pretty drunk, he still managed to comprehend everything you said. He couldn’t deny that it sounded sad to him, and he could see that talking about it visibly brought a deep pain to the surface for you, and he didn’t want to bring you down by making you tell him about something that clearly hurt you.

Truthfully, he was just curious about you. He didn’t know why, but right from the start earlier that day when he had that first initial run in with you, something about you instantly intrigued him, and it was beyond the range of just your physical appearance, even though he couldn’t deny that he was immediately attracted to you the second he got a good look at you for the first time.

Still, there was something else about you that he felt compelled to dive deeper into. He thought about you a couple different times after he left the pool. Once before his match as he was getting his wrists taped up. Once after his match when he was scanning the sea of faces in the crowd. Twice at the club when he remembered you getting interrupted in the middle of telling him where some good places to go were. And once more when he and the guys made it back to the hotel and he couldn’t help but wonder if, by some unlikely chance, you’d be sitting where he left you hours prior.

“I’m sorry that things have to be that way, but I understand it. I’ve had to cut off people I care about for my own wellbeing too. It sucks to have to do that, but sometimes it’s the best thing you can do for yourself.”

You found yourself a little taken back that he wasn’t saying the things it seemed like everyone else ever did. How you should let the past go and give your dad another chance. Your father is always your father no matter what. Don’t hold a grudge forever, etc.

You simply nodded because you weren’t sure what else you could really say, but you could see that there was a mutual understanding and it made you a lot less regretful about opening up to someone you barely knew.

“What about your mom?” He asks, and really it was more of him blurting that out, but he couldn’t help it because genuinely, he was just curious about what made you, you.

“I love my mom.” You found yourself smiling without realizing it, and the way your eyes lit up brought a slight smile to his face, too.

“She’s honestly the strongest woman i’ve ever known. She went through a lot with my dad. Raised three kids all on her own and always made a way no matter how impossible it seemed. I admire her, honestly.”

You looked back up at the stars, finding yourself wondering what your mom might be up to, and making a mental note to call her in the morning.

“What about your parents?” You asked him after a moment. “What are they like?”

You looked back over at him, catching his soft gaze before he adverts his eyes to the rolling water you just pulled your legs out of.

“They’re my role models, honestly.” He grins as he keeps his sights set on the changing lights. “My mom is just, all around an amazing woman. My dad is probably the best friend i’ve ever had. Im really thankful to have the parents I got.”

He feels the slightest sting when he says that, knowing that you evidently didn’t have what he has, but when he looks back at you, all he sees is a soft smile gracing your lips.

“That’s amazing.” You softly spoke, and he simply nods back before he takes another draw from the black n mild.

“Do you have any siblings?” You decided to ask, thinking about your brother and sister that happened to come to mind.

“Nah, it’s just me, actually. I’ve always wanted some though. Always wanted a little brother cause I just thought it would be cool, but my parents never had another one.” He shrugs. “What about you?”

“I have a little sister, a little brother, and apparently a couple more siblings i’ve never met.” You chuckle as you shake your head. “But my brother and my sister are the ones I grew up with. I was always the oldest so, I don’t know, I guess that’s why I have such a strong bond with them. My dad has more kids with other women, but like I said, i’ve never met them. I’d like to, but I probably never will.”

Tyler nodded along as he listened, his eyes trained on the concrete underneath his feet.

“Wow” you shake your head, “That drink must have some truth serum in it or something. I never really talk about stuff like this.” You managed to laugh it off, but you were a little surprised at yourself for opening up to this man so effortlessly when it usually took you a minimum of a few years to tell anyone anything deeply personal about you.

“I don’t either.” You heard him say.

He then reached down and grabbed the bottle, holding it as he stood up and took a couple steps towards you. he sat down next to you, stretching out one of his legs and bending the other at the knee as he leaned back on one hand, and sipped the bottle with the other one.

His shoulder brushed yours and you couldn’t help but to feel those nerves wracking around inside all over again, but you tried to mask that with another gulp of that liquid poison when he handed it over to you.

By this point the two of you had finished half of that bottle and needless to say, you were feeling the effects more than you might’ve realized at first.

You looked over at him as you passed the bottle back, taking notice of his defined jaw that looked like it could slice through anything that comes in contact with it.

He was about to take another sip before he caught you staring, turning to face you with even droopier eyes and that same, relaxed half-smirk.

“What are you thinking about right now?” He caught you off guard when he asked you that, and truthfully you didn’t have very many thoughts running through your mind for once. You were too distracted by his features to really process anything else, but of course you weren’t about to tell him that.

He placed the cigar between his lips and squinted one eye when the smoke sifted near it, inhaling another smoke filled draw into his lungs before he turned his head away to exhale it all. Then he looked back at you, waiting for your answer with a slight gleam in his low eyes.

“I’m not really thinking about anything, surprisingly.” You tell him, catching the exact moment that his eyes linger to your lips and he involuntarily slides his tongue over his own. You felt a trillion little fires blazing beneath your cheeks, a bit of an excited feeling spouting through you, mixed with sudden and complete nervousness all at the same time.

This time, you couldn’t blame it on the liquor. You may be drunkenly consumed by the remnants of the margarita and the fresh course of the peach crown, but everything you were feeling so intensely had nothing to do with any of that. It was all him, and the way your heart skipped two beats when he looked into your eyes again, only solidified that.

“What are you thinking right now?” You asked him, voice a bit shaky but you hoped he didn’t notice.

He tilted his head to the side slightly before you heard the bottle being placed down next to him. His eyes flashed to your lips once again before they roamed back up to match your suddenly wanting gaze, and that’s when he turned his head and put the cigar out against the concrete, before he turned back to face you.

“I’d rather show you.” His voice was suddenly raspier and it could’ve been the harsh tobacco and the liquor, but something made you think it was a little more than just that.

You felt your heart on the verge of imploding in your chest, thumping rapidly against your rib cage, so much so that you could only hear the pulsations pounding in your ears.

But the second he leaned a little closer, and you met him halfway, your lips collided all too easily and suddenly, all of the rapid beatings from your racing pulse were instantly washed away.

You melted beneath his touch the second his lips landed on yours. His hand, calloused and edged, was somehow so gentle against your cheek as his thumb slowly stroked over your skin. The taste of the liquor you’d both been drinking, mixed with the tart tobacco and still just the faintest hint of mint, embedded in your tongue when your lips parted and allowed him in.

The slightest moan you didn’t realize you let out made him smile against you, and the second you felt his lips slipping away, you chased his kiss like you needed it to survive.

It was a game of push and pull, but the two of you couldn’t seem to let your lips detach for even a fraction of a second. It was all consuming, leaving you feeling lightheaded but you couldn’t bare to put a stop to it, until the both of you were completely out of breath and had no other choice but to break away for air.

You left his lips puffy and tinged red and he left yours kiss-bitten and only yearning for more. His thumb rubbed over your bottom lip once before his fingers tangled up in your hair and he pulled you right back in.

So lost in the heat of the moment, spinning out of control in one of the best ways possible, you ended up getting pulled on top of him, straddling his waist with your arms locked around the back of his neck.

He leaned back slightly, his palms roaming up your sides, around your back and down to your hips. You felt his fingertips sliding beneath the end of your shirt, and everywhere he touched simply struck a blaze beneath your skin.

He pulled back slightly, his lips barely grazing yours as he fluttered his eyes open and waited for you to do the same. You caught his gaze and the undeniable gleam dancing in his dark eyes, something that made you want to immediately pursue anything he might’ve had his mind set on.

“Tell me something nobody knows about you.” He mutters breathily, sliding his hands fully beneath your shirt to caress your sides.

You eyed him for a moment, biting down on your bottom lip without realizing it, maybe just trying to feel the friction he took away.

“Something nobody knows?” You asked, subconsciously twirling the ends of his hair between your fingers as you put some thought into it. He kept roaming his hands up and down your sides, your smoothed skin was a beautiful comparison to his tougher palms and one jagged fingernail that scraped against you.

“I’m scared of snakes.” You shrugged, but he only smirked and shook his head at you.

“Everyone is. Something deeper than that.”

You pulled back a tad bit, your eyes lingering down to his puffed lips that you were dying to get another taste of.

“I-“ you hesitated, and he could see it immediately.

“Tell me.” He gently urged, rubbing his thumbs back and to against your hips. You looked into his eyes, that intense, strong gaze unwavering when you caught it again.

Suddenly, for some strange reason, it was all too easy to admit something you’d never told anyone, and never planned to in your entire life.

“I have a scar on my thigh from my ex boyfriend pushing me down some stairs when I was in high school, and it’s pretty noticeable, but i’ve never told anyone where it came from because- I don’t know, honestly. I just, i’ve never told anyone what happened. I just said I fell.”

Once again, there was that strange feeling of an immense weight feeling like it had been lifted right off of your chest, and maybe all you needed to do was open up to people a little more instead of keeping a brick wall built around your heart, but up until Tyler, that was never possible for you.

His jaw throbbed twice before his eyes adverted down for a second, then back up. You could easily see the shift. The blackest of hues casted over them.

“Can I see it.” He whispered, and suddenly you felt like closing yourself off once again. He could tell that you were apprehensive, which was why he added, “Please?” as he rubbed small circles against your skin.

You took a moment before you leaned back a little, pulling your shorts up just a tad to expose the embedded scar you always carefully hid, traced high up against your skin.

He looked down, taking in the look of the faded yet deep indentation, clenching his teeth hard behind his lips.

“Needed nineteen stitches.” You mutter as you slide your finger over the jagged line. It still makes you cringe just to touch.

Tyler slides his hand out from underneath your shirt and brings it down to your thigh, his fingertip delicately tracing over that wound once before he looks back up into your eyes again, this time with a sharper stare that could slice right through you.

“He should’ve got his ass beat for that” His gravely voice suddenly feels like it has the power to physically shake you.

“He didn’t, but I did leave him.” You say back, watching as he nods and slides his hand back underneath your shirt, roaming it up to the middle of your back before he pulls you closer.

“Good.” He mutters before he leans in and locks his lips with yours, once again making you melt into him for the second time, and hopefully not the last.

You felt his fingertips graze underneath the thin strap of your bathing suit you’d yet to change out of, the moment suddenly escalating into something so breathtakingly intense.

His tongue explored every square inch of your mouth, leaving the taste of him lingering. That mix of heavy tobacco, peach and mint you knew you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

But just then, his phone rang in his pocket, and he stilled as soon as he heard it, debating whether he should let it go or at least see who it was calling.

His hand slipped away from your skin and you missed it there immensely, almost immediately. He dug around in his pocket and pulled the phone out, chasing your lips one last time before he completely detached to look down at who’s name might’ve been floating on his screen.

He sighed before he answered, holding the phone up to his ear, and this time, you were close enough to hear the conversation.

“Yeah?” He bit out with an annoyed tone, which only made a bashful grin play on your face. You leaned back a little and looked at him, taking the moment to really study his features, even if your vision was a little blurred and the lighting around the pool area was barely illuminating anything.

Your fingers absentmindedly twirled some loose ends of his hair as you watched his lips move when he spoke.

“Nah, I’m not. I’m out by the pool right now-“

Just then you heard the voice on the other end of the line say your name and something incomprehensible after that. Tyler rolled his eyes, his shoulders stiffening a little bit as he leaned back a bit and discreetly turned the volume down.

“Stop.” He cut in, his voice suddenly demanding. You felt his fingers grazing your skin with his freehand, and he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“I don’t know yet. Later.” He shrugs one shoulder as he speaks back into the phone, growing increasingly impatient by the passing second.

You could hear a couple laughs by various voices rumbling through the speaker, but that’s when Tyler hung up the phone and silenced it before he laid it down next to him.

You tilted your head to the side, your curiosity undoubtedly piqued and proceeded to ask him, “What was that about?”

He shook his head and placed his hand on your thigh firmly as he leaned up some. “Just my friends being aggravating, it’s nothin.” He says as he roams that hand a little higher.

You only nodded, your eyes glancing back down to those swollen lips you just couldn’t seem to get enough of. You leaned back into him and he met your kiss halfway once again, but it was short-lived when he pulled back, out of nowhere, his eyes filled with something you deemed unfamiliar and rather unreadable.

His lips parted but he didn’t speak for a moment, trying to find the right words. Truthfully, he was nervous to ask, because he didn’t know if he was about to ruin the moment or exemplify the passions of it, and the last thing he wanted to do was give you the wrong impression of him.

He inhaled a slow breath before he finally let the words out, feeling his hands start to get clammy against your skin.

“I know we just met, and this is all kind of going fast, but I’m okay with it… if you are?”

You felt the air get caught in your lungs, blinking twice as you realized what might be about to happen next.

His nervous antics caused his fingers to fidget a little and you felt that against your back. He desperately awaited your response as he stared solely into your eyes, showing nothing but pure urgency for you, and anxiousness mixed in with it.

You felt your heart beginning to hammer in your chest again, bringing back those violent pulsations to pound in your ears and at this point you were fairly certain he’d be able to hear it himself.

All you could do was attempt to calm yourself but there was hardly any use to that, and instead of giving him a straight forward answer like he was waiting for, all you did was pull yourself off of him, and he watched you intently as you stood up and slipped your shirt over your head, and your shorts down to your ankles before you stepped out of them.

He’d already seen you in that bathing suit but it was different this time. His eyes roamed down to admire every curve and crevice your body had to offer, shamelessly stopping to take in specific parts of you that he could pinpoint as his favorites immediately.

You kept your eyes on him as you took a step back and stepped down into the shallow, heated water, that you already knew wasn’t going to help your case when your skin already felt like it was set ablaze, and all due to his simplest touches.

He never took his eyes off of you as he followed your lead, standing up and pulling that hoodie, along with an undershirt over his head, exposing those sharp abs and a series of tattoos you wanted to know the meaning behind.

You lowered yourself until the water rested at your shoulders and waited for him to join you. He pulled his joggers down, already had swimming trunks on and you couldn’t help but to smirk when you noticed that.

“Did you have this all planned out?” You asked as you motion over the trunks that sat dangerously low around his hips.

“I planned to come out here.” He says as he takes a step down into the water. “Didn’t think i’d be lucky enough to see you again, though.” He says as he lowers himself down. The water stopped halfway up his chest, his skin fusing red from the heat, but neither of you minded it.

He reached back and picked up that bottle that was long forgotten by you, taking a few sips before he handed it over.

“Might as well finish what we started.” He shrugs, referring to the rest of the liquor filling only a quarter of that glass bottle.

You grabbed it from him and took two sips, and he found it a little fascinating how you never winced when the poison hit your throat.

When you passed it back to him, he placed it back down on the edge of the jacuzzi and brought his arm up to rest lazily behind you.

The liquor was the only reason why you weren’t a complete mess. Somehow you managed to steady your thundering heart and the knots in your stomach were only barely noticeable by that point, and all you felt were tingles skating through your whole body. Like an unspoken plea for his touch that your skin craved, but your lips didn’t speak.

You turned your head to look at him, and he was already staring back at you with a crooked smirk and that knee-weakening dimple embedded in his cheek. He had a bit of a deeper, rosier tinge casted over his skin, mixed with that glint in his eye that you couldn’t miss even if you tried to.

“I enjoy talking to you.” He says as his fingers play with the ends of your hair that falls over your shoulder. “You’re very enjoyable to talk to.” He adds, earning a chuckle to slip past your lips and his. It was obvious that the alcohol had sunk in judging by the goofy grin he had and the way his words were a bit slurred, but it was the same for you.

“You think you’d say that if you were sober right now?” You quirked a brow at him.

“I know I would.” He says with a reassuring nod. “Just cause i’m drinking doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about right now. I mean everything i’m saying to you. I don’t usually, like, open up to people I just met, believe it or not. But it’s… it’s just easy to do with you.”

You felt your lips sliding up into another smile, probably for the hundredth time that night.

“I feel the same way with you. I mean, I told you something i’ve never told anybody else before. So, if that doesn’t say something, I don’t really know what will.”

“Says a whole lot.” He smirks, his eyes involuntarily flickering down to your lips all over again, and you knew in that moment that you were done talking when you subconsciously leaned in towards each other.

His kiss might end up being your biggest weakness from that point on. You just knew that when you inevitably part ways, you were going to be craving the feeling he so effortlessly gave you.

He was trying not to worry about the fact that the time was so limited. All he wanted to was to savor every last second he gets to have with you. Everything else just simply wasn’t on his mind anymore.

You found yourself back on top of him, this time with very little clothing in between. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingertips trailing through the patches of hair that made a path from the middle of his chest, down his torso until it disappeared beneath his trunks.

A low groan reverberated through his throat when you slightly ground down against him, feeling the hard bulge beneath the thin fabric that he was ready to rip right off.

You felt his hand snake around from your lower back to your hip, before his fingers dipped underneath the band of your bathing suit bottoms, eliciting a gasp the second you felt the pad of his middle finger graze over your throbbing clit.

He leaned in more to lock his lips with yours again as he swirled that finger fluidly, reveling in the mix of breathy sighs and sweet, low moans that slipped past your lips and got trapped somewhere within him.

His tongue slid around yours, and that particular flavor made itself at home when it sunk into your tastebuds.

The circular motions of just that single finger had your entire body buzzing. Your nails dug down into his shoulders and you felt the thick band of muscle flex when he felt the sting, but he didn’t stop you, nor did he want to.

“You wanna go up to my room?” He mutters against your lips as he quickens the pace. You had to take a minute to collect yourself just enough to be able to respond to him, and that only happened when he slowed down those circular motions to give you a chance to speak properly.

You shook your head, and he pulled back to look at you with a bit of a confused look crossing his face.

“Don’t wanna go anywhere. I wanna do this right here.” You breathed out, and it was evident that he was a little taken back by that.

He eyed you for a second before he glanced over both of his shoulders. There was nobody around, most of the room lights were turned off that he could see by the windows, and granted the two of you had been out there for quite a while without anybody else intruding.

“That’s a little risky.” He says, but he smirks right after, and you could see the gleam sparking in his eyes when the thrill of possibly getting caught red handed took over him, too.

“I’m willing to take a risk tonight if you are.” You whisper back, sliding your tongue over your lips before you lean back into him, catching his kiss before he has a chance to speak.

His answer was given to you when you felt him pull the string of your bikini that was tied against your hip. The fabric melted off the right side of you before he reached down and pulled the other one, leaving you completely bare underneath the boiling water.

He kept his lips locked with yours, his tongue never getting tired of exploring each and every inch within your mouth as he lifted up just a little to pull his trunks down enough.

When there was no clothing keeping the two of you separated under the water, you felt a rush of nerves jolting through you. It suddenly became more than a heavy make out when your bodies collided.

You pulled back from his lips, inhaling the much needed oxygen that suddenly felt a little bit suffocating, and he kept his eyes trained intently on you as he stilled every single movement.

“We can slow down.” He whispers breathily, but you shake your head almost too abruptly.

“No, it’s not that. it’s just, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me either. I don’t, honestly, I don’t ever do this. I just want you to know that.”

“I already knew that.” He softly whispers back. “I could tell. And, you might not believe this, but I don’t ever do these types of things either.”

You didn’t believe him as much as he probably believed you, but you didn’t want to waste what little time you had questioning whether or not he was being completely honest with you.

“You didn’t give me a bad impression of you. Not at all. Why do you think I came back out here tonight?”

“Cause you wanted to sit by the pool, I thought?”

“The only reason I wanted to do that was because I was hoping i’d see you out here again.” He admits, making your heart skip at least three beats.

“I’m glad you did.” You beam before the temptations get the best of you all over again. You lean back into him, latching your lips with his for what felt like the millionth time, but you weren’t even close to getting tired of it.

That kiss certainly, and suddenly escalated into something so much more when he reached down and grabbed himself, positioning so that he could easily push up into you.

But before he did that, he made it a point to pull back one last time, catching your eyes when they fluttered open.

“Are you positive you wanna do this?” He asks, his voice has a whole new edge to it, exemplifying how serious he was about the simple question.

You nodded easily before you said, “positive”, and that’s when his eyes scanned yours, searching for the faintest hint of dishonesty, but he found none at all.

He nodded once before you felt his tip at your entrance, and you braced yourself for what was to come next.

He kept his dark eyes focused on you as he slowly angled his hips upwards, pushing himself in just a little at a time.

Your brows knitted together the moment you felt him stretching you out, and he could tell by the way your walls were clamping down around him, that it had probably been a while since you’ve done this with anybody else.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He mutters, trying and failing to keep his voice steady and strong, because the immaculate feeling you were giving him was already sending him off to a euphoric planet.

You grasped his strong shoulders and lowered yourself down, pushing him in even more. The searing, stinging pain quickly faded away once you completely accepted every inch of him. He was certainly bigger than anyone else had been before him, and somehow he could already tell that, and he’d be lying right through his teeth if he said that didn’t stroke his ego a little bit.

He held his hips still until he felt you relax. He let you take the lead, simply because he didn’t want to be too overwhelming.

Once you starting rocking your hips, his eyes immediately rolled back. The way your tight walls clutched him could’ve very well became a new addiction that he wouldn’t know how to overcome anytime soon.

You bit down on your lower lip to attempt to keep your moans at a minimum as you swayed back and to, causing waves in the rolling water that splashed up to the surface over and over again.

He felt beads of sweat sliding down his temple, tasted some saltiness on his lips, too. He didn’t realize how worked up he really was until he was fighting with all his might not to grab your hips and mercilessly fuck into you.

He watched as you took all of him better than it seemed like you were going to at first. You somehow knew exactly what to do to feel him as deep as he could possibly go, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly, and he found himself completely adoring the fact that you were using his body to your advantage.

Your head tipped back the moment he thrusted his hips up, hitting a spot that you never knew you had, that made an immediate wave of warm tingles course through your veins.

He wrapped both arms around your lower back and pulled you flush against him, finding your lips and captivating them with his own.

He slowly angled his hips back and to, loving the sounds that slipped through your lips with each gentle thrust.

Your nails left half-moon indentations in his shoulders, and they’d probably end up being there for a couple days after.

You were beginning to feel your head spin out of control again, but all you did was embrace that wildly unstoppable feeling with everything you had, and all he did was enhance it each time you felt his tongue glide across your lips, and his breathy groans get lost within your mouth.

The passions were running deeper than either of you could’ve ever braced yourselves for. Your bodies were intuitively connected, moving in perfect rhythm, complete harmony.

You’d never felt more in tune with anyone else before in your life, and he’d never felt more encapsulated by anybody he’d ever been with before.

He started thrusting faster when he picked up on the signs you gave him. You could hardly keep your composure when you felt him repeatedly pounding into you, knocking against your sweet spot perfectly.

Your knees started to ache as they bared down into the step of the jacuzzi, your thighs burning from how far they were spread apart, but neither of those feelings mattered enough in that moment.

All you were focused on was what Tyler was doing to you. The riveting sensations that overpowered your buzzing body. The way his low, deep groans made you clench down around him. His arms wrapped tightly around your back as he rocked up into you.

You had to press your lips against his shoulder to muffle the unfaltering moans, and he held you tighter before he picked up the pace once more.

His lips placed a few loose kisses to your neck as he pushed himself in and out of you with a force that made waves arise in all different directions.

The sounds of the water splashing against the tile, breathy sighs, groans and muffled moans were all that the two of you could hear.

He felt you pulsate around him again, a couple high moans escaping from his shoulder and you couldn’t help it. Your eyes screwed shut as you clinged to him, drawing small traces of blood where your nails dug down, but he wouldn’t have minded it either way.

He heard his name slip past your lips before you even realized you said it, and he couldn’t help the feelings that gave him.

A mix of incomprehensible cries of pure pleasure lingered around you both and he wasn’t worried about the sounds any longer when he knew you were so close to that earth-shattering orgasm he was aiming to give you.

He kept his thrusts strong and steady even when he felt like his knees were becoming too weak. His brows furrowed in complete concentration as he kept trying to hold back until he felt you release around him.

He leaned back and turned his head to the side, waiting for you to look back at him, and when you did, you could see the dazed and blissed out look in his low, faded eyes.

His puffed lips were parted, some slick ends of his hair cling to the sides of his face, brows furrowed intently and he looked like the epitome perfection in your eyes for everything you ever knew it to be.

You couldn’t help but to catch his lips once more, completely allowing any and all the sounds that he pulled from you to get lost within him.

His arms tightened around you again, your chest flush with his and tongues at war for the umpteenth time that night, until he felt your body shudder and your mouth fall open, breaking that heated kiss the second you felt that high crash into you with a force that nearly made you tremble.

He leaned back to watch you, finding you somehow even more beautiful than he already thought you were. Your head tipped back as you welcomed that all consuming rush that found home in your veins and spread rapidly through every last inch of you.

His name once again flew past your lips and that’s when his hips stuttered, and one drawn out, low groan escaped his lips as his head tipped back and his and your releases mixed within you.

Your eyes rolled the moment you felt him fill you, the warmth engulfing you as it took over.

You peered your eyes open and saw the hazy blur of the stars above, though a couple of them probably weren’t actually there in the first place.

He picked his head back up and watched as you came down from that high he was quite proud about giving you. Both of your chests were heaving deeply, heavy breaths emitting past your lips and his, and the moment you locked eyes again, there was a brief pause in the quick rhythm of your racing heart.

His pupils were dilated, matching the moon above as he looked back at you, lips practically bruised by this point and cheeks far deeper than just a rosy hue.

He slid his tongue between his lips before he slowly pulled himself out of you, and you had to admit that you missed the feeling of him stretching you out immediately.

“I, uh-“ he stammers as he pulls his trunks back up, and you take that as your sign to reach behind him and grab the other half of your two-piece and assemble it back in place.

“I came in you.” He says as he eyes you worriedly. “I shouldn’t have, I mean, I should’ve pulled out. Right?”

What you didn’t know, was that it was the first time he’d done that before. Usually he wore a condom and then he didn’t have to pull out of whoever he happened to be with, but most times he would just let them swallow it. He never even thought about fucking someone else completely raw with the intentions to do what he just did.

“I’m on birth control.” You tell him as you tie the strings against your hips. “But yeah, I mean, what if I wasn’t, right?”

“But you are?” He asks to be sure, and you nod back. You could visibly see the relief that washes over his face, but he’s still perplexed over the fact that he didn’t even try to pull out of you. He didn’t know what came over him, or how he had gotten so caught up in the moment that he completely disregarded the rules he always strictly follows.

“Alright.” He says as he places his hands on your hips, rubbing his thumbs over your skin gently.

“Come here.” He mumbles before he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you into him, holding you tight against his chest as he takes a moment to endure everything that his heart was feeling and his mind was thinking.

You laid your cheek against his shoulder and held him back, feeling his steady heartbeat thump against your chest.

Even though the two of you had just done so much more, that simple embrace felt like it was on the higher scales of intimacy. You didn’t know what exactly you expected, but it wasn’t to be wrapped up in his arms.

You felt your heart fluttering, and a doomed feeling eased it’s way in. You knew right then and there that you were going to be thinking about this man for far too long after you both inevitably say your goodbyes, and it was going to hurt worse than hell.

Thats when those thoughts started seeping in for you, and unknowingly to you, for him too. He was wondering what he should try to do to stay in touch with you, or if that was even something you wanted from him. He was thinking about how he probably just fucked himself thoroughly, because he had completely gave into his temptations that all revolved around you.

He doesn’t regret a moment, but he’s already dreading what it’s about to be like when you both leave.

He didn’t know how to go about anything else. He didn’t come there expecting to meet someone he had an instantaneous connection with like nobody he’d ever met before. He couldn’t help that he just wanted to hold onto you for as long as he could in the short time he and you both had left at that hotel.

But all those worrisome thoughts suddenly vanished when you pulled yourself up and looked into his eyes. All he was focused on then, was you. And undoubtedly it would probably be that way from there on out.

“Tyler” you whispered his name in a different way. A way that made his stomach immediately drop. A way that sounded like regret to him.

“Yeah?” He swallowed thickly, doing his best not to let his rampant emotions get the better of him.

You shy away from his intense gaze and he wished you wouldn’t have done that. He dips his head to catch your eyes again and hopes you’ll hold it.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice suddenly softer, a little shakier, even.

You were afraid to say what you were thinking, as was he. You knew things were happening so fast that it was almost impossible to process it all, but the only thing you knew for certain was that there was no solid ending in sight for what that night had mounted into.

“I just-“ You began, but you found it so hard to muster the words when he was staring at you with so much intensity, so much underlying emotion that he didn’t know how to hide.

“I don’t know what you expect out of this, or if you even expect anything at all… but I don’t know how well I can take it if we leave here and I just never hear from you again.” You admitted, only due to the liquid courage and little bouts of confidence from your previous moments shared together.

His lips parted but he didn’t speak. He realized then that everything he was feeling, was everything you were feeling, and it took him by surprise to say the very least.

“I’ve never been a one night stand type of girl.” You tell him, shrugging your shoulder. “And I don’t ever want to be that. I’m not asking for a relationship with you, or any kind of commitment, but just- I don’t know if I could handle it if you just ghosted me after all of this.”

He held onto every last word you said. He wasn’t completely sure what to say back, because he could tell that you were far better than he could ever dream of being when it comes to expressing your thoughts and your emotions, but he relied more on actions than anything else.

He slipped his ring off of his finger from behind your back and held it out for you. You glanced down at it, brows knitting in confusion before you looked back into his eyes.

“Can you hold onto this for me?” He asks, holding that silver ring between two fingers. “I’ll keep coming back for it, as long as you have it.”

You felt your lips slip up into and effortless smile that brought one to his face too. You took the ring and slid it down two different fingers, but it was too big for either of them, so you reached up and unclasped the necklace you always wore, one that your mom gifted to you years and years ago, and slid the chain through the ring before you clasped it back around your neck.

Tyler stared at it as it sat perfectly against your chest. It was almost like you accepting that ring was the solid reassurance he needed.

“I can’t promise you much. The life I live right now doesn’t really allow time for me to have relationships or, anything at all, really. But I promise that as long as you’re wearing my ring around your neck like that, I’ll keep coming back.”

You nodded, holding out your pinky finger to really seal the deal. He glanced down and let a boyish grin slip across his lips before he wrapped his own pinky around yours and shook it.

“Cross my heart.” he says, staring deep into your eyes to insure that you hear and believe him.

“And as long as you keep coming back, i’ll be wearing this ring around my neck. Cross mine.” You tell him before your pinkies unlock and your lips do instead.

———-

#hook aew #hook aew fic #hook aew angst #hook aew fluff #hook aew imagines #aew hook #tyler senerchia #hook x reader #hook imagine #hook nation rise

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faeriekit · 10 months

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Health and Hybrids (V)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and this is part five💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Batman had a meeting! Danny acquired age appropriate enrichment toys. All is well. You know. Except for the everything else. But it’s fine and MM is on his way so it’ll all be great soon for sure! :)

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

One…Morning? Evening?

Well. One day, Danny rediscovers his tongue.

Most of the muscle is there. Things taste better after he remembers how to taste.

(If everything tastes like iron, well…Danny tries to ignore that.)

Its main function is social. When Danny needs the quiet humans he can’t see to Shut Up or Go Away!, it is now within his power to blow a raspberry.

A slightly bloody raspberry. But still! A success! And when the fuzzy red human buzzes and whines about scaring them off, Danny blows it one too.

If all it does is make the human cry more, hey. That’s not Danny’s business.

The buzzy human comes back with its friends, with fresh sheets, spilling nervousembaras!sednervous all over the room.

Blech. Danny saves himself the trouble and phases through his bed and through the floor below. He does not need to be grabbed again.

He has more energy than he used to. It gets him farther than he’s used to; by the time he finds and works his way through an apple, a pear, and a whole plate of chicken wings, he’s still not sleepy.

…Huh. He rolls over underneath his usual haunt: a conference table. He isn’t feeling the urge to drop into his core. He’s achy, sure, and his limbs hurt and his mouth hurts from eating and he can’t see, but also…

Is Danny bored? Is he finally well enough to be bored of being sick and injured?? That’s. Is that progress? Is it…regression??

Danny sulks under his conference table (his now) with a pile of chicken bones and a few stems and doesn’t know what to do.

If he goes back to his bed…will the sheets already be done? Will people be waiting to get him? Did he lose his…ugh, he doesn’t want to think of them as toys. His…enrichment? Educational tools?

…Okay they might be toys. Whatever. When Danny feels better, he’ll grab something more age appropriate. Maybe he’ll get them from his—

Danny flinches.

…From his house.

If he can get there.

Whatever. He doesn’t want to think about that right now. He wants to figure out how to get rid of his trash without revealing his location. Or leave his conference table shelter.

Danny drums his claws against the low-pile carpet that stretches below him. Should he stay? Rest up? Wait for the threats to his admittedly-kinda-pathetic territory to leave? Should he…go get more food? Should he explore more? He feels all kinds of sore and tired but his head mostly feels clear. Maybe if he—

There’s a hissing noise. Danny bristles. He hisses in like, but—oh. It’s a door.

…Oh. It’s the door.

Uh oh. That’s um. That’s.

Uh oh.

Danny quickly pretends that he hadn’t hissed. He invisibly pushes the top of his head through the thick wood of the conference table. They shouldn’t be able to see anything if he peeks.

Well. Unless they can? But if they can, that’s. Uh. That’s a whole new problem.

Several tall, colorful, adult humans walk into the room. He can’t quite tell how many. Just a bunch. And they’re tall. But hey, they’re color coordinated for easier determination, at least.

Danny lowers himself back down through the table. Should he leave? Will they see him if he tries to leave? Can they spot him?

He sits and worries and he dithers as the humans slowly surround the table and the hidden ghost underneath. Should he…should he go through the floor? Will they know he’s there? Is it even safe to get back to his cot yet?

Feet start appearing underneath the table. Danny shies away from them. He pulls his chicken bones away from them too; if they step on one, they might notice him.

Then everything gets quiet. There’s only one quiet, droning voice.

So maybe Danny peeks again.

There’s a giant shadow at the front. It’s probably human. It has black arms and black legs and a patch of what is probably skin in his very fuzzy vision. It stands beside a lit screen.

Danny squints.

…Oh. He can’t quite tell what it’s about, or what’s exactly is being shown on the screen, but he knows what a powerpoint presentation is supposed to look like: a person, a lot of talking, a screen, and a lot of people listening. They’re just…talking. They’re not even talking about Danny.

Okay. He’ll rest under the table. It seems…safe enough for now.

It’s better to listen to human heartbeats and breathing in a room than it is to sit in his silent one, waiting for some new horror to break the everpresent quiet. Danny lays on his belly, nose to the carpet, and counts how many feet are under the table. (There are sixteen feet.) Some humans are wearing real shoes, with inch-thick soles of hard rubber at the bottom. Some are wearing things that look like shoes, but are too flexible, with soft soles that bend and curl as they flex under the table. Very few of them have laces or fixtures. Huh.

A wrapper falls. Danny watches the ball of foil flutter to the floor, at peace with his position, tired of inspecting shoes. And then a face pops down.

Danny freezes. (It’s not the smartest move.)

The face that popped down probably sees him back, considering how still it goes. And then, very slowly, so slowly, a hand reaches down. Danny flinches back, and—

…It grabs the wrapper. The adult carefully gets back up. The face disappears.

Danny doesn’t move. Danny doesn’t leave. Danny doesn’t breathe.

He waits. The human slowly goes back to tapping its toes, wiggling in its seat—and vibrating, in a way that says bored/bored/bored the way the younger human sometimes does.

…No one says anything. No one does anything. No one jumps under the table to get him, there isn’t a break in the speaker that indicates identifying Danny as Present, or as A Problem. Danny is simply…hidden.

He should leave. It would be smart to leave. Danny would be safer if he left.

But also.

Maybe.

This might be the first time he’s been so close to humans in so long.

They don’t know he’s here. It should be…safe. If he just. Listens to the indistinct sound of human voices. Let them wash over him, like a radio left on in the other room.

Danny’s sated. He’s achy. He’s bored. He’s sad. He’s lonely.

…He stays.

He doesn’t notice his humming or the quiet purr in his chest before the hand comes back down again. Danny flinches away from it, the hum guttering to a stop where it had laid.

There’s something about its hand. The hand came down, before, but now there’s something more to it. Another color—a darker color. It’s hard to tell in the shadow underneath the desk. Maybe a—green? A blue? Maybe?

The hand shifts, just a little. And then the thing comes flying at him. Danny jolts backwards, digging his claws into the mere millimeters of carpeting underneath him, and—

Oh. The thing isn’t moving. It hasn’t even exploded.

Danny reaches out a hand. Taps it, gently. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t attack him. It doesn’t excrete anything acidic or bite him. He sniffs it, just to be doubly sure, and nope. It smells like plastic. The wrapper crunches under his hands, even when everything sounds mute and muffled. The noise is borderline imaginary, so Danny can’t exactly tell what it sounds like when he plays with the little plastic flaps.

He can tell what it is now, though. The food bar goes down whole, wrapper and all, into his gullet.

Nice. The outside tastes bad, of course, but it’s nice.

The hand goes away, and no one bothers Danny. It’s nice. There are voices, but they aren’t yelling. They aren’t mean to him. They aren’t talking about what his insides look like or how bad he is or how to take more pieces off of him.

…Danny’s core thrums evenly. Peacefully. Maybe he will want that nap after all. His body gets kind of grouchy when it comes to plastic. He can pretend that it isn’t grumpy with his improvised diet with a nap.

Danny curls up on the floor, core beating along with the quick and even taptaptaptaptap fluttering of a too-quick human heart, and settles in for a quiet one.

(When he wakes up again, no one is around to see him throw out his chicken bones in the tiny trash receptacle by the doorway.)

(His toys and new sheets are all there when Danny gets back to his cot.)

(He’s too relieved to do anything but take a second nap.)

“So,” Wally tries, leaning against the wall. “The… Alien? Extraterrestrial?”

Barry shrugs. Fishes a cheeto out of his bag. “Bart’s been calling it a ghoul. They crashed half a mile off the Kent farm a little after you popped out of the Speedforce; there’s a huge chance something happened to them as part of the temporal anomaly.”

“Happened as in…?”

“Yeah.” Barry takes another cheeto. “Bad.”

And theeeere is the visible guilt. There isn’t exactly any great way for Wally to feel after his unintentional resurrection led to an unintentional…something else.

“…Ah.”

Barry shrugs. There isn’t anything they can do about it; short of rewinding time and shoving Wally back into the Speedforce, which has been shoved off the table with a great deal of force by all of the man’s former teammates, there’s no way to undo the accident that landed the poor alien smacking straight into good-old-fashioned American dirt.

“Don’t worry about the way it happened. It wasn’t your fault, and it sure wasn’t intentional on your part,” Barry points out, and offers the bag of Cheetos towards Wally. The snack is gone in microseconds. The curse of speedsters is really footing the bill of all their emotional eating.

“So, they’re…do we know what they are? Because they definitely shapeshifted fangs as soon as I found their little—whatever that is. Container? Unit? Under the table.” Wally traces the vague shape of the thing’s cerulean heart in the air. “One second I was holding a glass paperweight, and the next I was on the opposite end of a very angry shadow-snake. I think they would have done worse than bit me if it hadn’t had a clear escape route out of there.”

Barry balls the empty bag and shoves it into a pocket. If he litters in the Watchtower, it’s going to be water cooler gossip for years. Bats would never let anyone defile his super cool, super-secret base with garbage without his own form of petty revenge. “Medical says it likely serves as an organ for him,” he says instead, since monologue about how inconvenient it is to be held responsible for his own actions wouldn’t be professional. “So. Think of it less as a container; think of it more as a turtle shell. Medical is pretty sure it’s a part of their body. Messing with it would really hurt them.”

“Yeowch.”

“Mmhmm. One micro-sec.” Barry darts out and away from his nephew; he just remembered he has bottled smoothies in his room. In the time it takes him to fetch two from his mini-fridge—one of his favorite flavor and one of Wally’s—and circle back, the dust motes in the air have hardly even realized he’s gone. They hardly drift even upon his return. “Here.”

Wally catches it easily. To anyone else, Barry would barely have blinked away. To any other Speedster…Barry knows intimately how lethargic and thick time feels against his skull. Slowing down to a mortal, human speed can feel maddening. Sore. Viscerally and bone-shatteringly wrong in his skin, maybe.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Barry would do that and more for his family.

They drink their smoothies.

“You know,” Barry breaks back in, the thoughts of their previous conversation looming lightly in his mind, “Medical says that the fact that we sometimes see their—let’s call it a core—is really, really bad. It’s not a shock that they’re hiding. It would be like climbing in a closet when you’re so vulnerable that you don’t feel like you can defend yourself.”

The rim of Wally’s smoothie bottle drops from his lips. The man frowns. “Oh?”

Barry shrugs. “Imagine losing your skull so that your brain is exposed all the time. Imagine being a cell and having your cell wall break so your nucleus is exposed?”

They both wince at the image.

“Oh boy. And Bart is…playing? With that entity?”

His uncle snorts. “You tell me. I think you’ve seen more of them than I have at the moment. All I did was catch them hanging out in a conference room. I have to admit, the purring can get a little loud in the…” he makes a vague gesture that could mean anything from room to atmosphere to Speedforce.

Wally’s been mostly of the same mind—the physics of the entity, whatever they are, aren’t specifically third-dimensional. It might be related to how they only sometimes manifest, or how they manifest with only partial corporeality.

“It’s been at least some play and some games for him, I’m sure,” Wally admits, a smile pulling at his mouth nevertheless. “I spotted him going through a stim toy website before he suddenly and mysteriously had a mission on the other side of the planet. But I think most of his concern is the…”

Wally winces at the thought of the myriad of medical issues the entity’s faced since his arrival to Earth. Barry’s wince stretches to match. They both saw the report.

“…So it’s been a lot of food on Bart’s part. A lot of managing his care of them too; Superboy and Rob aren’t the most straightforward team in the world, but I think they’re largely keeping Bart in check on this one— not that they’re on base as much as Bart is.”

Wally smiles. It’s not a very happy smile, or very relieved of his earlier guilt, but it’s a smile nevertheless. That’s fine. Barry’ll work on the rest on Sunday; they’re due for a good luncheon out somewhere nice. Their JLA-approved food budget can foot the bill. Maybe…Indian? There’s got to be good food in Delhi they haven’t tried yet.

“At least J’onn’s back on base next week.” Wally sighs, crooked and a little weary. “Maybe this will finally get them to stop running every time someone gets within forty feet of them. Like, they realize they’re losing vital fluids, right? Wait, is Bart even giving them any water?”

“…I’m going to hold off on that worrying thought. I have a different one I’m sweating over. Do we even know if Bart will let our resident telepath get within forty feet of his new playmate?”

Wally groans, face in his hands. Barry can’t help but laugh a little—perhaps tinged with desperation.

Sidekicks. Always with the new problems. At least last time they had this problem, Kon could talk.

#The speedster clan is all here baby #and they are all Deeply Concerned #how they show their concern varies. But hey! They Care #and Caring is what matters :)#Bart Wally and Barry: hey can we get this one before Bats can? Yeah. Yeah! Let's try it #health and hybrids #Danny Phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dcu crossover #faer fic #tw body horror #tw gore #tw medical #cryptid!au #spooky lad

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yuri-is-online · 6 months

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Jade would be VERY pleased about finally having another club member. I would be happy to listen to him info dump while we look at mushrooms and neat nature stuff.

I let this sit in my ask box for too long but I've had this idea kicking around in my head for a while and then harveston had to go and drop that one line validating my delusions and you've given me an excuse to post it ha

notes: they/them used for Yuu, violence against animals (a bear), swearing at animals (the same bear), Yuu is unnaturally strong (enough to fight a bear), Yuu is implied to have grown up in a forest/woodsy environment, Jade typical blackmail. Other more serious fic can be found on my masterlist here.

Once upon a time, back when you first arrived in this world, you had been unsure how to feel about NRC. Castles existed back home, sure, but ones like this belonged firmly in illustrations or video games; it felt a but nauseating to walk through your wildest dreams brought to life, even if it was exciting sometimes. It was little wonder to you then that the idea of a Mountain Lover's Club was so appealing.

"Did you hike a lot back home?" Trey has that strange smile on his face that suggests you have made him tense somehow.

"Yes. I practically grew up in the woods." The flow of wind through the branches, the smell of fresh rain on the decomposing earth below, all of it wrapped you in a familiar sense of serenity even if the tree line was completely foreign to you. What are men to rocks and mountains after all? You could make yourself right at home here-

"I still don't think you should join." Trey says with all the air of a man who is certainly not telling you something, but the surprising harsh nod of agreement Riddle gives before injecting himself into the conversation convinces you more than whatever Trey had in mind likely could.

"I'm not entirely certain what they do," Riddle has never forbid you from participating in things since you and his dorm-mates brought him back to his senses," but if you want to hike it might be safer if you did it by yourself, assuming you let one of us know when you are going and when you expect to be back. It wouldn't do to have something that brings you so much joy used against you prefect, none of us want that." But he has always expressed concern when he thinks things to be unsafe, and in this case his argument was something you found yourself agreeing with. Hiking is best done at your own pace anyway, why get a club full of self-centered assholes involved in your me time? Though you did wish now they had been a bit more... specific with their concerns. Maybe outlined some of the club's scheduling, but then they would have needed to ask him and in so doing betrayed your interest.

Which would have been much less embarrassing than how Jade actually found out. Because of course he did, was there ever any doubt he would? ~~~~ There is a creek not far up the mountain path behind your dorm you like to rest at when coming back from your adventures. It's a good place to check over the photos on your camera and enjoy the last few rays of sunlight before returning to whatever mess Grim had made in Ramshackle searching for where you had moved all the tuna cans. Sometimes he joined you, and the two of you would have a little picnic up the path a bit further, but that day had not been one of those days. Nor had the day you met this particular nemesis who is staring you down from just across the creek with such a judgmental glance you would think this was a Sunday brunch and not an afternoon meander through the forest.

"The fuck do you want bitch?" You snarl and the bear indignantly sniffs as if to imply she's better than you. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't realize it was my fault your face is so fucking crooked, thought you were just born that way." She huffs again, making a big show of turning her back on you as you rush to get your equipment off and tucked safely out of reach before the skankiest grizzly you've ever met whips around and charges you shrieking something about "how dare you steal her man!!!!" and blah blah blah "I'll show you, you good for nothing hussy!!!!" as if you could actually understand her and this wasn't a three act play you insisted on writing yourself. You weren't even sure this bear was a girl if you stopped to think about it in between punches, not that you really cared. She huffs and makes a valiant attempt to pin you as you snarl and flash your teeth and beat her right back into the creek laughing at what sounds like pathetic winging about "kids these days!!!" and how rude you are for-

A startled noise pauses your match, as you both turn, harsh glares towards a break in the thicket where a very out of place, very surprised looking man stands, hand infuriatingly poised casually at his chin. His infuriating smirk doesn't unfurl until you growl, deep and low reverberating through your opponent just enough that she decides to leave for the day while you are preoccupied.

"Oya, this is a surprise." Jade doesn't move and you stay firm in the creek, body shaking with unspent adrenaline as he decides to move just a bit closer. "If you were that desperate for a sparring partner, I'm sure Floyd would have obliged, animal abuse is not exactly legal you know?"

"What the fuck are you doing here." You spit before you exit the creek, a flash of something darting through Jade's eyes as his gaze darts between you and your pack on the ground.

"Me? I should be asking that of you. The Mountain Lover's Club had to go through quite an ordeal to get permission to leave the school grounds unsupervised..." His teeth begin to show as you crash down from your high, you hadn't actually thought of whether or not you would need to talk to someone other than a friend about where you were going... surely Riddle would have mentioned something if you did? Or did he not think to ask since he wasn't the adventurous sort? "I can't imagine how the Headmage would react to know his ward had been sneaking out to terrorize the local wildlife."

"Hey Brenda started it!" You snap and Jade looks briefly towards the treeline where a very indignant bear is pursing her lips and inspecting her claws, the very picture of innocence if he does say so himself. "She stole my sandwich while I was taking pictures of the sunset!"

"Maybe you should have had someone there to hold it for you." He laughs, finally moving from his spot towards you and your pack, eyes gleaming with familiarity as he looks over your things. "Perhaps, someone who would be willing to... forget about what he just saw if they accompanied him next time?" It's a threat using what gives you joy against you certainly, and you huff indignantly at it but don't deny his request. Jade is an eel of his word, and his joy at doubling the Mountain Lover's Club membership cannot be contained as he ushers you the rest of the way down the mountain, eager to plan your first expedition together.

Not that he intends to ever delete the pictures he took. Your angry face is just too cute.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #<3 asks #jade leech x yuu #jade: why yes my lockscreen is my partner fighting a bear #what do you mean yours can't do that? skill issue :/#idk this sucks just take it i needed to warm up before working on my longer stuff

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

THTH 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Ransom Drysdale

Summary: You have a secret, but what do you do when it threatens to come out.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Ugh, goddamn it,” you hiss as you reach your phone to the sky. The signal is shit around here. You watch the little circle, waiting for a check mark to appear; nothing.

Three days. The bandwidth has been in and out for three days and you haven’t been able to upload a single thing. Not even a message. This is dumb. You growl at your phone and toss it on your bed. It bounces and hits the wall.

You huff and cross your arms. It’s not fair. Those three days could’ve made you money. You can’t even leech off the library wifi because of the content filters. So ridiculous. You’re just trying to make a living.

A tap comes at the door and you flinch. You quickly scoop up your phone and go to the door. You tuck it in your back pocket and pull your shirt down to cover the top. You open the door and peek out at your mom.

“Everything okay?” She asks.

“Uh, yep, just dropped something.”

“Oh, nothing broke, I hope.”

“All good,” you smile. She chews her lip anxiously, as she often does. “I’ll be down for dinner soon. Smells good.”

“Alright,” she says, “it’s almost done. Your favourite; spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Mmm, awesome.”

You shut the door and roll your eyes. Spaghetti isn’t your favourite. It’s what she says is your favourite. Just like everything else, it has to fit within her rules. If she says you like yellow, well then, you like yellow. It isn’t worth the argument to have a personality.

You take out the phone again. You nearly squeal as the check mark turns green. It sent! Just a text post notifying your few followers of the unexpected technical difficulties. You’ll be fortunate if they don’t bleed off to the other girls. When there’s so much variety, you can’t expect horny men not to hop on the next page with a pretty girl in lacy underwear…or less.

You scroll down but the rest of the posts show the blank blocks, pulsing as they struggle to load. You check the menu. Signal’s gone again. Welp, at least that went through.

You go to your bed and hide your phone under the mattress. Your parents know about your laptop, that’s your alibi. You tell them you do transcription work online. That doesn’t pay enough so you have the secret phone for your real business; you.

It isn’t exactly a career but it’s a means to an end. You’ll save up enough and be out of Hammer Ford in no time. You’re almost twenty and running out of time. A gap year is expected, but two? That’s sad.

Besides, you’re done with this life. You need out of this house. You are an adult. Your parents can’t make you eat your peas or ban you from the romance section in the library. One day, hopefully soon, you’ll be free.

For now, you’re going to go downstairs and pretend your mother’s spaghetti and meatballs isn’t complete mush.

📱

Days pass as you stare helplessly at the flashing bars in the corner of your phone. Damn phone company. The data plan was supposed to be a backup, even if you could only afford the cheapest vendor on the market. You at least thought it would work!

You manage to get a decent signal up on Thunder Lane by the hotel. It might be worth it to just walk in and get their wifi. You don’t think they’d care much. There aren’t many guests passing through now, are there?

The only benefit of your forced break is how much time it gave you to create new content. You choose the set of photos you took with the bunny ears and the barely there white teddy. You quickly flick through the settings and set the paywall. At least you’ll have money coming in before…

Yep, no internet. You’re lucky even that went through. You roll your eyes and hop back in the family oldsmobile. Your mother doesn’t let you have it often but you told her you were going for coffee and would fill up the tank.

As you roll up to the sleepy main row of Hammer Ford, your phone vibes. You quickly put it back to silent and check the notification. Your data’s flickering as you see the first response to your post. That was quick. Turns out someone did miss you.

_ransom_ware commented: ‘welcome back, bunny’.

You tap on the bubble but the app won’t load. Damnit! At least you have automatic deposit enabled. His tip will hit your account in a couple days.

You get out of the car and cross the street to the bakery. You could butter your mom up with some tarts, maybe convince her to let you take the car into the city. That might be your best chance at catching up. You could schedule posts and not have to fight with the damn countryside desolation.

As you enter the bakery, it’s quiet. There’s one person at a table. You don’t recognise him. He has his back to you so you don’t think much of it. Probably just another lumber worker sating their repressed sweet tooth. Although, he is dressed a bit too nice for that. No plaid or denim? Huh.

You go up to the counter and order a half-dozen cherry tarts and a latte. You pay with the secret credit card you use for your online transactions and thank the girl behind the counter. As you turn, you find the man at the table turned in his seat. He glances at you as you carry out the tray of tarts and coffee.

You’re used to the stares. The men in Hammer Ford aren’t exactly subtle and your nights at The Horn have earned you a reputation, though those stories don’t make it past your front door. It’s just a little fun, you have a pint and tie your shirt above your belly button and dance. Nothing serious.

Your mom and dad are too chaste and pious to ever wander into the bar. It’s your escape, your safe space. Just for now. Just until you can get out of this hell hole.

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #drabble #series #au #backwoods au #thth #knives out

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 3 months

Text

Morning Things (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: It’s another morning in Eddie’s room, just a slice of peace before you have to face the world.

AN: Found an old Eddie fic in my OneDrive back when I still fancied him/liked Stranger Things lmaoo, might as well post it.

Reader is gender neutral, no use of Y/N.

Masterlist

You didn’t realise that you were being greedy when you first woke up. As you rolled over to your back, you found your body was bundled up in the double duvet, which you sent sprawling out as your legs and arms stretched out across the span of the boxspring bed. A distinct dip cradled your head, between the two pillows that assigned sides to you and your boyfriend. Cracking open your eyes revealed the ceiling - the only dull wall in this room.

It was like rolling to see the posters popping off their paper roused your other senses. You felt the entire duvet around you with no tug of war from Eddie to retrieve his fair share. No contact was made no matter where your hands reached.

The twang of a beloved electric guitar caught your ears. No amp powering its usual timbre, its strings pinged against Eddie’s calloused fingertips before pausing. The man was down to his boxers, his instrument balanced across a bare thigh, and a sleeveless shirt hung off his shoulders to expose most of his tattoos to the break of dawn. Eddie placed his pick between his lips, swapping it with the pen already in there so he could scribble in his song book in front of him. He hummed the tune as he scribbled. He began mumbling then some semblance of lyrics emerged through half-closed lips before he flipped back to his pick to strum again. Once he’d repeated the tune, he experimented with a new sequence but winced, shaking his head with his mop of hair following behind.

Groggily, you managed to say, “Morning.”

The second Eddie laid his eyes on you, he dropped the pen from between his teeth, threw off his guitar, and dropped his pick onto his open song book.

“Oh, I was enjoying that,” you complained pathetically.

Completely disregarding what you said as he crawled over you, Eddie’s nose nudged up against yours.

“Good morning, sweet thing,” he grinned whilst he balanced over you.

After stretching up, you rested your arms around his neck and anchored Eddie into the bed, half laying atop you.

“What were you playing?” You sighed against his neck.

“Just mucking around, throwing some bits I’ve been thinking of together. Seeing if they mesh.”

“And do they?”

“They’re starting to align.” Eddie rolled over onto his back, bringing you with him as he gestured above you, “I gotta encourage them to get their shit together a little more before I can show you.”

“Can’t fucking wait,” you said into the ticklish tips of his curls.

Eddie kissed the crown of your head, “You gonna get up?”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“You inspire me no matter where you are. From lying here in my bed,” He waved grandly to wear his feet almost hung off the end, “To perched at the end of it.” You let out a close-mouthed giggle, invoking Eddie to do the same and allow those dimples to peep out of his cheeks, his hand crossing behind your back and squeezing you as he said, “So, you got places to be?”

“Nowhere but next to you.”

“Does that include the bathroom?”

“You wanna shower together again, after what happened last time?”

“I was thinking more like pooping together.”

Hiding in his neck again, you groaned, “Eddie.”

“I feel like we’re at that stage in our relationship.”

“Nothing like communal shitting to inspire your next big hit, I guess,” and you pushed up a little, “Wanna stay here a bit longer first.” To sweeten the deal, you squashed his left cheek with your lips, smacking them loudly when you slumped back down into him.

Accepting the bribe, Eddie tightened his grip around you and said serenely, “I can make time for that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #my writing #wc: <1k+#r: gn

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joels-shitty-puns · 8 months

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The Key To Your Heart - Track 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.8K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

I had a real rough time figuring out the proper voice for Pedro's dialogue and I hope I did him justice. Either way, the support I received for part 1 is astounding and completely unexpected! Thank you all for reading and let me know what you think :) I plan to continue until the story wraps up, but I don't know how many parts that will be. I hope to post every couple days, but with my work schedule it may be less speedy. Here we go!

You walk in the door, unclipping Skip's leash, slipping off your shoes, and dropping your keys on the countertop before flopping onto the couch and unlocking your phone. No. Fucking. Way.

Pedro Pascal (pascalispunk) replied to your message.

You dissected each letter of the username, assuming it couldn't possibly be THE Pedro Pascal… but it was. It really, really was. You clicked the message, holding your breath.

Pedro Pascal replied to you: "Hey, you don't need to thank me. I didn't say anything that wasn't true. That guy was out of line. You deserve happiness and I'm sorry for the harsh words you've been hearing. I appreciate you sharing your vulnerability with the world and hope that you will continue to be your genuine self and ignore the comments trying to make you be someone else. Don't listen to those people."

You stared in disbelief at his words, once again wondering why he would ever be so kind to someone he doesn't even know. Someone so childish and stupid to write a song about a man she doesn't know. I can't imagine he'd think these things if he knew it was about him…

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I'm a big fan of yours and hearing that you're in my corner has me completely at a loss. I can't imagine why you would risk damaging your image by defending a girl…" No… don't say girl, it makes you sound like a child. You want this guy to like you! You backspace with a slight feeling of ridiculousness over the whole scenario. Ugh it's all wrong… calm down... calm down… it's just a conversation. He doesn't know you. He doesn't like you. Don't make it weird like you always do.

You try again.

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I really admire your work and for you to say such kind things to me… to think that you're in my corner, has me completely at a loss for words. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment when you don't even know me, especially when coming to my defense could potentially harm your image… but thank you."

He read it almost immediately. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like you could throw up from the anxiety and adrenaline. After a few seconds, those stress-inducing dot-dot-dots appeared to show you he was typing.

He's actually replying to me?? Again? Doesn't he have better things to do?

Your mind wandered to what he might be doing while he's messaging you. Sitting at his home, relaxing, taking the time to reply to you? Why? Maybe he's on a plane or waiting for something and killing time. Maybe he's- *ping*

Pedro Pascal replied to your message:

"Please, you can call me Pedro.. and as far as defending you, it doesn't matter to me that we don't know each other personally. You seem like a woman with a good heart, and all you did was share your true self. Nobody deserves to be talked poorly about for something harmless that they feel. If something like that hurts my image… then my true self wasn't being represented. I think we all just want to be seen, and I hope that you will feel comfortable to be yourself and show yourself more."

You don't know when you started crying, but you hiccupped with the overwhelming wave of emotions. He sees me.. you had just scrolled to the bottom of the long reply, when you noticed the "..." of typing again. He has more to say?!

Pedro Pascal: "As far as the subject of your song.. whether you choose to reveal that to him, or the world, you deserve love and respect. Being vulnerable and putting yourself out there is a terrifying thing to do, and I myself tend to close myself off from relationships to avoid that potential for getting hurt. But if that's what you want, you've already taken a big step and you should go for it. I hope that whoever he is gives you the respect and love you deserve."

Holy crap…

He doesn't… he doesn't know it's him right?? No. There's no way. He's just being nice… he's too nice. He's too genuine..??

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, doing a little dance in the air, pondering what to say. How much can I share with this man? Between this crush and his kind words, it's feeling tricky to hold back from spilling too much information.

You: "Thank you Pedro. You're too kind and I can't properly explain how much I really appreciate it. I'm having trouble coming to terms with all the sudden attention, and finding it hard to ground myself. But your words are helping me a lot. I - "

You hesitated over your next words, wondering if you should open up or just leave it. Don't be weird… don't scare him away like you always have with everyone else. As much as you think of disclosing your hesitation and lack of experience with relationships, as well as your reasons for trepidation, you decide to spare him of your self-hatred. Instead, you delete that last letter and hit send.

Then you send another message, like he did. "And as far as the guy… I know I don't know him personally, we've never met, but I can already tell he would treat me right. I just hope maybe someday he will love me back."

Immediately after sending it you regretted it. That felt way too open and vulnerable. What are you thinking!?! Shit… what if he sees through you!?

You hold your finger down on the message, ready to hit unsend before he sees it. But it's too late. He's already replying.

Pedro: "He would be stupid not to love you back."

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

You: "Thank you, Pedro. 🥺" Play it cool… Play it cool…

Pedro: "Of course, sweetheart. Feel free to message me if anyone else gives you trouble or you just want to chat. I enjoyed talking with you."

???!!!!!?????!!!!! SweetheartSweetheartSweetheart

You grabbed your nearest pillow and screamed into it. "SKIPPPPPEERRRRRRR!!!!!! I JUST HAD A CONVERSATION WITH PEDRO AND IT WAS MAGICAL AND AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!" You squealed.

Skipper lifted his head at you and sighed before setting his head back down. He was no stranger to your shenanigans. Napping after a good walk was a better use of his energy than to deal with your drama. He closed his little brown eyes again.

You lay back on the couch, kicking your feet and squeezing your pillow to your body.

Fuck, this is going to hit me like a truck if it goes sour. If he even realizes it's about him, probably. Crap… what am I going to do?

The next day, you woke up and checked your emails before work. Thankfully nobody at your workplace has seemed to place your singing voice to your speaking voice, or pieced together the fact that several people know you have a crush on a certain celebrity and are a musician. Thank goodness. That’s the last thing you need.

You closed your eyes for a few minutes, trying to calm your breathing, your nerves, and your heart rate, before relaxing and shaking out your body. Finally, you decided to get ready for bed and see what tomorrow brings.

Your emails come in, one by one, with one intriguing email at the top, from a well known pop-culture show called The Jazz & Ally-Kat Show. They want to do an interview with you, live, as soon as possible.

Great. They probably just want to see what I look like or have me spill my guts about my crush. You roll your eyes, and you can’t help but feel like the Mandalorian with his lack of face reveals. If only you had a cute little space baby to accompany you. I guess Skip is my own precious cargo in a way, you think, while looking at your still sleeping pup. You're being silly… Not everything needs to relate back to Pedro, you think with a sigh to yourself.

Yet despite your anxiety, you agreed to their interview, with the exception that it was done as a podcast style interview, where simply your voices are featured. Surprisingly, they agreed. I guess everyone likes some drama, and what better way to get views than by having a little mystery.

The interview was scheduled for three days from then, and in the meantime you focused on work and your album, which was mostly finished after years of writing songs. All it needed was some editing.

As the days went by, you wanted desperately to message Pedro again. You wanted to tell him your feelings. Have him confess that he loves you too. Ask him about his family, his friends, his favorite things. Meet him, kiss him, fall in love, and finally be happy. But ultimately you knew that was silly. You had one little conversation, and although it was nice, you still didn't know each other. There was no way he loved you back. Yet…? you asked yourself, hopeful, almost asking for permission to let yourself try and earn his love.

Despite Instagram drawing you in like a magnet, you held back from messaging him. You didn't want to come on too strong. You messaged him first last time. He doesn't know you. Literally… he doesn't even know your real name, or what you look like. But maybe that's a good thing…

_____The day of the interview:_____

You woke up around 9:30 in the morning; nervous, slightly nauseated, restless, and jittery. Why did I agree to this??!

You decided to pass on the coffee this morning, figuring it would make things worse, and instead decided to take Skipper for a walk. After some fresh air followed by a refreshing shower, you looked at the clock. 11:30 AM. With the interview at 1PM, you still had some time to kill and sat down at the piano, letting your mind wander to Pedro while you plunked chords out with nimble fingers. I wonder if Pedro has ever wanted to learn any instruments… I could teach him, you daydream.

Your hands dance across the piano while he reads through a script in the other room, eyebrows furrowed as he highlights another line. You look up over the grand piano and see his soft brown curls blowing under the fan haphazardly. The sun is shining in through the window, which Skip bathes under, and reflects a golden brown undertone with gray streaks in Pedro's hair. He really is beautiful, you think. His tongue swipes across his lips as he makes notes and erases, before finally feeling your eyes on him. He glances up from the script, giving you a soft smile and a wink; with those chocolate brown eyes that frequently cause you to lose your train of thought. Your eyes drift down to the keys again, feeling a soft blush creep over your cheeks.

"That music sounds beautiful, baby.." he says softly while padding up to you behind the piano. He places his large hands on your shoulders, sweeping them down over both your arms before settling on your hands, still resting over the black and white keys. You look over your shoulder and he leans in, closing his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Just like that scene in Narcos… you think. Yikes, I really am obsessed… anyway… you think back to your daydream…

He sits down at the chair next to your piano bench, kissing your lips again gently, then the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and your jaw. Your stomach gives a wave of butterflies and you lean in more to kiss him deeper, tugging on his hair while his hands find the small of your back, gently running his palms up your spine. A chill overcomes you and he-

~Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.~

Fuck. You snap out of your fantasy and turn off the alarm you set to go off ten minutes before the interview. At least I gave myself time to use the restroom and wash my face, you think, hoping to clear your head a bit now that you're slightly frazzled.

Unfortunately the feeling that replaced it was nerves as you sat down at your desk, typing into your keyboard, turning on your mic, and hoping that Skipper doesn't throw a fit over the wind or something while you're on this call.

Jazz: "Hi there listeners! We're joined by the artist of the moment, our favorite lovesick lady, the singer responsible for "Imaginary Love!"

Both women on the other end of the call applaud.

Well… not sure I like being called a lovesick lady but what else did I expect, really?

You: "Thank you guys for having me, I appreciate you wanting to get to know me better."

Despite the rough start, the ladies turned out to be really respectful and fun. You think that if the circumstances were different, you could actually be friends with them. You discuss casual things like your dog, your favorite activities and favorite pop culture topics (careful to avoid mentioning Pedro or any other actor that could be perceived as your lyrical subject), and they even mention celebrity crushes they've had growing up.

At the mention of their celebrity crushes, you can feel the interview funnel into a dangerous alley with little to no escape. Jazz was the first to broach the subject. "So… we've just discussed our celebrity crushes, and I think I speak for all of us here when I say we're all very curious to know who-"

-an air horn blares-

What the hell is that? You wonder, both thankful for the interruption, yet startled by the disruption.

They both chime in: "Viewers!!! Do you all know what that sound is!?! We have reached 1 million listeners!!!!"

To say you were astounded is an understatement.

You: "You're kidding!? 1 million people are listening to us right now?"

Ally: "You bet they are! And listeners… I don't know about you guys… but I can't help but wonder if our celebrity heartthrob is one of those million?"

They turn their attention to you again. "What do you think? Think he's listening?"

You're thankful for the lack of a camera, because you can't help but blush at the thought. You'd be lying if you hadn't already considered (hoped) that he was listening too.

Jazz: "So as we were saying… I think we all are in agreement that we want to know who he is. You sound like a nice enough girl, so what's holding you back? You've made it. You can contact him now and he'll probably reply."

I already have… you thought with a smirk.

Jazz continues: "Which brings me to the next point... I know you've had a lot of attention lately. You were signed to a record company, you were contacted by us, you've been mentioned by a few talk shows and celebrities. Pedro Pascal even publicly defended you. The radio has been playing your song nonstop and people can't get enough. What do you think of all this attention?"

You: "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit surprised and maybe a little scared," you answered with a nervous laugh. "But I am so thankful for the kind words that I receive and I love hearing from people who can relate to my music."

Ally: "You've certainly received your fair share of criticism too. It sounds like you received that before your song was ever published as well."

You: "I have, and it's been challenging to try and not let it get me down. But I'm trying my best, and the positives seem to be greatly outweighing the negatives," you state, your mind thinking of Pedro and how his messages were really the only positive you needed to get you through the dark storm of criticism.

Ally: "I guess what I'm wondering is.. among all these people contacting you.. has he?"

You try to play dumb: "Has who?"

Both interviewers laugh before Ally continues. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Your stomach flipped. You were not expecting this question. Should you tell the truth??? It's not like they could know who has contacted you, short of hacking your account. You have had a lot of people contact you, after all.

You take a deep breath before answering. "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

They reply, and you can practically feel them leaning in. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

You consider your next move, your heart really working overtime since this whole thing started. Finally you decide your answer.

"Yes. We've talked."

Looking for Track 1? Read it here!

Next chapter: Here!

~Thanks for reading! Stay ~tuned~ for more!

Taglist: Let me know if you want in :)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x afab!reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x musician!reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x plus sized! reader #pedro pascal fic #A! wrote a fic #rpf #pedro pascal rpf #key to your heart

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ragnarokhound · 2 months

Note

((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))

“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞

From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa

anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)

Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence

15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”

When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed.

Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.

He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay?

But, uh. Let’s back up a little.

—

Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.

He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air.

Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.

So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.

With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.

"What's going on here?"

The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.

"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.

“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.

The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.

“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”

“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”

Tim stops in his tracks.

“Forty-eight—?”

“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”

Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive.

Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front.

Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.

It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.

Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—

And then Tim thinks about the call.

The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later.

He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.

“Today,” he repeats.

She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”

"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."

—

He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.

Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.

Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.

Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.

He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.

As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.

“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”

The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”

“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”

“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.

“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”

“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”

—

The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape.

He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.

He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.

By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.

“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”

He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this.

Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.

Fuck it.

He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.

Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’— which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.

Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.

He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.

Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—

And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.

“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”

He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.

—

Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.

See, here’s the thing.

The thing is, he has options.

He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down).

He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.

And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.

No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.

With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:

“Hand over your wallet!”

He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.

Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.

Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.

The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.

“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”

The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.

“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”

The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”

Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight.

His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.

“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”

“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.

Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.

“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”

Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.

“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.

Tim blinks. So do the muggers.

He knows that voice.

“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.

Everything happens pretty quickly after that.

Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.

Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes—

Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.

Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop.

So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.

Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.

“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”

Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.

Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”

Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.

Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.

“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.

Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.

“Yeah. Had.”

So much for the League, Tim muses.

Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror.

“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”

Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”

Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.

“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed.

God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way.

“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”

—

They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.

“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”

“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”

“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”

“Again. Fucking ew.”

“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”

“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”

Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”

Jason thwacks him upside the head.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”

“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”

“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.

Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”

Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.

“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”

Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.

Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.

“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”

Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”

Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.

“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”

“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”

The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.

Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.

“Jason—!”

“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”

“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”

“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”

“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.

“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”

The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.

“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”

Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.

Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.

“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”

“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.

“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.”

Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.

“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”

He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.

And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.

He knows, okay?

“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”

“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”

Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.

And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to.

But he still means it.

“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”

The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.

“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.

The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.

But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.

Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”

Jason’s grin is electric.

He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.

Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—

—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.

“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”

“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.

“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”

Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch.

The kiss is— bad. At first.

Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.

Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.

“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.

“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”

Tim is already asleep.

#one hundred thousand years have passed #i creak up out of the soil gasping and hacking and coughing #'i lived bitch'#'have some jaytim that grew legs on me'#my writing #asked and answered #jaytim #ladytauria #hurt/comfort #this one is sillier and more light-hearted than the other ones #the hurt is more like 'near tears travel exhaustion' than your typical aftermath of violence lol but it so definitely counts #i held a gun to the head of the muse that said 'this is way too short' and pulled the fucking trigger #i KNOW it's a very fast get together but i did Not want this to become my next 5 digit wordcount fic okay. okay. oka #the bones of a long 'tim and jason vs the league of assassins' fic is hiding here #and if i actually wrote that this would have ended much differently #but i am Not Writing That okay I am Writing Cowboys and also Werewolves Right Now. I Do Not Have Time For This!!!!!!#prompt fill

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softguarnere · 8 months

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hihi!!! i love your writing- i have been binging all your works over the past few days and can't wait to start on your oc fic :D

in the meantime, can i request a babe heffron hurt/comfort one-shot that ends with the reader and him falling asleep on each other's shoulders? thank you!

Inhale, Exhale

Babe Heffron x reader

A/N: Hi Anon! Awe, thanks so much 💕 I'm so glad you've enjoyed them, and I hope you'll enjoy lagalm as well! (And who knows? Maybe you can stick around for the Nixon x OFC fic that I'm about to start posting as well 🤭) Thank you so much for the request, and I hope you enjoy this! As always, this is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans! Warnings: mentions of war

Being inside again after so much time spent freezing in foxholes is a dramatic change of pace. The wooden pew of the church isn’t exactly a comfortable place to rest, but at least there’s a roof over your head, walls around you, candlelight, and more importantly, warmth.

Still, the old wood of the pew squeaks as you readjust your position on it, over and over again. You wince every time you hear the sound. Is it as loud to everyone else as it is to you? The chatter of men talking to each other in low voices is slowly starting to die down as more and more men turn their tired eyes to the group of women at the front of the church, letting their harmonies wash over them. Here and there, you can spot a few men leaning their heads on their hands, their eyelids drooping as sleep creeps in.

You un-wad the jacket you had been trying to use for a pillow and put it back on. If you can’t sleep on it, then it can at least keep you warm. Just because you can’t sleep doesn’t mean that everyone else has to stay up. You settle in, trying to find a position that’s comfortable and doesn’t make the creaking pew sing louder than the lullaby coming from the front of the church.

“Well, this doesn’t look comfortable at all.” The pew creaks as Babe plops down beside you. He surveys your position with furrowed brows. “You really gonna sleep like that, (Y/N)?”

Grunting, you push yourself back up so that you’re sitting. With new space available, Babe slides closer to you. “No. I don’t think I’ll sleep at all. I just didn’t want to bother anyone.”

“Only person you’re going to bother is yourself. Break your damn neck laying like that.”

“Not much else I can do,” you mutter. At least here you can stretch your legs. You didn’t get that luxury in Bastogne, all scrunched up in a foxhole almost every second of every day.

All around you, more and more men are dropping off. Only a few people are left sitting up, as most of them have leaned over, making beds out of the pews, or falling asleep slumped forward. Babe’s eyes rove over the scene, then flick to you.

“Aren’t you going to try to sleep?” he asks.

The thing is, you are tired. So, so tired. All you want to do is curl up under a warm blanket and let a blissful sleep overtake you. But it’s not just that you can’t get comfortable. It’s that you can’t fully relax here. You’ve been on alert so long that you aren’t sure you remember how to do that.

“I would if I could.” You shrug. “I don’t know. I might just keep watch.”

“I think the nuns have got that covered,” Babe notes, nodding toward a few of the nuns who stand scattered around the room, still as statues, watching over the sleeping men like silent protectors.

You sigh. Babe is right. So then why can’t you just go to sleep?

“Here.” Casually, Babe slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close to him. If he feels your posture go rigid with surprise, he has the decency not to point it out. The initial shock quickly wears off, and you allow yourself to relax against him, since that seems to be what he wants. “Let’s just take deep breaths,” he suggests.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know. Something my mom did for me when I couldn’t sleep as a kid. Just try to match my breathing.” Together, you take deep inhales, filling your lungs, and then exhale together. After a few cycles, you feel yourself relax ever so slightly. Your heart isn’t beating quite so fast, at least. You hadn’t even realized how elevated your heart rate was.

“Better?”

“Somewhat.”

“Good.”

“What now?”

Babe shrugs. “I don’t know. My mom used to tell me a story.”

“Well, then, tell me a story.”

He chuckles. “About what?”

You have to think for a minute. “You’re always talking about Philly. Tell me what it’s like there. Paint me a picture with words.”

“I don’t know about that last part, but I’ll try.” Babe clears his throat, suddenly a bit more serious, his voice soft as he starts describing the city that he loves. The way sunlight peaks through the fog on early mornings. The towering buildings. The friendly faces on the streets. Football games outside of his school. Watching the city begin to glow as dusk moves in, quickly followed by a night where the stars are all the lit-up windows twinkling everywhere you look.

At some point, your eyes flutter shut. You don’t bother to fight it. Part of you feels bad, though, because Babe sounds so happy describing his hometown, and you don’t want to miss any of it. You could stay like this forever, floating gently in the haze of oncoming sleep while vividly imagining the world he describes.

“Are you asleep?” Babe whispers.

You sigh, too far gone to answer. Part of you wants to tell him to keep going, but you can’t collect yourself enough to communicate. Instead, you feel your head drop over onto his shoulder. He’s warm. It feels nice, so you stay there.

“Goodnight,” you hear him whisper, and then, you drop off, safe with his arm around you and with his words to set the scene for beautiful dreams.

#babe heffron #babe heffron x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #my writing #hbo war fanfic #band of brothers

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atruththatyoudeny · 5 months

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Happy 28th! I wish I had more time to read this month, especially because I haven't read any of the advent fics yet but let me steer you to this wonderful post by @allwaswell16. It contains links to all the advent fics. Here are the fics I did read - and loved this month:

I'll Be Home For Christmas | lovelarry10 | [63k] Harry's life seems to be going well. He has a great job working at Festive Furnishings, he has an amazing three year old son called Danny, and his favourite time of the year is approaching. Just as Harry thinks everything is finally going to plan, he finds out that he is going to be losing his home just before Christmas. Louis Tomlinson is happy enough with his lot. He's the CEO of a company he started years ago, Festive Furnishings, he has great colleagues, especially his assistant Harry, and he has the best nephew in the world. But the thing is, Louis is lonely. He has a beautiful house but it's too quiet, especially at this time of year. Not that he'd admit that to anyone. While struggling to find somewhere warm and safe for himself and Danny to stay, Harry makes a decision that might just change the course of everything... and bring himself and Louis closer together as well...

And Now I Date Cate's Brother | sunflouwerhabit | [46k] “But what if you had a real relationship! What if you entered your Victorius era and wrote a banger about banging your best friend’s brother!” Louis blinked. Either his mind was working at half-speed or Niall was being especially stupid tonight. “I never banged my best friend’s brother.” “I know that and you know that. But we don’t always have to tell the truth when we write songs.” “You want me to write fanfiction about me and my high school crush?” Louis asked. The words were slow to form. “Like… actually?” “Why not?” Why not? Why not?!?! Because the idea was ridiculous, Louis wanted to say. Because he hadn’t seen Harry Styles in person in four years. Because Harry Styles was a stupid childhood crush- a popular, kind, stunning boy secretly adored by a quiet musician who felt every emotion so intensely he had to write them all down or they would suffocate him- and the two never shared much more beyond a game of cup pong and drunken conversations at a Halloween party a million years ago. Because… ~~~ A drunken writing session ends with a song detailing the fictitious summer romance between Louis and his former friend’s twin brother. It accidentally goes viral.

Bend the Rules | youreyesonlarry | [17k] Prompt 588: Lous hires a ‘ghost cooking’ service because his family is worried he’s not eating well and he wants to impress them by showing them what an amazing cook he’s become. The service includes sending a discreet cook to your house and have them get everything ready so that you only serve and take the credit. Problem is, his sisters (can be OCs if that’s more comfortable) get to his flat earlier than planned and the actual cook has to hide in the master bathroom for hours. Louis is mortified. The cook is amused and helps him to clean and well. Gives him a thorough service. Feel free to pick your fave as the cook.

Lucky (In Love) | Neondiamond | [3k] When Louis first volunteered to drop off his nephew Lucky at nursery to help out his nervous sister, he was not expecting the owner to be the most gorgeous man in all of London. He makes sure he’ll get to see him again.

silver dress feels like a cure | finelinegynandromorph | [10k] louis is a boudoir photographer and harry needs a little bit of a push to feel himself a little more. turns out they used to be rivals at a ballet company ten years ago. mutual thirsting ensues!

Hello, my name is Louis | tedtokat | [10k] Louis hurried to hang up the phone and take off his headset, throwing it away as if it was burning hot. He hugged himself by the shoulders and hid his face in his knees, sitting in his desk chair like a swimmer ready to dip into a pool, a pool of embarrassment. Not many people got past "Hello, my name is… " and even fewer engaged in a full conversation with him. And if they did, it usually went better than this. Prompt 148: Louis is a scam caller. Now this isn’t exactly the job of his dreams, but it pays well enough for him to continue doing it. Louis is a very anxious person, making it hard for him to talk, so he’s very shy when he inevitably scam calls Harry. Harry ignores the scamming, but after a certain number of calls, he’s had enough. Here ensues mean Harry at the beginning, sensitive Louis who doesn’t know what is going on half of the time, and if the author is up for it, autism-coded Louis too!

Two Night Stand | j_klmnop | [18] After an extremely regrettable one night stand, two strangers wake up to find themselves snowed in after sleeping through a blizzard that puts their entire city on ice. They're now trapped together in a tiny apartment, forced to get to know each other way more than any one night stand should.

Touch Me (Like Nobody Else Does) | goldensweetmemory | [11k] Prompt: A/B/O - strangers snowed in for an extended period of time and the omega starts to get touch-deprivation xx The alpha’s grin returned tenfold, deep dimples popping into his cheeks. Holy shit, he has dimples. “No, I don’t mind at all. I know where to find you when I need it back,” he said with a chuckle before leaning back into his seat. Louis let out a small giggle before nodding. “I’ll be sure it gets returned to you…?” He trailed off, one eyebrow raised at the other man. “Harry,” he replied, amusement still shining in his eyes. “And you are?” “Louis,” the omega responded before leaning back into his seat averting his eyes once again. “Thank you, really, for the charger. You’re a lifesaver. I’m not sure how I would’ve made it through without my Netflix.”

#28th appreciation #fic rec #monthly fic rec #my reads #monthly reads #larry fics #completed fics

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fountainpenguin · 15 days

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"No one lives forever~ Let's have a party; there's a full moon in the sky! It's the hour of the wolf and I don't wanna die..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 35 - “Incendiary (BigB, Skizz, Etho, Scott)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

BigB visits a tipsy Scar. Skizz does paperwork. Etho sobs on the floor. Scott gets something to eat.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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T-rated descriptions of BigB discussing cuddles with Ren

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bigbst4tz2 - Moth (Ex-Illusioner)

Status: Increasingly concerned

City inspector, private investigator, and town crier

🖤 🧡 💚

This is getting intense. It's pinching at his hearts. I need a better observation post. Thank Beef for the card shop, though- and its rooftop bar. It's not exactly a night of snuggling and macaroni, but Pearl's whisper over comm gave him a good excuse to duck out. He likes Ren. But Ren's… a lot. It's charming to see him playing with the young fox hybrids. Jimmy's presence helped soak some energy too; it's easier, see, to handle Ren in small doses or with a bigger group. But it's nice to stretch. He needs time with his own thoughts now and then.

BigB lands in a fwump of wings. Not many people are up here tonight. Yeah, card games don't tend to be an instinct programmed into mob behavior. This place will be busier come new moon night. Three people sit at the barstools, talking to someone that BigB barely glanced at. They look heavily modded. No full moon pulls for them. Scar's here too. After what he glimpsed when Scar was on the floor with Scott, he'd be more surprised if he wasn't. Didn't Martyn crash through his roof? Yikes.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks over his shoulder. Scar looks up. He's drinking alone tonight. Again, don't blame him. Heavier than usual for him, isn't it? Raw binary code sparkles in his shot glass. Scar's eyes glint off-green, all dim and hazy. His soul traits haven't sprung up, though his form seems to be a little loose around the shoulders.

"Hello, BigB! No, not at all- pull up a seat if you'd like. What's the word on the streets these days?"

BigB's antennae twitch forward. He climbs on top of a short block stack at the edge of the roof- the corner spot where the fence post railing connects. Yeah, this will work. It's easier to sit on than the posts themselves and he gets a decent view of Headquarters. Scar's just two tables over, within prox chat distance. BigB gets himself situated, flapping out his wings. He cracks open the eyespots to soak in as much area as he can. "Well… Impulse and Tango got some farms approved. They're only authorized to run it for short periods of time and they're on trial to prove they can follow through with the ethics requirements, but we might get renewable iron rolling in pretty soon. Dude, that would be a game-changer."

"Oh, really?" Scar takes another sip of his drink. His vex wings flutter at his shoulders. BigB doesn't need to turn around to see that. "You know, I've always wondered why we have glowing iron golems in this dimension, but not glowing iron. It really makes you think. What a quad- quandary."

"Hmm… I guess because it's a programmed drop, not a literal part of their body."

"True!"

What a day. One of the longest ones he's experienced in a while, seeing as he had check-in work in the morning, a full two weeks of recording, and city inspection work when he went offline. BigB yawns, thrumming his wings. But Pearl asked him to keep an eye on Scott, and Scott's definitely up to something. He snuck out a window. This should be interesting.

"BigB?"

"What?"

"Do you think Grian would like me more if I was a worm?"

He rolls one of his eyespots, trying not to show expression otherwise. "I'm sure Grian likes you fine." If this is some jab at soulmates and Double Life, it's not one he's up for tonight. Though that thought does wiggle beneath his exoskeleton and bite at every heart.

I bet Ren would like me more if I were a giant world-eating worm.

Maybe he would've been into that in a way he wasn't into a soft and fluffy moth who loitered in the corners of his eyes, following instructions instead of bossing him around. And as he thinks that, he pinches his brow and rubs up and down. Ren checked every box when they were soulmates. He flirted and flounced and nuzzled while living at Box…

… but Ren's into things that BigB was never going to be able to give him, like fangs and drool and razor-sharp claws. He embraced the roleplay. Pretended there was something there. They were cuddling shirtless every night. Even carroting sometimes, foreheads pressed and mouths soft as they huffed against each other's necks. Hands sliding, fingers tracing spiracles they could both feel, even though they were only legitimate on BigB's skin. Arms wrapped around each other. Backs arched as they whispered and chased that little lip of lust and trust.

"Oh no," Scar says softly, mostly to his drink. "He might not recognize me if I'm a worm. Do you think Cub still would?" Cub loves me, Scar adds in his mind. BigB can hear that, like he can hear everything, because of the way Scar's throat constricts on individual words. It's subtle, but he can. Because BigB always listens, and he picks up everything.

He flicks an antenna, but otherwise ignores this, lost in his own thoughts and the cold hand resting on his face. It's almost not fair, you know… how everyone in Double Life got paired with someone they could learn to love. Maybe had loved in the past. And he and Ren had golden history, twirling around each other like a moth chasing flames in 3rd Life and Last Life too.

But loving Ren is a loser's game from the start, if you aren't someone like Martyn who was born with spiny wings and lashing tail and fangs and drool and claws. Ren's a performer and very good when guiding partners through a rush of carrots, but he was never going to fall in love with BigB the way BigB tried to fall in love with him.

It's not like he didn't try. He cuddled too. He responded with what felt like enthusiasm every time Ren pulled him in, licking his cheeks and running hands down his sides. Pulling him down on the bed and into his arms. Day after day, week after week, he mirrored the motions and fell in love. Even when he knew it wasn't real. When he lay his head on Ren's rising, falling chest and gazed up at his sleepy, bristle-covered face.

Ren's such a rugged and handsome man, honestly. He loves working in the dirt. Maybe it's a dog thing. Maybe he just likes plants and tiny creatures in the soil. He's got the muscles of someone who rolls huge boulders aside just to take a peek at ants and worms. Maybe a fungus.

And he's beautiful, and he loves so much, and it's all too much sometimes (because it isn't real). So with wings whispering at his back… BigB rested his cheek and curled his fingers, biting bare skin, and asked him for the truth.

"If I mod in some ears and fangs and maybe a tail, would that do something for you?"

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

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amberlynnmurdock · 11 months

Text

Blind Faith

Chapter 3: Temperance

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Chapter Summary: You get private self-defense lessons from the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, who you call Mike now.

A/N: The POV switches a bit frequently in this chapter, between Matt and the reader. I tried to make it as clear as possible. Basically, if you see Matt's name when he's with the reader, it's from his POV. But if it's just described as "he" then it's the Reader's POV. Thanks to all for the kudos you've left on this so far <3 this fic is in its beginning stages but I am really excited to see it through. Enjoy! P.S. This entire series takes place after Season 3 of Daredevil, but Matt kept the black suit.

Chapter 2 here

Hell’s Kitchen

8:00 AM

You hated mornings.

You specifically hated mornings when you were hungover. Your phone alarm woke you up obnoxiously. Groaning, you slammed your finger on the button to shut it off, worried it might wake your friends.

The bright 8 AM sky of Hell’s Kitchen shone directly in your face. No amount of blankets covering your eyes could keep the darkness inside, and you forced yourself to wake up knowing your sleep was well over. You stretched in bed and reached for your phone again on your bedside table.

You scrolled through your notifications.

The Daily Bulletin posted a new article about new restaurants coming to Hell’s Kitchen this summer. You scrolled through mindlessly as you tried to stay awake. You had a few emails from professors, wishing you a happy graduation and good luck to prospective law students. You remembered your job searching app and that you had one new message from one of the firms you applied to.

Nelson and Murdock: 1 view, 1 new message.

You clicked open the message:

Hi __,

Thank you so much for applying to be our new legal assistant. Of all the applications we received, your resume stood out the most to us at Nelson & Murdock. We’d love to have you come in for an interview next week. Does Thursday at 4:00 PM work? We look forward to seeing you.

Sincerely,

Karen Page

Office Manager at Nelson & Murdock

You couldn’t help but smile at Ms. Page’s message. Finally! I get to have some experience working in the legal field before applying for Columbia Law.

You quickly typed out your message:

Dear Ms. Page,

Thank you so much for reaching out! Of course, I would love to come in for an interview. Thursday at 4:00 PM is perfect. Thanks so much for your consideration.

Regards,

___

You added the interview to your calendar and immediately texted your friends’ group chat the exciting news.

Hell’s Kitchen

8:30 PM

You wanted to go out with your friends, but you had other plans for tonight.

“I can’t believe __ is skipping out on tonight!” Hannah exclaimed as she was getting ready in the bathroom. You looked up from the LSAT book in your lap from the couch and mustered up the most convincing shrug.

“If I want to be a successful lawyer, I’ve got to get into law school first. Columbia, no less. That means studying for this Godforsaken test,” you held up the textbook in your hand and clumsily dropped it in your lap.

“Oh, you’ve got the whole summer to study,” Emily pried, dabbing her lipstick on.

“Better start now, then,” you retorted. The truth was, you were absolutely not going to get any studying done tonight. But it was unlike you to decline a night out with your friends, so you used the LSAT as your excuse. You had other plans… of course, if your savior decided to actually show. Who knows? Maybe vigilantes also played games like every guy you’ve ever met at NYU.

“Well, we’ll miss you,” Bella said as she walked out of her room. You smiled at her.

“The bright side is if you guys need me to pick you up, I’ll be sober to do so!” You tried to reason with them.

“True, though we may crash at Ben’s place. Depends how the night goes,” Hannah explained. You nodded, thinking that might be preferable, but you didn’t say so.

You waited patiently, hiding behind your textbook for your friends to leave for the night. Luckily, they decided to get dinner before going out. You would’ve been jealous had you actually needed to study, but the thought of seeing your savior was too exciting to be jealous about anything else.

As soon as they locked the door, you hopped up from the couch and changed out of your pajamas and into a relaxing outfit of leggings, a sports bra, and a hoodie.

It was 9:30—only thirty minutes until your secret meeting with the man in the mask on the rooftop of your apartment building.

Office of Nelson & Murdock

Earlier that day

“Okay, who’s ready to hit up Josie’s tonight?! Karen, Matt?” Foggy Nelson cheered as he slammed his hands on the conference table. Karen Page laughed in her seat as she leaned back in her chair. Her strawberry blonde hair was pushed to one side of her neck.

Matt Murdock suppressed a smile and paused the case file he was just listening to on his Orbit reader.

“I might be inclined,” Karen thought, leaning forward on her desk. “It would be nice to have a drink after coming in to work on a Saturday…”

“Oooh, yeah,” Foggy squinted his face, “sorry about that. I mean, it’s a good thing we’re getting a lot of clients but at the same time, we don’t have enough people here to talk to all of them,” Foggy explained. And then, he remembered something. “Hey, did that applicant ever reply to your message?”

“Oh!” Karen pointed a finger, “Let me check. Ahh, okay! Yes, wow, she did. Uhh, so she’ll be coming in for an interview next Thursday. I just calendared it.”

“Yes!” Foggy put his hands into fists. “Karen, I trust your judgment, unless you want Matt or I to sit in on the interview.”

“Either works. Whoever’s available, I guess,” Karen nodded.

“Cool. So, Josie’s tonight? Matt?”

Matt shook his head.

“I’ve got plans,” he simply said, a smirk on his face. Foggy rolled his eyes.

“Come on, man,” Foggy begged, “you can’t take one night off?”

“I—I can’t,” Matt answered, “I promise next time I’ll join you guys. But not tonight.”

Karen sighed. Matt knew neither of them was pleased with his nighttime activities as they called it, but they’d be happy to know that wasn’t entirely what he was up to tonight—then again, he’s not sure they’d be happy to hear what else he had planned. That was a secret he wouldn’t tell.

“Just let us know if you’ll need us, okay?” Karen asked. Matt nodded.

“Of course,” he said.

“Alright well, guess we’ll hit up Marci to join us,” Foggy suggested.

“Matt, we trust you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured them.

“Well then, I’m going to get a head start on Josie’s martinis. Karen, let’s get outta here.”

Hell’s Kitchen

10:00 PM

You stood by the edge of the rooftop, looking down at the people who walked the streets. You never came up here at all. Sometimes, you and your friends would take pictures up here, but that was it. Being up here alone felt different—it felt like a hideaway. There you were, watching as stores began to close, and bars began to open up. You could see the lights from Times Square in the distance. You shivered when a cool breeze passed.

And then you were startled by something—a thud, somewhere around the back of the rooftop access. You turned around in defense mode, waiting to confirm the identity of what the noise was.

Then, he appeared. Out of the black, into the soft light that reflected from midtown. His black shirt hugged him so tightly, you could see the outline of his muscles on his chest, his abs… his arms. His face was of course covered by the mask, but you saw his lips and the light stubble he had. His hands were wrapped in rope, like a boxer's. He wore black pants and boots to match.

“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” you decided to speak first as you walked toward him. You stopped after a few feet. The man in the mask walked toward the edge of the roof and sat on the edge, facing you.

“I keep my promises,” he replied. “It’s the Catholicism.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “you’re Catholic? And you act outside of the law? Seems like a subjective way of justifying things.”

“I don’t think about it too much,” he responded with a shrug. You eyed him suspiciously.

“So, before we begin,” you cleared your throat to keep the mood light, but truthfully he was making you nervous, for some reason. He had a smirk on his face you wanted to wipe off. “Why did you agree to come here and teach me how to defend myself?”

He was quiet for a few moments.

“You had a convincing argument, from what I remember,” he said.

“That can’t be enough to come out of your way and onto the rooftop of my apartment. Surely, you have more important things to do. So, why did you come? And don’t say it’s because of religion, because that’s bullshit.”

“Maybe I wanted to,” he returned. Your heart pounded when he said this. You were thankful it was dark out, or else he might’ve seen your blush. “And you know, it’s important you know how to defend yourself.”

“Hmm,” was all you said. You pressed your lips together. “Do you give all the girls you’ve saved before private self-defense lessons?”

He laughed. You liked how his laugh sounded.

“You’re my first student,” he said in a low voice.

“So, what should I call you? In my head, I’ve been calling you my savior.”

He smiled, then he got a bit serious.

“Call me Mike,” Mike said.

“Well then, Mike,” you walked closer to him so you were no more than a foot away. You crossed your arms and tilted your head. “I’m a quick learner.”

Mike pushed himself off from where he leaned, so the space between you shrunk even more.

“I don’t doubt that.”

~~~

“Show me what you’d do if someone were to approach you in front of you,” Mike ordered, placing his hands on his hips. You squinted your eyes at him, thinking.

“I’d try to do this,” you began as Mike pretended to “attack” you. You took your arms and tried to hit him away, but he grabbed you by your forearms and steadied you from losing your balance.

“That’s how they can get a hold on you, as I do now,” Mike explained, with a sly grin on his face. “Instead, you want to make sure you move both your arms to one side and do a swiping motion, so they can’t grab you. Try again.”

He got back into position as you did. You braced yourself as he came to you, holding up his arms. You did exactly what he said before, and moved your arms in a swiping motion, gently hitting his arms away.

“Don’t be afraid to hurt me when we do this. I want you to fully grasp how you’d handle yourself, God forbid, you ever had to,” Mike stated. “One more time.”

You repeated your stance as before, and this time, you aggressively swiped his arms away, feeling your forearm clash against his.

“Good girl,” he smiled in satisfaction. Your heart was pounding again in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was from his comment, or that self-defense training was like a workout. You huffed as you caught your breath.

“And what if they anticipate that? What next?” You asked, genuinely curious. Mike thought for a moment before answering.

“Then you have to use your legs,” he replied. “Let’s try that. Give me your arms,” he held up his hands. You raised your arms, and like slow motion, he wrapped his fingers around you, pulling you closer to him. You gasped at the contact. The tip of your nose barely touched his.

“Listen carefully,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve got your arms. You’re going to want to slip from under, using your whole weight.”

You nodded your head, understanding him. His grip on your arms tightened. You took a deep breath and then plunged, slipping out of his grasp.

“Now stop!” He halted. “Raise your right leg and try to kick my shoulder.”

“I don’t know if I can stretch that much,” you stressed.

“You can. This is life or death. Just try it,” he urged you.

You raised and kicked your right leg, hitting his shoulder and using the weight to push him away. He nodded and clapped his hands.

“Exactly that,” Mike smiled.

“I need a water,” you uttered, “I don’t know how you do this every night. Do you need a water?”

“I could use a water,” Mike answered.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Trotting down the rooftop access stairs, you hurried for two water bottles from the fridge. You glanced at the clock—11:30 PM. Sheesh. Time flies when you’re learning self-defense.

Upon entering the roof again, you were confused to not find Mike where you left him. You scanned the roof, looking for him. Did he leave?

Suddenly, a dark figure came charging at you. You dropped the water bottles and immediately went into defense mode, realizing it was Mike. You thought fast and swiped his arms immediately, swaying him to the side.

“That was a test,” Mike said out of breath.

“Jesus!” You exclaimed, “You scared me!”

“That’s how fast an attacker will be. Out of nowhere, and just like that,” Mike explained.

You shook your head, picking up the water bottles from where you dropped them. You handed one to Mike.

“Let’s take a break, shall we?”

~~~

Matt contemplated coming tonight.

There was something wrong about why he chose to come to you, to fulfill his promise. When he started his activities, he told himself he’d never get attached to the people he saved—never get emotionally involved. He would strictly leave it to business: stop the criminals, and save the innocent person. But for some reason, with you, he couldn’t let go.

The second time he saved you was a complete accident…fate, as you had said. He was in a completely different part of town, and you so happened to be in the same area. He remembers hearing your voice, dignified, yelling at that punk kid to leave that innocent girl alone. He recognized your voice immediately. Matt’s hearing was so sensitive, even after hearing someone’s voice once, he could pick it out in an entire crowd. He liked that you talked to him; that you weren’t afraid of him in his suit.

And still, he wasn’t sure if coming tonight was a good idea. Because he knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from coming again.

And now, here was, on your rooftop, sharing a bottle of water with you. He sat against the wall, knees pulled up. You sat next to him with your legs in front of you.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” You suddenly asked in a soft voice. Matt tilted his head to listen to your body. You were calm now. You weren’t when he first showed up. Your heart was beating steady. She feels safe. She is safe. He could smell a lingering scent of your perfume on your skin. It smelled like black cherry and vanilla.

“Of what?” Matt asked in return.

“You know,” you shrugged, “expecting to be everyone’s savior.”

Matt shook his head, “not really. It’s easy to not get tired when you’ve accepted this as your purpose.”

“It’s your purpose, to bear the burden of other people’s situations?”

Matt laughed, despite himself. “Maybe.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to share that burden with—I’m right here,” you told him. “Even though I don’t actually know who you are.”

He smiled a little. “It’s better that way.”

“Is it?” You questioned. “I mean, you could literally be anyone. You might be one of my professors and I might not even know it. Actually, I’d hate that. I take it back,” you shook your head. Matt laughed again.

“I promise I’m not one of your professors.”

“Phew,” you said. “Well, who are you?”

“A New Yorker, like you.”

“I guess that counts,” you smiled. “How old are you?”

“Oh, come on,” Matt sighed.

“What? These are valid questions. I won’t figure out who you are, but I can know basic information. Can I guess? You’re definitely older than me.”

Another reason why this felt wrong. He wasn’t that much older than you—about seven years.

“I’m not that old,” Matt argued. You laughed.

“I didn’t say you were, Mike.”

“Let’s try another defense technique,” Matt said, changing the subject. He stood up from sitting and held out his hand for you. You grabbed it and he pulled you up. He let his hand linger in your touch before he let go again.

“Okay,” he said, “turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around,” Matt repeated. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered. Matt listened to you closely. You weren’t lying. You turned around.

“Do you mind if I…get close?”

It was your turn to pause. “No.”

“Okay,” Matt took a deep breath. He listened to you closely again, and using his senses, he took you in. He knew your hair was down. He slowly raised his hand and moved your hair to one side, revealing a part of your neck. He felt your goosebumps rise at his touch. You shivered. Matt pretended not to notice. He placed both his hands on either side of your waist, bringing you snug against him, so your back was against his chest. You felt warm against him, and delicate. He slid his arms underneath yours so he rested at your collarbone. He was completely holding you against him now.

“You okay?” He whispered in your ear. You took a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you said in a small voice.

“Someone could come up from behind you, and grab you like this,” he held you tighter for emphasis. “Similar to before if they got hold of your arms, you have to slide out from underneath. And kick back, too.”

“Okay,” you said in understanding. “Let me try.”

Matt anticipated your moves. He felt your muscles tense as you braced yourself to slide down. And you did, quickly. You exited his restraint, and he didn’t feel warm anymore.

“Good,” Matt said, “exactly.”

You caught your breath. “Can we do it again?”

Matt nodded, motioning for you to come to him.

You slid easily back against him, like putting on a glove. It was like your body melted against his, the way you sunk back into position. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath.

Matt could feel every muscle you had relax when you did this. It was then he slipped his arms under you again, holding you tightly—but not in the way he instructed before, a different way. He held you tighter against him and touched his covered nose on your temple. He took a deep breath, and instantly, like inhaling a drug, you filled his senses to the max. Your fragrance was intoxicating. He listened to your heartbeat slowly pick up its pace until it was pounding against your chest. He heard you take your own deep breath, as you sunk even more into his body.

It took everything in him to practice self-restraint. He repeated Bible verses in his head, the longer he held you.

A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls. Proverbs 25:28.

“Ready,” Matt whispered.

~~~

You slipped out of his grasp, and you were almost successful, but he held onto your right hand. Mike kept holding on, and suddenly, you were pulled right back into his grasp. This time, facing him, you collided flush against his chest.

He was breathing heavily, and God did you wish you could see his face underneath that mask. His mouth was slightly parted, and you were breathing heavily. You felt Mike’s strong arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His nose gently touched yours. You felt his hand run up the length of your spine before it rested on the back of your neck. And then, his lips were on yours.

The kiss… you felt his stubble tickle your face, but you didn’t care. His lips crashed into yours, which you accepted gracefully. His lips were soft, but his kiss was rough. Needy. Curious. It was intoxicating, being kissed like that. The closest thing to describing it was like a brand new day. It was like exploring a new universe, where only the two of you existed. Yeah, that’s what it felt like right now. You weren’t in New York City, on your rooftop anymore. It was you and him sharing this kiss, with no one else to see. In secret. His head tilted to the side to take more of you in. You breathed in sharply, desperate for more.

And then, he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“Was that your plan all along?” You asked suspiciously.

“No,” Mike answered. “It wasn’t.”

“Good,” you said, “because that’d be messed up.”

Mike laughed.

“I fear we are way past messed up now, sweetheart.”

Hell’s Kitchen

1:00 AM

Your friends stumbled into the apartment. You were on the couch, LSAT textbook in your hand. You kept reading and re-reading the same paragraph over and over. Your mind kept replaying your moment with Mike, just an hour ago.

“There’s our girl,” Hannah walked in the living room, plopping on the couch next to you. Bella made a beeline for the fridge and Emily sat on the floor, turning the TV on.

“How’d studying go?” Hannah asked drunkenly.

You sighed and closed your textbook.

“Terrible,” you answered with a knowing smile, “I’m in deep trouble for this test.”

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