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disneyprincemuke · 4 months

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first podiums * aa23

it’s her first win in formula one as a female driver and her boyfriend can’t be any happier for her

pairings: alex albon x reader!driver

notes: NOT in any way, shape, or form related to vettel reincarante calm ur horses.. i also sincerely apologise to all the anons sending in requests while i just keep posting logan shit 😭😭 i’m genuinely trying my best please forgive me!!

also um… this is VERY like… so mediocre… i’m so sorry for this babygirl… i will post another fluff alex fic tomorrow i sweaRRR I’M BETTER THAN THIS

(f1 masterlist)

you hadn’t even realised you’d won the race. all the cheering your engineer and team principal had screamed into your ears through the radio hadn’t fully registered. not until you drove into parc ferme and you were guided to the signage with the number one on it.

you couldn’t even climb out of your car, until a figure towered over the halo, causing you to look up. the driver you’d held off for the better part of the last ten laps of the race greets you with a wide smile, gesturing for you to get out of the car and says something about celebrating.

once you climb out of you car, you’re immediately greeted with a tight hug and praises from the veteran driver.

“oh, you raced that so well! i couldn’t find a way past you in those last laps,” max says to you, patting your helmet firmly. “you deserve this. congrats.”

“thank you,” you’d answer him before he walks away to greet other drivers driving into parc ferme.

but you waste no time. you quickly run over to your team, held back by the barricades, and throw yourself into the sea of arms where they sing you praises and pat your back. it’s exhilarating to be on the receiving end after a long weekend.

it’s not been kind to you: starting the race in the midfield, only to fight your way up and be graced by a yellow flag to chase after max for that fight to your first win in formula one.

and being the first to do it other than max this season, it’s a good look for you and the team that’s brought you here today.

you thought the hugs would never end when you tried to pull away but the only wrapped their arms around you tighter, until there was a pat on your shoulder. your feet touch the ground and you’re immediately twirled into another warm hug.

you had no idea who it was until you opened an eye to meet the bright blue race suit you’ve known and loved the entire season. you had no confirmation until he spoke: “i’m so proud of you.”

"alex," you manage to squeak against his race suit, your helmet uncomfortably being held in alex's arms.

you can hear him giggle as he reaches beneath your helmet, unclipping the harness before he helps you to pull off your head. "hey, race winner! you were amazing out there!"

"how'd you get here so fast?" you laugh, looking around for his car.

"i finished p4 today," he smiles.

you throw your head back in a softer laugh, yanking off your balaclava. you tear away the hair tie that held your hair up, fluffing it out after it'd been stuck to your head for the better part of the past two hours.

"that's amazing, alex! that's a good race!"

"yours is even better! you won!" he beams. "speaking of that, i do have a surprise."

"what are you talking about?"

alex reaches for something behind him, probably held onto by somebody else. you try to move your head around his body to see what it is, but he's quick to counter your gaze by moving himself to where your eyes wander.

"congratulations," alex smiles, moving his hand between your bodies, presenting to you the biggest bouquet to flowers you've ever seen in your life. "these are for you. there will be more later after the podium."

"aren't we going to the nightclub with the guys after the podium and press?" you whisper, taking the flowers into your hands and taking a step towards him. "you guys have got that new race winner tradition, don't you? since you guys kinda run the grid now?”

"you're not much of a drinker - i'm sure they'll understand," alex shrugs with a small smile. "besides, would you rather spend the evening with tons of drunk losers, or just one sober loser - whom you're very much in love with?"

“i guess the latter does sound very romantic,” you smile sweetly, letting him pull you in with a hand on your waist. “you are planning something romantic, right?”

“of course. it’s my baby’s first win in formula one,” alex smiles, leaning down with puckered lips.

you wrap a hand around his neck, reeling him in to connect your lips. the moment is so intimate that you almost don’t notice the flashing lights that surround you.

but it doesn’t go past alex. if he could have all the privacy in the world and do whatever he wants with you, he would. so, he does the one thing he thinks would help him avoid headlines and your pictures plastered everywhere in the morning.

he lifts his helmet to hide your face away from the cameras, allowing you to share whatever’s left of your intimate moment. he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “you’re a race winner. when we get back home, we can make our trophies kiss.”

“that’s cute. they’re like our little kids,” you giggle, nudging his nose with yours. “i’ll see you in the car after i’m done with everything? look cute, okay?”

being on the top of that podium step was more exhilarating than you could ever imagine. to hear the crowd chant your name, to listen to your national anthem being blasted for everyone to hear and to watch your loved ones huddled together in the crowd for you is a feeling you’ll never be able to shake off.

in the far corner, you could see alex forcing logan to take a video of you, probably telling him off about which angle to hold the phone at to make you look flattering.

you almost burst into tears when you watched the rookie shove the phone back into your boyfriend’s hands and walk away, shaking his head in disappointment.

with every step you took in the paddocks thereafter, somebody is quick to stop you in your tracks. whether it’s for a picture, a short greeting for your performance, or just a hug. it’s all managed to make you feel a little overwhelmed.

and tired. because by the time alex managed to get you all to himself, it’s practically midnight and all the remaining energy had been squeezed out of you.

you weren’t even able to make a friendly appearance at the nightclub that max had invited you out to. your boyfriend had to practically drag you out of your driver’s room before you passed out in there entirely.

here you are, in your hotel room surrounded by takeout and a pint of chocolate ice cream. your ipad is propped up by several pillows with a random youtube video playing in the room.

“love,” alex hums, reaching out to pause the video. he rolls on his stomach, tapping your shoulder. “i hope you were able to enjoy your first win. i know you’re quite tired.”

of course, you’d been dozing off with the takeout box in your hand. but alex had put in so much effort in making his hotel room feel like a celebration after all your efforts throughout the evening that it would have felt rude — illegal, even — to politely decline from how drained you are.

“love, of course, i enjoyed everything,” you smile, putting a hand on his cheek. you tilt your head and let your hair fall past your shoulders. “i’m sorry, i wish i had more energy to go out and do something. we could have gotten some drinks and celebrated with the guys.”

alex leans into your touch, closing his eyes momentarily. “i hope my simple setup didn’t disappoint. i would have gotten us some wine, but ya know… you don’t really drink.”

“hey, i love cranberry juice,” you grin, pinching his cheek very slightly. “thank you. for all of this, and the flowers. you really didn’t have to — it’s not like i’d won the championship?”

“oh, you’re aiming for that next,” alex smiles with a nod. “not before me, though! you’re going to have to fight me for that championship.”

“ah, i wouldn’t speak so much for someone who can’t beat me in mario kart,” you roll your eyes playfully.

alex raises his eyebrows, sitting up in disbelief. “yeah? you got the energy to beat me in mario kart right now?”

“i always have the energy for that!” you shriek when alex yanks you into his body, trying to avoid spilling the food onto your white bedsheets. “alex, the food!”

“eat faster so we can play mario kart! come on!”

#alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #alex albon #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #aa23 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #f1 fanfic

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jupitercomet · 7 months

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20 Questions: In Three Parts

summary - You should have known to question when Bob suddenly appeared in your bakery and made his place in your life—but, in your defense, his smile was so charming! Five dates in and he’s already swept you off your feet completely with his thoughtful nature and kind heart. But the question still remains: what do you actually know about him? And why does he always come back to you covered in bruises?

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, Bob is 6′5″ because I said so, no use of y/n, I added outfit links but you can imagine whatever you would like

this series is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.5k

sweeter than sugar masterlist

“Okay, 20 questions.”

Bob raises his brows slightly. “20 questions?”

“Yeah,” you grin at him from over the counter. “20 questions.”

You didn’t exactly know what your relationship with Bob was. After your impromptu lunch, he started stopping by Sugar Plum more regularly. Then that turned to him staying until closing. Then after closing—Eloise was there too at first, but when you both deemed Bob to be an, at least, normal guy, she started giving you privacy. She certainly doesn’t mind going home an hour early either. Now he chats with you until everything is cleaned and put away—he offered to help, but you have a system—and then walks you to your car.

Bob looks at you before he lets out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “Yeah, alright. Are you starting or am I?”

“I can start.” You tell him over your shoulder. “And that counts as one of your questions, by the way.” You add.

“I don’t think that’s entirely fair,” Bob chuckles.

You ignore him coyly. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

“Probably New York, just to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.” Bob says after a moment.

“You like art?” You pause from wiping down the countertop.

Bob’s lip twitches into a small smile. “I do. And that counts as one of your questions. What made you know you wanted to be a baker?”

“I don’t know, it was something I did for fun growing up. I used to sit my family down and force them to eat whatever crime against chemistry I concocted. But when I got good at it, and realized I could make a career out of it, I just kinda did,” you shrug, a bashful smile playing on your lips. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

“Would you still like me if I told you I was unemployed?”

You laugh. “I know you’re not unemployed, Bob.”

“How do you know that?” Bob makes a slight face.

“Men who are unemployed don’t usually leave repeated 20% tips.”

The tips of Bob’s ears pinken. “Right well, I don’t know, I don’t really have a job. I… work at a gym, but I pick up odd jobs all over the place too.”

“That’s cool,” and you mean it, but you can also tell Bob is slightly embarrassed and he definitely shouldn’t be. “What do you do at the gym?”

He looks down and you think it’s rather sweet how shy he seems. “I’m a boxing instructor. Give lessons and all that.”

“Do you get a lot of boxers?” Your eyebrows raise. You’d heard rumors from Eloise when you first moved to San Diego. How there’s some elaborate underground boxing ring that connects all throughout the city. You’re not sure you believe it—it seems a little far fetched—but maybe there’s some validity to the fact that, at the very least, the sport is popular.

Bob lets out a hollow sounding chuckle. “You’d be surprised.”

“I’m sure I would be. The only thing I punch is, like, stubborn dough,” you wrinkle your nose after a moment, freezing behind the counter. “That was a terrible joke actually, I’m sorry.”

Bob lets out a genuine chuckle this time, his head dropping as he bites back a smile, looking up at you through his lashes. “You ever tried standup, sweet pea?”

“No,” you stick your tongue out at him. “And that’s question number three.”

Bob holds his hands up in mock surrender, and though it hardly graces his lips, there’s a smile in his eyes as he watches you finish up the last of your cleaning. You seem somewhat deep in thought as you reach behind yourself to tug on the ties of your apron. The canvas strings catch and Bob stands as you fiddle with them.

“Want help?”

You nod gratefully, moving out from behind the counter so he can reach you. It’s quiet as he untangles the ties and you keep your gaze trained on your shoes because you really don’t want Bob to see how the feeling of his breath on the back of your neck is affecting you.

“There.” His hands drop and the untied apron now opens around your body. “Think it’s your turn to ask a question, sweet pea.”

You take off your apron with a shaky breath, gathering all your courage before you turn to face Bob again. You like hanging out with him and the way he just goes along with whatever antics you put him through. What other grown man entertains the idea of playing 20 questions? You like hanging out with him and you want to do it more. “Do you think you could, um, teach me… boxing? That’s— That’s my question.”

“I don’t know if—”

“I was planning on starting it anyway!” That’s definitely a lie but there’s no way you’d ever tell Bob that. “It seemed like good exercise and one of my friends has been raving about it. But I’d feel better if I knew the instructor.”

Bob swallows, looking at you with an unreadable expression before he finally nods slowly. “I guess I could— Yeah sure, I’ll, um, I’ll teach you. Does Wednesday afternoon work?”

“Yeah, that works,” you nod excitedly, turning away to turn off the kitchen lights—as well as hide your giddy expression. “That was another question, by the way. Now we’re even.”

“Well, someone’s home late,” Mickey lets out a low whistle as Bob closes the door to his apartment, his legs kicked up on the coffee table as he lounges on the couch.

“You know you don’t live here, right?”

Mickey looks up in mock offense, powdered sugar sticking to the corner of his lips. “Is that anyway to treat your best friend? Since childhood?”

“How is reminding you that you have your own apartment—” Bob stops, looking at the open—and very empty—purple box with white cursive font on it. “Did you eat my donuts?”

Mickey’s eyes flick flatly down to the identical box in Bob’s hands before going back up to his face. Sheepishly, Bob looks away, not wanting his best friend to catch on to the pink blush that is dusting his cheeks.

“Clearly, I did you a favor. Don’t think your trainer’s gonna be too happy that you’re stuffing yourself full of sugar,” Mickey licks some of the powdered sugar off his lips, before making himself comfortable again.

Bob’s blush deepens. “It’s not that much.”

“Sure. Is she cute at least?” Mickey wipes his index finger on the sugar covered parchment paper in the box, popping it in his mouth with a satisfied hum.

“Who?”

“The girl you’re trying to impress by buying all this shit.” Bob opens his mouth to protest, but Mickey scoffs, “Don’t even try to act like you’re not. You did the same thing in middle school when you had a crush on Mindy Carverse.”

“No, I didn’t,” Bob calls over his shoulder, moving to the kitchen to put down the box of treats from Sugar Plum you insisted he take home with him—and to escape Mickey’s pestering.

“You forced me to join the mathletes with you because she was the captain. We were both in the lowest level math class, Bob!”

“Okay, well that— These are entirely different situations,” Bob argues back, peering through the wall cutout of his kitchen at the back of Mickey’s head. “She just makes really good desserts.”

Mickey jumps up, whirling around and pointing an accusing, powdered sugar covered finger at him. “Aha! So there is a girl, I knew it! Has Bobby boy found himself a girlfriend?”

“Would you stop it? You’re worse than my mom,” Bob groans, tossing an oven mitt at Mickey in retaliation.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with Sarah wanting her baby Bo to find a nice girl and settle down,” Mickey dodges the oven mitt easily and Bob huffs out a low scoff as it flops and then skids off the coffee table. “But you, sir, are avoiding the question. Who is she? When’d ya meet her? Does she like you? Have you kiss—”

This time he doesn’t dodge the second oven mitt that hits him in the face.

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just— She’s just nice, alright?” Bob looks down at the swirly font of “Sugar Plum Bakery”, stark white against lilac purple, with a small smile. “She’s sweet.”

Mickey’s smile grows and he hurries around the couch to join Bob in the kitchen. “Oh, so you like like her then? You gonna ask her out?”

“No,” Bob deflates at the reminder, walking out of the kitchen to toss the empty box of treats Mickey finished before it starts attracting ants.

“What?” Mickey follows after him, brows furrowed. “Why?”

Bob sighs.

Guilt had been bubbling in his stomach since he’d agreed to see you again Wednesday, eating away at his stomach lining with every bitter reminder. He lied. He lied. He lied. Good people don’t lie, Bob knows that. He doesn’t need some children's book to tell him that, some rabbits or otters, he knows he shouldn’t lie.

But if Bob doesn’t lie, he admits he’s a bad person. If he doesn’t lie, he has to look you in the eyes—those same eyes that light up when you ramble about something you like, that hide behind your cheeks when you smile, that look at him so softly—and tell you that he beats the ever living shit out of people for a living. And good people don’t do that.

So he didn’t tell you that. He lied. He lied. He lied. And Bob told himself that he should leave you alone, that you don’t deserve to be with someone like him. That you don’t deserve to be with someone who covers his every mistake with reusable shopping bags and recycling bins—like cheap band-aids on a bullet hole.

Bob tells himself to leave you alone. But he can never seem to follow it. Instead he comes back, and keeps coming back, and asks you to share cupcakes with him, and agrees to teach you how to box. Because, even though he tells himself he doesn’t deserve you, it does nothing to outweigh the fact that he wants you anyway.

So Bob can’t ask you out—he can’t ask you to stay. Because, if he does, Bob knows he’ll do everything in his power to make sure you never leave. And you deserve more than reusable shopping bags and recycling bins. You deserve more than a liar.

Mickey’s lips suddenly part in understanding. “She doesn’t know.”

Bob swallows, looking down at the empty purple box with white cursive font in his hands.

“She doesn’t know,” he repeats.

You’re already waiting outside when Bob finally makes it to Maverick’s on Wednesday afternoon. The two of you had been texting back and forth in anticipation—which resulted in you sending him a very cute photo of you pretending to box pastry dough that he has since made your contact picture. But even with all of that, he feels slightly sick seeing you standing in front of white painted bricks of Maverick’s Gym and Boxing.

“Hi!” You wave excitedly as Bob gets closer, waiting until he’s standing in front of you to speak again. “You ready, coach?”

That puts a small smile on his face and he shakes his head as he opens the door for you both. “Coach?” He questions simply.

“Yeah, you’re coaching me, aren’t you? Like Rocky.”

Bob gives the girl at the front desk a small nod of acknowledgement. She knows him—most people at Maverick’s do—and only seems mildly surprised to see you walking in next to him. Bob doesn’t usually bring people here, even Mickey’s only seen the inside of Maverick’s a couple times.

“Is that the only boxing movie you know?” Bob teases lightly, your excitement making it marginally harder for him to feel uneasy about bringing you here.

“For your information, I saw the trailer for the new Creed movie, I just never got around to watching it. But there’s another franchise,” you put your hands on your hips as Bob turns around to grab some clean wraps and gloves for you. “And that definitely counts as another question for you.”

His eyebrows raise slightly and he cranes his neck over his shoulder to look at you. “We’re still playin’?”

“We haven’t gotten to 20 questions yet. We both only got to five— Well, now I’m at five. You’re at six.”

“Alright then, we’ll keep playing. Give me your hands please.” You hold your hands out for Bob to wrap them, watching with bated breath as his calloused fingers brush against your skin. “Gotta keep your hands protected, sweet pea. They got work to do decorating pretty cakes.”

You grin as Bob slides a glove onto one of your hands, before deciding it’s not the right size and taking it off. “They’re also very sick of decorating pretty cakes. I had to make, like, three wedding cakes in the past seven days.”

Bob finally finds a pair of gloves he’s happy with, sliding them on your hands and securing them with the velcro strap carefully.

“Decorating pretty cupcakes, then.” He gives you a small smile.

He pulls away once the gloves are secure, putting a step of space between you as he straightens to his full size. He’s not wearing his ball cap today and he runs a hand through his hair to keep it out of his face, soft looking strands peeking out under his ears. Bob crosses his arms, his biceps bulging enough to test the resilience of his t-shirt sleeves. You swallow thickly. Maybe Eloise had been on to something when she called him God’s gift to women.

“Alright then, let’s see your stance, sweet pea.”

You blink, pulling yourself from the trance of Bob’s biceps and meeting his eye. “My— My what?”

“Your stance,” Bob repeats. “Let’s say you’re trying to punch me, how would you start?”

“Like this?…” You trail off unsurely, attempting to keep your feet in line with your hips because that’s what most workout YouTube videos always said and you were hoping it would also be applicable here.

You feel a little silly, you realize, and not the least bit intimidating. Part of you wishes you’d just asked Bob out like you wanted to, instead of using his job as a pretense to hangout with him. When another tall, large man starts approaching from behind Bob, you drop the stance in mild embarrassment, like you’ve been caught trying something you shouldn’t, and Bob’s brows furrow.

“Hey Reaper, you lookin’ to—” When the man’s focus lands on you, having not been able to see you behind Bob’s towering frame, his eyes widen slightly. “Oh shit, my bad. Didn’t know you had a girl with ya, Reaper.”

Bob freezes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, um, maybe another time, Brigham.”

The man nods in understanding, throwing you a polite wave as he leaves. “For sure, man. Sorry for interrupting.”

You wait for him to walk away, nose scrunched in confusion. Bob seems to be acting like the whole event never happened, moving through his routine like it was never interrupted. It throws you a bit because, to you, that man seemed perfectly normal. But Bob’s almost putting up an act of normalcy. “Why does he call you that?”

“Why does he call me what?” Bob returns the question, not facing you as he grabs two strike pads.

“Reaper.”

He stills, a pad halfway on his hand and he keeps his gaze stubbornly trained on it. You almost feel like you’ve ventured into territory that you shouldn’t until he finally speaks.“I… I love spicy food. It’s Reaper like a Carolina Reaper.”

“Oh,” you nod and Bob finishes putting on the strike pads. “That’s cool! I guess that probably counts as my question too, huh?”

Bob swallows, not quite meeting your eye as he nods. “Yeah, um, you ready to start?” You grin at his question and it seems like Bob can’t help the small smile that fights its way onto his lips. “I’m never gonna learn anything about you if you keep counting these as questions, sweet pea.”

“That’s a shame. You’ll just have to get better at asking questions then,” you shrug and then look down in baffled surprise when the weight of your hands snapped your arms straight back to your sides. Boxing gloves are heavy.

Bob lets out a loud, honest laugh at your expression. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh, you realize. Maybe the first time anyone has heard him laugh if the startled reactions of people around you are anything to go by. But you look up and Bob’s eyes are squeezed shut, his face all crows feet and smile lines, and he laughs.

You want to make him laugh all the time.

“Sorry,” he quiets down to soft chuckles, looking at you endearingly as his mouth returns to its usual small smile. “Sorry, that was just— I’ve never seen anyone make that face before.”

“It’s okay. I like when you laugh.”

Like some kind of fucked up Freudian slip, your mouth doesn’t stop when it’s supposed to, instead choosing to spill out the thought that’s been orbiting your mind for the past minute or so. The words hang in the air—your mouth choosing now to finally close, your teeth hitting each other audibly—and you almost wish you could punch them instead of Bob’s strike pads.

Bob’s bright pink from cheeks, to ears, to neck and he looks down. “Thank you… I, um, I also like when you laugh.”

“Oh.” Most of your mortification washes away as Bob smiles at you bashfully and you can’t stop the butterflies that are fluttering in your stomach. “Thanks.”

It’s quiet and you look down at your boxing gloves as you try to beg the butterflies inside you to go back to their caterpillar state so that you can calm down. Bob doesn’t seem to be faring much better, turning his neck to peer out one of the many windows in Maverick’s—a blush still very evident on his face.

“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” You blurt.

Bob turns back to look at you quickly. “Sorry?”

“For 20 questions.” You elaborate. “What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Oh, right,” Bob looks up for a moment to think. “Probably cookie dough, I think.” He holds the strike pads up suddenly and you cringe internally at the reminder of what you’ve agreed to do just to spend time with this man. “Sorry, you came here for a lesson. We can—”

Your eyes widen slightly and you try to prolong the inevitable. “It’s your turn to ask a question,” you interrupt hastily.

Bob drops his hands, looking at you thoughtfully and not saying a word. You wonder if he’s finally caught on to how desperate you’re acting. You’d hyped yourself up this morning and everything! And yet you are still acting like an idiot.

Bob swallows, lets out a breath, and then meets your eye. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?”

What Bob Floyd wants to do and what he knows he should do are two very different things, and it was in meeting you that Bob realized he is far more inclined to do what he wants. Because he told Mickey that he wouldn’t ask you out, that you’re too good for him, that he would leave you alone. And here he is waiting outside a restaurant you suggested, wearing a nice button up and slacks like he’s some sort of Mav clone after having spent a little over half an hour slicking back his hair and gathering his nerves.

Which is entirely the opposite of leaving you alone.

Briefly, he wonders if he should go. Act like a dick in that regard and make it so you don’t want him around you anymore. Leave you waiting for him at a restaurant wondering if Bob Floyd is really the good person you thought he was. But he can’t stomach the thought for more than a second. Because he doesn’t deserve you, he knows that, but you're both well past that now so there’s not much he can do about it. The least he could do is try.

“Oh gosh, sorry! I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

Bob turns around at the sound of your voice, mouth opening to assure you that he really hasn’t been waiting that long. But his eyes land on you and suddenly words escape him. You’re so pretty.

“Fuck, I should have brought flowers.” He takes in your dress, and then his words, and then cringes. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t curse on a date.”

You laugh, looking up at him with a smile Bob thinks is far too large for him to be on the receiving end of. “It’s okay. And, um, next time we can both get each other flowers.”

Bob moves to open the door for you, which he knows he should do, so he can distract himself from the sudden urge he has to kiss you, which he really wants to do. You follow after him, sliding off your jacket as you enter the dimly lit restaurant. Bob hasn’t been here before and it seems you haven’t either, as you look a little disoriented searching for the hostess.

“Sorry, I’ve never actually eaten here,” you explain after the hostess makes her way to the both of you and seats you at a table. “I’ve just always wanted to check it out and their reviews say they have really good spicy food, so I thought you might like it.”

Bob has never been more grateful that growing up with Mickey Garcia meant being force fed every pepper in existence under the pretense of double-dog dares and weekly allowances. Because of that, he’s built up a fairly high spice tolerance to match the lie he told you at Maverick’s. Again, Bob’s stomach twists at the reminder.

“But anyway,” you wave off, pulling Bob’s attention away from his inner turmoil and onto you. “I’ve been thinking about what questions to ask you and I think I got the most important ones.”

“Alright, hit me.” Bob nods, rubbing the tips of his fingers together nervously under the table.

You make a sour face suddenly. “Don’t even use that as an expression around me, my arms are still sore from Wednesday.”

Bob chuckles, ducking his head down to hide his smile as you rub out your arms with a slight pout. “I’ll let you borrow a massage gun.”

“I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me.” You narrow your eyes teasingly. “But you should know that I box now and my trainer is really good, so I know how to kick your ass.”

Bob smiles and he realizes he likes the sound of being your trainer—well, he likes the sound of being your anything. And he knows that isn’t a thought he should be having, not with how much he’s lied to you, but as the waitress takes your order and you tease him for the fact he ordered a soda, Bob doesn’t want to throw that thought away. He wants to keep doing this with you and listen to you laugh, and ask him questions, and tell him how you’ll kick his ass. He knows he shouldn’t, but he wants to.

“Okay,” you look at him seriously. “What’s the movie that means the most to you?”

Bob hums, tapping his fingers against the wooden table. “Probably The Notebook. It’s my mom’s favorite movie and we’d watch it all the time - movie nights, if I was home sick, it was just kind of our thing. So, yeah, The Notebook.”

When Bob looks up, you’re smiling at him, eyes twinkling under the orangey-yellow bulb that hangs from the long ceiling light above your table. Normally he would have picked a cooler movie, he doesn’t entirely know why he’s being so honest with you. Maybe it’s his brain’s way of combating the guilt that comes from when he’s lied to you. Maybe, if he’s honest enough, it’ll balance out.

“What about you though?” He asks. “Do you have a movie that means the most to you?”

Your mouth falls open. “Hey! You can’t just repeat my question, that’s cheating!”

Bob chuckles at your outcry—and the way you nudge his leg with your own under the table. “I don’t think you can cheat at 20 questions, sweet pea. Besides, maybe I really wanna know what movie means the most to you.”

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But you can cheat at 20 questions and you just did.” You nudge his knee again before thinking. “I’d say Ratatouille as mine.” Smiling softly, you recall a memory. “It’s what inspired me to care so much about food, I think. I’d watch it and dream of working in Paris just like Remy.”

“Do you still want to work in Paris?”

You purse your lips pensively. “No, I don’t think so. I love San Diego, I don’t think I could leave. Even for Paris. What about you? Do you see yourself staying a boxing instructor?”

“Yeah,” Bob swallows down a sip of his Coke, but it does nothing to push down the honesty erupting from his mouth. “It’s just one of those jobs that makes you feel like you couldn’t do anything else, I guess. But there are worse jobs to have.”

The waitress comes back with your food before you can respond—Bob’s somewhat grateful for that as he’s not entirely sure if he wants to hear what you’ll say to his answer. Your game of 20 questions is paused, conversation flowing easily between the two of you, and Bob finds himself smiling, and chuckling—and laughing—between mouthfuls. He likes you, he knew that already. But he wants you too. And he knows he shouldn’t, but right now, under orangey-yellow lights and with the taste of Coca-Cola on his tongue, he can’t bring himself to care.

It isn’t until you’re saying goodbye, as he helps you put your coat on and opens the door for you, that he even remembers you had yet to finish your game.

“Wait!” You stop at the sound of his voice, turning to look at him as you stand on the sidewalk and Bob takes a few strides to meet you. “It’s— It’s your turn. You have the last question.”

You bite back a smile and Bob’s glad it’s somewhat dark out so you can’t catch how pink you’ve made him—again. But you’re looking up at him so intently, he’s sure you’ve noticed anyway.

“I’m gonna save it,” you say.

“Save it?”

“Yeah.” And as you stand there, under the warm light of the restaurant's frosted windows grinning at him, Bob swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful. “So I guess we’ll just have to go on another date.”

join my Bob Floyd taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold

#bob floyd imagine #bob floyd imagines #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd angst #bob floyd au #bob imagine #bob imagines #bob x reader #bob fluff #bob angst #bob au #top gun maverick imagines #x reader #sweeter than sugar #under the hard deck #buggy's got a pen

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axelsagewrites · 10 months

Text

Daemon Targaryen*Shopping

Sugar Baby Series Part Three

Part one - Part two

Pairings: Daemon x f!reader

Other pairings: reader x platonic Jace/Cregan/Sara/Aly/Aemond, Jace x Sara Snow

Warnings: creepy Aegon, Aemond having bad parents (Aemond redemption arc anyone??), general confrontation, swears, mentions of sex but nothing graphic, innuendos

Word count: 3390

Masterlist Here

“Remind me why we have to go to work when your sugar daddies already paid our bills for the next like six months?” Sara asked after you had both just sprinted to catch the bus.

You rolled your eyes as you stood on the bustling city bus filled with stoners and depressed office workers, “When did it become our money?” you asked. By this point you had gone on several more dates with Daemon. All to fancy restaurants and lunch spots.

He’d also began to send outfits to your house for each, making sure they were sent in discreet packaging still not trusting your neighbours. Gucci belts, Louis Vuitton heels, Chanel dress, Prada bags. Each date got a new outfit, hand picked by a stylist he had hired for you. each date also got an envelope discreetly passed to you as he kissed you goodnight. These goodbye kisses may have started out slow, but one time Sara had genuinely wondered if you were having sex on the doorway with how long it was taking. The best part? You didn’t have to pick up as many shifts so for once you felt you could relax. Sadly though, you still kept working despite it all.

Sara wrapped her arm around yours, partly to try keep steady on the bumpy roads as she held onto a handrail, “I’m your sugar baby now,” she said as she leaned into you making you laugh, “How many dates till you can get a car? Oh! Try get his Benz!” She chirped as an old lady a foot away glared at her. sara just glared back.

You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics, “I’ll see what I can do. Still waiting on him texting me the next date,”

“Make it soon,” she groaned. The rest of the bus journey was mostly uneventful apart from the lady sara had developed a silent beef with. Luckily, she got off before you. the restaurant wasn’t supposed to be too busy tonight however that didn’t make it safe from a Targaryen invasion.

Aly smiled unnaturally wide as you and Sara walked in, arms linked laughing. “Hey guys,” she said, drawing out the words with the biggest smile. She may be a server and a host, but she was a horrible liar. “How are you?” she asked.

Your stomach felt hollow as you realised, “Oh god not again,”

Aly told you both how Aegon had practically skipped down a few months ago when he graduated business school and now that Alicent had tracked him down and dragged him back she, her father, husband and eldest son were now due in for dinner to celebrate. “It is so not my turn, nuh uh no way,”

“Don’t worry its Cregan’s turn,” Aly said as she looked over the reservation, “I gave you the good section tonight, remember me when you marry rich,” she said, smiling as she leant on the host stand.

“You bitch,” you said as you smacked Saras arm, “How many people did you tell?”

“Ow!” Sara whined as she hit you back. “It wasn’t me gold digger,” she said as she swapped placed with Aly to take over as host, “Bet you it was Cregan,”

You rolled your eyes when Aly told you that basically everyone knew, “What about Aemond?” you asked as you tied your apron on, “Speaking of where the hell is he?”

“He’s tots freaking out about his mum coming in with Aegon and is going all perfectionist on the layout,” Aly said as she picked up her bags, “Mans been driving me up the wall. But he doesn’t know. we’re not that cruel besides he barely talks to us now,”

How is he not lonely you wondered. Before you could even protest Aly beelined for the door and you heard a loud huff, “No loitering!” Aemond puffed out his chest as he practically dragged you to the server stand, Sara giving a sorry wave as you went, “Everything needs to be perfect today, my mothers been on my case about this place and she needs to see that im still the better son so you better bring you’re a game-“

Wait a minute. “What?” you said as you stopped in the middle of the floor. There were only three tables in right now and four servers, but Aemond still walked right up to you to ask what’s wrong, “I had her last time?”

“And?” he asked, crossing his arms, “Why can’t you serve her this time? she likes you,”

You couldn’t help but snort, “Aem we used to be friends, remember?” you asked, touching his shoulder, “Remember our walk-in conversation?” you asked with raised brows. One-night Aemond practically had a breakdown his first month on the job because his mother had come in and was tormenting the staff all night, “We both know she’s a nightmare,”

“C’mon she’s my mom,” he sighed as he finished dragging you to the host stand, “Do me a favour. Since we used to be friends,” he said, rolling his eyes when he said used to, “Though I thought we still were,” he muttered and for a second you almost felt bad, “Just do your job its not that hard,” then he opened his mouth again.

“Whatevs Aemond,” you said as you logged into the tablet, “Don’t you have a rota to fuck up?” before he could protest a chef came out to drag him into the kitchen to complain about the latest food order. You knew better than to back talk Aemond but the nearly $7 in your cookie tin at home was putting a pep in your step.

Hearing that Alicent liked you was the only thing that worried you. daemon had been in a couple times since your arrangement had started and each time, he gave you a sly smirk or a wink. Whenever there was no Hightower in sight, he would request your section but even still she seemed to be catching on to some kind of tension.

When you arrived at their table to take their order you were met with the confused eyes of Aegon Targaryen, “(Y/N)?” he asked, tilting his head when he saw you before he suddenly stood up, “Long time no see,” he said and before you could say anything or even move he’d wrapped his arms around you for a brief, but very touchy hug. “How’ve you been doll?”

That name was exclusively reserved in your mind for daemon so when Aegon said it you quickly pulled him off of you with a smile, “I’m good Mr Targaryen, can I get you a drink?” you said as you showed him back to his seat. Alicent was muttering something under her breath, eyes glaring daggers into the table, “Can I get you anything ma’am?”

“Water for the table and- “

“Plenty of lemons? Of course, ma’am,” you said, cutting her off and trying not to smirk. No matter what Alicent knew, there was something she did not know. daemon had already given you all the dirt on her. he had told you every crumb of his family drama and for once you felt like you had the upper hand. “Anything for our regulars,” you smiled as you jotted down on your notepad.

Viserys seemed extremely pleased that you had recognised their frequent visits but Alicent and Otto both looked mortified. When it was finally time to take their orders, Otto spoke up first, “I’ll have a medium rare steak with no pink and not burnt either hear me? I swear your kitchen people can’t cook steak to save their life,” he muttered.

Then order something else. You wanted to scream. The whole night went like that. Alicent’s petty requests and Aegon’s creepy stares. Even Aemond had asked if you were okay at one point. You’d snuck off to the kitchen to send a quick rant text to daemon, asking how he could be related to these sorts of people.

Otto had sent back his steak for the third time, everyone else on desert as he waited. “Medium rare no pink,” you said, trying your best to smile as you sat down his impossible order. “Enjoy,”

“Wait,” he said as he picked up his cutlery, “I want to make sure its right before you run off again,” you nodded and waited as he cut into the meat, excruciatingly slow, “Again!” he yelled as he slammed the cutlery down, making even Alicent jump, “Look at all this blood! He said as he picked up the plate only to clatter it back onto the table, “Does that look medium rare to you?” he asked, pointing the steak knife at you.

“Yes,” you said blankly, ignoring the vein that almost bulged out of his forehead, “Do not yell at me sir,”

“Excuse me?” Otto yelled as he stood up, dropping his knife onto the table, “I never- I come here all the time and- Aemond!” he yelled across to the boy who was trying to hide behind a bar tender, “Talk to your staff this is ridiculous,”

Aemond practically ran over as he tried to defuse his grandfather, begging him to sit down at the same time. “She’s sorry, aren’t you?” Aemond asked as he grabbed your arm, looking at you with pleading eyes.

You briefly glanced at Sara who was watching this whole thing from the host stand and Cregan who had just walked in for his shift. You turned back to the group, looking at Alicent first, glancing over to the sulking Viserys and Aegon who had finally grown some humility, then finally the grown man yelling like a child. “I’m sorry you never learned how to order a steak,” you said slowly, ignoring how Aemond tried to pull you away and shaking him off, “Learn how to order a steak and find some manners,”

Before Otto could speak you continued, turning to face Aemond who looked on the brink of tears, “I quit, you can have my tables and as for yous- “you said turning to face the table. Aegon’s jaw went slack as he stared at you in amazement while Viserys looked at his wife, fear radiating off of him. Alicent however looked shocked, angry, and embarrassed all at once, “Have a pleasant fucking day, see ya,”

With that you stormed out to the host stand, not even bothering to clock out or put your tips in the tip out jar and grabbed your jacket from the rack. You glanced back to see Alicent and Otto screaming at Aemond, pointing at you with flailing arms. “I quit,” you told the shocked siblings, “And I think I might have accidentally got Aemond killed. Good luck,”

“You’re my hero,” Cregan said, his eyes wide with awe like a child.

“I’ve never been so proud,” Sara said before glancing back to where Alicent and Otto were now storming over, “but you need to go. Like now. Run if you can,”

You didn’t wait another second before almost running out the restaurant however as you reached the street you felt yourself smack into someone’s chest. “Doll?” a deep voice came from the man. You looked up to see Daemon, still in his work clothes and looking down at you with worry and shock, “Are you okay?”

“We need to go,” you said as you grabbed his hand and dragged him back to the car he had just got out of, “I’ll explain in the car just go, go!” you said as you jumped in the back seat.

“To my house please,” Daemon told his very shocked looking driver, “What happened doll?” he asked as he shut the door.

You looked past him to where a bewildered otto looked around the street shocked, “I think I may have upset your sister-in-law,” you said with a sheepish smile. “I guess you got my text?”

Daemon looked back from otto to you, eyebrows scrunched and jaw hanging open, “I was coming over to yell at them but looks like you beat me to it,”

When you retold your glorious tale to Daemon, he listened in silence like he was reading the tensest book of his life. When you finished your tale, you feared for a moment that he looked almost disappointed in you. then a smirk spread across his face. “I’ve never been prouder of you doll face. Eryk change of plans we need to go dress shopping. Celebrations are in order,”

You had never been shopping with daemon, but you could easily get used to it. he whisked you past all the shops you used to frequent and straight to the nearest boutique. He sat patiently, sipping champagne as a shopping assistant helped you find and try on dresses to show him.

Daemons eyes raked up and down your figure when you stepped out the changing room for the fifth time. Daemon stood up slowly from the chair, stepping towards you and silently taking your hand to slowly spin you around, “Like it?” you giggled as his eyes finally tore away from your figure to your eyes. It was a dark purple, satin evening dress that hugged you perfectly and felt as silky as a waterfall.

“Fucking love, it,” he mumbled as he stepped in closer, placing a soft kiss to your lips, “You’re getting it,”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit much for tonight?” you asked, stepping back with a laugh to look in the mirror. It was beautiful, you had to admit, but you had also seen the price tag.

“We’ll get another for tonight,” Daemon said as he moved back to pour you your own glass of champagne, “and that can be for the gala,”

“The gala?” you asked, finally turning back to him.

Daemon rolled his eyes as he gulped his champagne down, “It’s a family thing,” he drawled as he returned to his chair, “it will be painfully dull im afraid but suppose it will be far more enjoyable with you on my arm,”

Even still after all this time you couldn’t help your flush, “We’ll see,” you grinned as you looked at the dress, “You sure it’s not too expensive?”

“Nothings too much for my princess,” he said before waving down the store woman who was hanging around like a hawk, “Can we see her in that dark red number I saw in the window?”

“Of course, sir, just one moment,”

After another three dresses you had finally settled on one for tonight. It was a silk black dress, simpler than the rest but still to die for. When you told daemon it was the one, he nodded, kissing your cheek before waving the lady back over, “Hi we’ll take this one now along with the dark red, white, and lilac dresses from before. then as for that purple dress do yous do custom sizing?”

“Of course, sir,” the woman said, practically drooling over the commission, “I can measure her right now if you’d like,”

Daemon nodded and the woman quickly fetched the measuring tape, wasting no time in grabbing your arm to start writing the numbers down, “We need it for the sixth, will that work?”

“I’ll have it done by the first,”

when you were stood at the till beside daemon you were almost sick at the prices, “Daemon you really don’t have to,” you said, gently holding his arm as the sale girl glared at you.

“Nonsense,” Daemon said as he kissed the top of your head and swiped his card like it was second nature, “Besides we haven’t even hit the jewellers yet,”

By the time you had left the mall Daemon had spent the equivalent of a small house on your outfit for tonight with a few surprise dresses. Since you still had to get ready, and it was only five daemon was going to drop you at your house before picking you up again at six. “Where do you want to eat tonight darling?” he asked as he held your thigh in the car, his thumb stroking over your skin, “Anywhere you want,”

“Why don’t we eat in?” you offered, trying to think of anyway to save him some money after the massive shopping spree you had just been on.

Daemon looked surprised before quickly nodding, “Its short notice but im sure Olivia will be able to swing bye and rustle us something- “

“I meant like,” you said, cutting him off, “Why don’t I cook for us? It would be cute, just us,” you said, as you nudged his foot with your own, “intimate even,”

“I think I like the sounds of that,” Daemon said lowly through hooded eyes, the sight alone making your heart race. Luckily, or maybe not so lucky, you were just pulling up to your street. daemon glanced out the window, “lets do it at mine though,” he said.

You laughed at his scepticism as you grabbed the bags of dresses, “Whatever makes you happy,”

“That’d be you doll,” he said, letting go of your thigh before quickly stepping out of the car. As you waited for him to open your door, something he had insisted on doing since you started your arrangement, you were able to collect yourself.

Daemon opened the door for you and helped you carry your bags upstairs, even saying hello to Robb as he left the building. You knew sara would be home by now since you knew she only had a short shift today so you wondered how long she would squeal for when she saw the necklace daemon had bought you. when you finally reached your door daemon paused for a moment, “Im afraid I’ve not got any cash love,” he said as he handed you your bags.

You hummed in fake thought, “I suppose I can take a kiss as payment,”

Daemon chuckled as he leaned down, his hand cupping your jaw to bring you in for a brief but intense kiss, “See you in an hour doll,” he mumbled as he broke the kiss.

“Wish it was then,” you said, opening the door and giving him a small smirk as you stepped backwards into the flat, trying your best to seem seductive.

Weird, you thought, sara wasn’t in the living room. You sat the bags down on the couch before walking towards saras room. She can nap later, you thought. “Sara!” you called, hand on her door handle, “You will never believe what Daemon got-JACE WHAT THE FUCK!” you practically screamed as you opened the door.

Jace scrambled so quickly to cover them both that he fell off the bed, dragging the covers with him. You slapped a hand over your eyes as the pair both scrambled to get under the covers. When you finally looked through your fingers, they both looked mortified. “You said you didn’t like him!” you almost yelled at Sara.

“Yeah, well I lied, okay?!” she yelled back.

“Should I go?” Jace asked, reaching for his shirt.

“No,”

“Yes,”

“Dude!” Sara yelled.

“Dude! I need you to help me get ready,” you said, moving to sit on her bed. Sara was unfazed by how close you were, but Jace seemed to clutch the covers tighter, “Also I need to cook for daemon,”

“You’re a terrible cook,”

“Im not that bad,”

“You burnt water,” she said, glaring at you, “Ugh fine I’ll help,” she said as she moved to grab a shirt before turning back to Jace, “This was amazing babe. Just give me half an hour, an hour tops, and I’ll be right back, okay?” she said, kissing him softly making you fake gag.

A love smitten smile fell over Jaces face as he looked at sara who quickly got dressed. “Okay,” he said like he was in a dream before falling back to lay down.

When you walked into the living room with sara you paused for a moment, “If you break his heart- “you began to talk before sara shushed you.

“I do actually like him,” she sighed, “I caught feelings, I know its weird. But he’s so cute,”

“At least I won’t be alone at the gala,” you said making Sara raise an eyebrow, “I’ll tell you all about it while you do my hair,”

Sara sighed as she shoved you down onto the chair, “Why do I have a bad feeling about this gala?”

If you don't want to read smut you can skip the smut part without the series plot being affected

Part four smut edition here

a/n: so this is offically gonna be a 5 part series now. part 4 will be up tommorow then part 5 a couple days after that so dont worry its almost here i swear i promise

Part four non smut here

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @delicious-xx @pet1t3 @skyesayshi @urmomsgirlfriend1 @dark-night-sky-99 @lantsovheiress @themotherofblood @avalyaaa

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toxic3mmy · 8 days

Note

being like all bratty ( i think that’s the word) and all to Quackity and he ends up fucking the shit out of you?

ummm yes??? this sounds sooooo hot teehee, thx for the request!!

[it turned out a little more loving than rough sex.. oops??]

prompt: you and alex have a project due and he keeps slacking off until he’s had enough of your bratty attitude

warnings: nsfw! smut smutty smuttt!

it was finally 7:30 pm. alex said he would meet you at the college library to finish up your project after work and you had been waiting on him there for almost an hour now. the good thing was that you were alone and had time to focus on your part of the slideshow.

you had about two slides left when you heard a huge thud on the table you were sat at. you looked up and saw alex smiling sheepishly at you.

“sup nerd, you almost done with our project?” he said as he sat back in his chair and kicked his feet up to rest on the table

you rolled your eyes and said with an annoyed face,

“yeah right, come on let’s get this over with already” you grumbled

“actually, shit… i forgot my laptop” alex said while looking through his backpack. he looked up at you and asked

“mind if i go get it? i’m pretty sure i left it at my house and it’s not far from here” he didn’t even wait for me to respond, already collecting his things to go

“wait, maybe we should just do the project at yours… they close the library in thirty minutes anyways” you said, feeling even more annoyed than before because now you were going to be forced to be alone with alex

“cool, let’s go” he walked out of the school and to his car in the parking lot

you felt a bit uncomfortable and nervous as you got into his passenger seat. you weren’t sure why but his very existence got so deep under your skin that it really pissed you off. maybe it was his arrogant personality or maybe it was the way every girl at your college drooled over him, or maybe it was both. the truth is, you also felt an attraction for alex but you refused to be like every other brainless bimbo at school. you liked to think that you actually had taste when it came to guys.

your thoughts were interrupted by alex parking his car and getting out, having you follow him. he unlocked the door to his house and let you in. he got comfortable and led you into an office like room where you assumed he did his homework and probably his streaming. he had a huge desk with a pc setup as well as note taking materials next to the pc. there was also a small couch and that’s where you decided to put your backpack.

“here, i’ll go get a chair for you to sit next to me” alex broke the silence between you too. you nodded silently and took all your notes out to finally finish this project.

“sit” he said as he placed another office chair next to his fancy gamer chair

you chuckled to yourself

“what?” he asked, genuinely confused

“oh nothing… just realized you have a gamer chair.. it’s so uwu of you” you teased him and laughed even louder

“says the one that dresses like an e girl with all those fishnets and eyeliner” he said mockingly

“don’t even! i know you’re not judging my clothing choices when you legit always look like adam sandler plus that stupid beanie you never take off”

“can you shut up? we have a project to work on” alex said in a sarcastic manner

you didn’t say anything in response to him. instead, you went over what you had finished with your part of the project. you then kept talking about some ways for alex to tie his part into yours so that it would all flow seamlessly. you were pointing out certain topics in your textbook when you look up to see alex typing away on his phone.

“dude… are you serious? i was over here talking to the fucking wall i guess! were you seriously not listening to me?”

he simply put a finger up as if telling you to wait for him to finish texting. you waited impatiently and after a few minutes, he finally put down his phone.

“my bad, i have this thing i’ve been working on with team members for our twitch.. but uh yeah of course i heard everything you said.” he lied and it made anger begin to boil up inside of you.

“how much do you even have done?” you asked, trying to calm yourself down

“oh uh.. i have all my pictures set up in the powerpoint” he said as if it were something to be proud about

you grit your teeth together as you realized what he meant by that

“you haven’t even started on your section?? i cannot believe you…” you groaned really annoyed now

“yes i have started! it’s not my fault that i need to do work stuff in my free time” he said as he messed with a pen on his desk

“ohhh, you have a twitch event that you’ve been working on for weeks? aw thats so cool, yeah i seriously don’t give a fuck. you had all semester and you don’t even care! it’s our senior year and uni is something that we need to take seriously i mean this counts towards our final! i don’t want to have to fucking repeat this class just because you’re a careless arrogant selfish piece of shit!”

“woah woah, what the fuck is your issue?!” he began to lose his cool, sitting up and facing towards you as he raised his voice

“you’re my problem! like dude i get that you play your little video games on stream and that seems to be what you worry about most but i actually want to get a good career and i actually care about my grades! unlike you! you think that just because everyone likes you, you’ll get everything handed to you. well sorry to burst your bubble but clicking and clacking on your keyboard all day long isn’t going to prepare you for the real world!”

“who the fuck do you think you are? you have no right to say any of this to me, are you kidding?” alex was now standing up and towering over you

“look… i just had a bad day okay? i worked really early this morning and i honestly would much rather be in bed right now than arguing with you i mean, we’re not even getting any work done! god this is pointless..” you sighed, running your hands through your hair as you felt afraid to look alex in his eyes

“i worked today too, ya know. but you don’t see me being so prissy and uptight about a damn project that won’t even matter in a year.”

“yeah well im sure my work was way more productive and hard than you playing dumb computer games all day”

“listen you little brat, you have no right to tell me anything about my career choices. and for the record, my dumb little twitch job is making me more money each month than youd ever see after years of whatever boring fucking corporate job you get into” alex said, holding you tightly by your t shirt

“yeah fucking right. you’re just a lazy idiot! all you had to do was finish a few slides and we’d be through here and you can’t even do that. i’m leaving, thanks for nothing” you spit out angrily as you hastily began to pack your things to leave

alex was silently in deep thought. as you reached the door, he tugged your backpack back and off of your shoulder. he grabbed you rather harshly and your back was pushed up against his bedroom door.

“you’re not going anywhere. you think you can just walk out of here after insulting me and being a shitty little brat?!”

“what?..” you asked quietly

“you heard me y/n, you’re being a fucking brat.. and brats should be treated the way they deserve” he spoke hotly against your lips before leaning forward and kissing you

you weren’t prepared for him to kiss you so sweetly. you practically melted against his lips. you kissed back until he whimpered and brought you back to reality.

“ugh! get off of me, asshole!” you pushed his chest roughly but before you could make any other move, he caught your arm

“i know you want me y/n, i see the way you look at me. you and every other girl at school are just so thirsty for me huh? look at these tiny skirts you always wear.. you’re just asking for it” he smirked as his fingers danced up your thigh and touched your skirt

“ha! i don’t want you. unlike the girls at school, i have a brain and i sure as fuck would never touch you” you lied to his face

you gasped and felt your face go red as his hand was now touching the fabric of your panties

“then why are you soaking wet for me?” he chuckled as he pulled your panties aside and played with your wet folds

he walked you towards his bed, sitting you down as he hovered over you.

“i fucking hate you!” you angrily smashed your lips to his.

your tongue slid across his lips, asking for entrance. alex greedily let your tongue slide against his. your hands tangled in his hair and tugged harshly as he continued to touch you.

“i hate you too, you fucking brat. now be a good girl and taked this top off for me” his lips connected with yours as you shakily unbuttoned your school top and threw it aside.

you reached out and began to unzip his pants just enough to release his hardened cock. he moaned at the contact and continued to play with your slick heat as you started to move your hands up and down his dick.

he pulled away from the kiss and pulled your hair in a ponytail with one hand and held your palm upwards with his other.

“spit” he demanded and you did what he asked

he then moved your wet hand to his cock and let go of your hair. he went back to rubbing your throbbing clit. you moved your hand and he was practically thrusting into your touch.

“alex… please” you whispered and tried to lead his leaking dick to your pussy but alex stopped you

“aw come on y/n, you can do better than that. you just love to yap and insult me, don’t you, you little brat? why don’t you put that pretty little mouth of yours to good use and beg for me. beg me to fuck you”

at this point, you needed him so badly and you didn’t care how desperate you looked as you complied with his demands.

“please alex, i need you so badly. please just fuck me and i promise to be nicer to you. im so wet for you..” you moaned out as his fingers finally stopped teasing you and entered your quivering hole

“tell me you want me.. tell me y/n” he said in a lustful voice, his fingers curling deeper into you. his lips attached to one of your hard nipples, deliciously tracing circles with the tip of his tongue

“oh fuck.. i n-need you, i want you alex! i’ve wanted you since i first saw you! i hate you so much but i want you to fuck me, please!” you were rutting against his hand needing more

he laughed as he was amused and feeling very satisfied with your response. he stopped touching you completely and undressed himself. he then reached out and stripped you of your shirt and panties, leaving the two of you completely naked.

“you’re so fucking sexy” he said, looking at you hungrily

“get on your hands and knees, show me that pretty ass”

you did what he asked needing him inside of you now. he groaned at the sight of your round ass on view for him. as he pushed himself inside of you, you arched your back from pleasure. he began to move slowly as you adjusted to the stretch. the second you started moaning, he grabbed your hips and mercilessly pounded into you.

“fuck! you’re so tight y/n” his hand made harsh contact with a loud smack on your ass

you fucked back onto his cock, feeling so overcome with pleasure

“a-alex, ‘m so close” you whimpered

he stopped fucking into you and sat up in his bed. he gently tugged you towards him, motioning to sit on his lap

“come ride me, sweetheart” he said huskily and of course, you obliged

you sat on his dick, feeling every inch of him fill you up. you were in complete bliss as you began to ride him slowly. alex leaned forward and hugged you to his body as he kissed your lips. you fought his tongue with yours for dominance as the two of you rocked together in a sweet rhythm.

“you feel so good… so so good alexis” you whispered in broken sobs

“yeah, baby girl? aw just look at you. you’re so needy for me aren’t you?”

you rocked your hips, grinding his cock into you. he was so deep inside of you and you couldn’t help but want more. he hit just the right spot inside of your needy cunt and you moaned loudly. your back arched as you threw your head back in pure bliss. alex kissed up your neck as he had full access. he pulled you closer to him, tucking your hair behind your ear gently

“you’re so beautiful y/n, i could do this forever. would you like that? would you like to be my fuck toy? i could use you whenever i please, yeah? tell me how good i feel, hermosa” he said as he looked into your eyes.

“you feel incredible.. you’re making me feel things i’ve never felt before.. please use me whenever” you said breathlessly

“such a good girl” alex praised, kissing you ever so gently as you continued to move at the same pace together

“a-alex, i’m so close”

“cum with me y/n, cum with me” he whimpered, letting out the sweetest whines and speeding his hips to meet yours

he held your hips still as he fucked into you faster and faster, chasing both of your highs

with loud gasps and moan, you both climax together.

alex slows his pace to a stop and you both catch your breath.

“y/n…?”

“yeah?” you breathe out, finally getting off of alex and laying down next to him

“i finished my part of the project yesterday, i just wanted to mess with you” he grinned and you smacked him playfully

“alex! you ass!”

“hey.. it worked out well for us didn’t it?” he smiled innocently

“come on, let’s shower. im all sweaty” alex says, pulling you up and towards his shower

#alex quackity #alexis quackity #quackity #quackity x reader

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callsignlucky · 2 years

Text

talk to me, lucky (part 2)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 2.3k

a/n: sooooo likeeee i was genuinely expecting like three (3) people to read this. I'm so glad you guys like it, that means the world to me, so I'll continue this little series as long as folks want me to!

This part was purely self indulgent with the goal to make a Pete Maverick Mitchell so dad shaped that it might fix my own daddy issues. (didn't work but a girl can dream.)

Also!! I am purposefully trying not to comment on physical appearance! The reader is female, but her mother is intended to remain ambiguous. There is a lack of accessible fics on this website and want I POC to be able to enjoy this as well!

<- part 1 |part 3 ->

The Hard Deck fell silent as soon as my hand made contact with his cheek. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. All eyes were on us, but the only ones that mattered to me were Bradley’s.

They were as brown and as big as I remember, and he raised his hand to cup his cheek, brows knitted together in confusion as he stared at me. That only served to make me angrier, and I forced myself to take a step back before I hit him again and got myself into actual trouble. He was at a loss for words, and I was afraid if I said anything I’d reveal more of myself to the pilots to our left than I’d like. Without so much as a murmur of an insult, I turned, collected my phone and keys from the table, and made a beeline for the front door. As I was walking away, I heard Lieutenant Seresin laugh, making some quip to Bradley along the lines of what the hell was that about, Bradshaw?

My eyes found Penny’s, who knew and understood and looked at me with sympathy before patting my dad’s arm in goodbye as he slid off his stool. That made me feel rotten. He’d been so excited to reconnect with Penny, and here I was making a scene and ruining his evening. I bet he was thanking God the last name on my flight suit was my mother’s instead of his.

The air outside had cooled since the sun set, and I managed to speed walk down the block to where I parked my car before a hand caught my arm. I didn’t dare turn around, tears hot in my eyes, my heart still in my chest as I held my breath and waited. Much to my relief, the voice that spoke belonged to my father.

“Why don’t you ride home with me? You’re too upset to drive.” He said softly, and I shook my head, feeling more and more like I was nine years old as the seconds passed.

“I’ll walk.” I snipped, chest tightening with guilt at my tone. I was mad at him too, as much as I hated it. I blamed him for Bradley leaving, all those years ago, but I forgave him after a week. My father was all I had left, and I wasn’t prepared to lose him over an action he felt morally obligated to take. And Uncle Ice might have had something to do with me forgiving him so quickly.

Dad sighed from behind me. “You can’t walk all the way back to the house.”

“Who says I’m going back there?” My voice quivered, and even as he gently tugged on my arm I refused to turn around, arms crossed over my chest. The thought of going back to our base issued housing, that completely staged two bedroom home void of memories or light or emotion or Mom was already suffocating. Dad was quiet for a spell, probably thinking, before he inhaled sharply and spoke up.

“Alright, how about we go to the gas station for some slurpees and drink them at the beach?” His tone was light, and I didn’t have to be looking at him to know he had one eyebrow raised with that little smirk on his face. I perked up a little, and he tossed his arms around my shoulders from behind. “How bout it, Birdie? Or are you too grown to hang out with your old man?” He shook me a little, and I rolled my eyes with a small huff, turning in his arms. He had me with my nickname and he knew it, so I mustered the best pout I could.

“Can I get a large?” I asked, and Dad smoothed down my hair gently with a nod.

“Of course.” He stepped back and held out his hand, waggling his fingers and his brows at the same time. I laughed and rolled my eyes, taking his hand, and together we walked to where he’d found a spot to squeeze his bike. Like all the times I’d had before, I waited until Dad had slung his leg over the bike and walked it backwards before I slid on behind him. My arms wound around his middle and I unceremoniously shoved my face into his back, and I could feel him laugh as he eased the bike into a cruise. One hand came from the handlebar and clasped over mine, and I smiled faintly into the leather of his jacket as we picked up speed down the road.

I was one of the luckiest girls alive to have Pete “Maverick” Mitchell as a father. His military career alone opened more doors for my future than would’ve ever been possible without the Navy. Beyond that, he was—in my humble opinion—the best dad ever. Growing up, my father always put me first. He never accepted a promotion that would take him away from me more than he had to be, and after mom died he accepted a position that essentially grounded him so he could stay stateside, sacrificing his love for flying in order to raise his child.

In those years he never missed a ballet recital or softball game or debate competition, and he always made sure I went on whatever field trips my school was carting us off to. He made sure I had nice clothes and nice shoes and a reliable car and always, always made sure I knew how much he loved me.

Pete Mitchell thought I hung the moon from the second the nurse put me in his arms, and it has been that way ever since. He acted like a loving father should and then some, because that love always translated over to Bradley, too.

It was the same with me. Ever since I learned how to talk, some adult would smile at me and ask me what my daddy did for a living, and I’d smile with all my teeth (some of them missing on occasion) and say “My daddy is a hero!”, and I meant it every single time. I still do.

Dad and I ended up on a slice of beach far from the prying eyes inside The Hard Deck. I abandoned my socks and boots and rolled my jeans up before plunging my painted toes—the only femininity females were allotted in the Navy—into the cooled sand. I balanced my cherry Slurpee between my knees, eyes on the moon as it reflected off the water’s surface. Dad and I sat there in comfortable silence for a long while, just listening to the waves crash in.

“Are you mad at me? For slapping Bradley?” I asked finally, my voice quiet, lips wrapped around my straw. To my right, relaxed in the sand, my father shook his head.

“Not angry, just confused.” He pushed around the blue raspberry slush in his cup with his straw, eyes on the horizon, like always. “I’m trying to understand why you hit him. That’s not like you, and Bradley’s the last person I’d expect you to be violent with. When I saw your pictures next to one another in the debrief, I thought you’d be excited to see him again.”

Guilt hit me like the waves I was staring at. “I was, when I found out B and I both got pulled for this deployment. I was even more excited when I found out you were coming too, but that wore off pretty quickly when I remembered Bradley hasn’t spoken to either of us in years.” I set my cup down and leaned forward, hugging my arms around my thighs and watching my toes wiggle free of the sand before burying them again. “He abandoned us. We’re his family and he left, over something trivial.”

“Have you put yourself in his shoes?” Dad asked, and upon receiving my twisted up nose and furrowed brows in response, he took another sip of his drink before setting it aside and lying back in the sand. He opened up one arm and beckoned me forward, and suddenly I was six years old again after a nightmare as I lay down and rested my head on his stomach. His hand slowly began to work through my hair, his other arm propped beneath his head. “The only memories Bradley has of his old man are ones he learned from everyone else. He knew his dad was a pilot, he knew he was a hero, and as soon as he got old enough, he decided he wanted to follow in his footsteps. That remind you of anyone?”

I closed my eyes with a soft sigh, shrugging my shoulders. “No.” I muttered, folding my arms, and my head bounced with my dad’s little laugh.

“Well,” he drawled, twirling some of my hair around his finger, “it reminds me of Little Mav.” I grinned with my eyes still closed, turning my head away so he wouldn’t see. Little Mav was the nickname I had earned from my father’s fellow service men and women. I was his shadow whenever I could be, accompanying him to work with wide eyed wonder, amazed at all the things he could do. Uncle Ice had originated the nickname when he first met me at the ripe age of three, claiming I was twice the ball of energy that my father was and ten times cuter. I had him wrapped around my finger, too, which came in handy years later when my father tried to prevent me from enlisting. He never tried to pull my papers like he did with Bradley, but he did try and talk me out of it more times than I can count. Eventually he accepted the fact that I was determined to be a pilot, just like him, but was afraid my last name would set me back due to his reputation. While he was highly decorated and well respected within the Navy, the last name Mitchell tended to stiffen the spines and lock the jaws of quite a few admirals. So, thanks to our dearest Admiral Kazansky, I was able to enlist under my mother’s last name. I was grateful for it—the last thing I wanted was to be judged based on who my father was. Or worse yet, to be handed things because my old man was Maverick.

“That still doesn’t excuse what he did.”

“Would you have stuck around if I pulled your papers and set your career back as long as I did Bradley’s? Because believe me, I wanted to.” He wasn’t kidding and I knew it because yes, he never tried to have my enlistment papers pulled, but they had caused more than a few arguments before my father (with the help of his wingman) came to terms that I was a grown adult who made my own choices. It scared the hell out of him, having me up in the air, but he wasn’t going to stand in my way and risk losing me. He’d already learned his lesson with Bradley. I lay there quietly for a long moment, feeling my throat tighten up and my eyes sting with the threat of tears.

“He left us.” I murmured, choking out the last word and it was painful. “I…” Two words followed that, ones that I couldn’t force my mouth or my brain to conjure into reality.

“I know.” My father whispered, smoothing his hand over the top of my head with a heavy sigh, and I was so grateful I didn’t have to say it out loud. “That’s why you have to forgive him.”

“I don’t know how.” I whispered, sitting up when my father did and looking back at him. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb swiping away a tear that had escaped, before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“You’ll figure it out, kiddo.” With a grunt he stood, holding a hand down and using it to pull me to my feet. I stooped down and scooped up my shoes and my Slurpee, before an arm was slung around my shoulders and we headed back up the beach. “In the meantime, I’m gonna take you to your car and pay my tab at Penny’s. Don’t wanna get in any more trouble with her than I already am.”

To that I smiled wide up at him. “Ooooh, you have a crush on Penny Benjamin.” I sang teasingly. “Try not to mess it up this time, Pops.” Dad grinned down at me, a look of mock offense on his face as he placed his free hand on his chest.

“Sometimes I think you’re Goose reincarnated.” He mused, and my smile softened. I rested my head on his shoulder, switching my things to one hand so I could wrap an arm around his middle.

“You think he would’ve liked me? Uncle Goose?” I asked quietly, and my dad sighed with a nod, one of those bittersweet smiles on his face.

“Oh, I happen to know for a fact that he loved you.” He squeezed my shoulder and I nodded.

“I’ll have to apologize to him for slapping his son.”

“If Goose is out there somewhere, I’m confident he’d agree that Bradley deserved it.”

I hummed with a slow nod, exhausted. Tomorrow was our first day at TOPGUN, and it was bound to be a big one as I faced the consequences of my action. “I hope Goose is with us. I’ll need him tomorrow.”

“He’ll be there, Birdie.” Dad assured me quietly, and if either of us had been looking up at the night sky, we would’ve seen the shooting star that passed over our heads at my father’s promise.

taglist! :)

love u guys frfr

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw/reader #rooster/reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw/reader #pete maverick mitchell #Pete Mitchell is dad shaped I will die on this hill #rooster top gun #rooster #top gun #top gun imagine #penny benjamin #goose top gun #nick goose bradshaw #tom iceman kazansky

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beth-gvf · 1 year

Text

hush, hush

the one where sam and (y/n) have crossed the line between enemy, friend, and lover.

sam kiszka x female reader

read part 1

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, fingering (f receving), oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex

you had slipped out the front door easily, opting for an irish exit rather than lengthy goodbyes with tipsy friends. when you got outside, you realized you had no idea what sam’s car even looked like. maybe this was a stupid idea. you barely knew the guy. you’d never really spent more than a few minutes completely alone with him.

just as you were starting to second guess yourself, you saw sam rounding the corner of the house.

“c’mon, my car’s over here,” he motioned for you to follow him.

when you caught up to him, he placed his hand on your lower back, walking close to you. you tried not to think about how sweet that was and remember that this was just sex. you couldn’t start feeling things beyond lust for sam kiszka.

his car was parked haphazardly in the grass with all the other vehicles. you stepped into the passenger seat and began to take a look around. it wasn’t a messy car, but it also wasn’t spotless. he had some miscellaneous items strewn about the back, namely a sweatshirt, beanie, and some sheet music.

you didn’t speak on the way to his place. soft rock music played over the speakers as his hand found it’s way to your thigh. he placed it tentatively on your knee first, as if you weren’t about to have sex with him. after a moment, he moved it up further, giving you a light squeeze and rubbing his thumb against you.

sam was right; he didn’t live too far from the party. in just 5 minutes, you were pulling into the driveway of his house. your palms began to sweat as you anticipated the evening ahead of you. what were you getting yourself into? wordlessly, you stepped out of his car and followed him to the front door.

“i’ve never been here before,” you finally broke the silence between you.

“yeah, i know,” he laughed as he unlocked the door.

sam’s place was nothing like you expected. you were anticipating the typical decor of a man in his mid-20s: beer posters, a lone futon, and basically anything but homey. but sam’s entry way was surprisingly classy. dark walls, genuine art, and a bookcase full of trinkets and pretentious books.

sam threw his keys in a bowl and hung his jacket on the coat rack, slipping off his shoes at the same time. you took that as a signal it was okay if you did the same. sam surprised you by grabbing your coat from your hands and hanging it up for you.

“do you want a tour, seeing as you’ve never been here before?” sam shoved his hands in his jean pockets. was he nervous?

“yeah, a tour would be nice,” you smiled. he threw his arm out, gesturing you to move into the house. his hand found it’s way to your lower back once again as he guided you through his home.

“so, living room, kitchen, dining room,” he pointed everything out to you as you walked. he had an open floor plan home so nearly everything was visible from the same viewpoint. “there’s a bathroom over there, and then my music room is in here.”

“it’s not what i expected at all,” you said, running your finger along the shelf of cookbooks in his kitchen.

“yeah, i get that a lot,” he chuckled. “but i don’t know, i just like to decorate.”

you smiled at him, breaking away from his touch to wander around a little more. he let you, just watching as you took everything in.

“do you have a dog?” you asked, picking up a framed photo of him and the cutest dog you’d ever seen.

“yeah, that’s rosie,” he said, walking over. he lit up talking about her. “she’s the best. my best friend.”

“oh yeah? i didn’t know you had a dog,” you smiled softly while he looked at the picture with adoration.

“she’s at josh’s tonight. i wasn’t sure how late i’d be out or where i’d end up tonight, and she gets lonely,” he sighed, placing the picture back on the shelf. “you can meet her next time,”

next time. next. time. he thought there’d be a next time of…whatever this was going to be.

“next time, huh?” you smirked, stepping closer to him.

he stuttered a bit trying to reply.

“yeah, i mean, if it goes well or whatever,” he shrugged.

“are you…nervous, sammy?” your voice was barely above a whisper. you stepped even closer, taking a finger and trailing down his chest. your finger stopped at the top of his abdomen.

“yeah,” he finally breathed out. his sincerity surprised you.

“me too,” you whispered back. you leaned up to look at him, and he bent down to just barely graze your lips.

you decided to be brave and close the gap. your lips melded into his with just a tinge of hesitancy. you both paused for a moment, tenderly kissing each other. it was strange, to be so soft and gentle with sam. you shivered as his hands softly traveled down your side, landing on your hip. he pulled you in ever so slowly.

you crawled your hand up his chest, landing on his shoulder and pulling him as close to you as possible. your kiss deepened and you decided to test the waters ever so slightly. you let your hips grind against his with just a little force. he grunted slightly.

“how about we finish this house tour, upstairs, hm?” sam asked, pulling away. you simply nodded in return, hopeful of what was to come.

he grabbed your hand and pulled you up the stairs, he turned a corner and swung you into his arms. you giggled at the motion, and it had you pressed against his front. he leaned against the wall, kissing you again. one hand pulled your waist in, while the other slipped out to open the door handle.

he gently pushed you off of him just to grab your hand again, leading you inside the bedroom.

he kissed you once more before running over to light some incense. you rolled your eyes at him, both judging his pretentiousness and also finding it endearing. he filed through his incense collection, finding the perfect one, as you took a look around his room, soaking this new side of sam in.

sam fiddled with his lighter, muttering expletives under his breath. you took this moment with his back turned to shimmy your sweater over your head. you silently thanked the universe for pushing you to wear one of your favorite matching sets tonight.

sam finally lit the incense, taking a minute to soak it in. his back was still turned to you, and the anticipation was killing you.

“sam,” you whispered out, trying to get his attention.

he turned to face you and you could see his adam’s apple bounce as he comically gulped.

“cat got your tongue, kiszka?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“fuck, (y/n),” he finally breathed out. he walked toward you slowly as you shifted your weight on your feet. “you look…”

he didn’t finish his sentence before he crashed his lips into yours again. you looped your arms behind the back of his neck, bringing him into you.

he broke away from you, tracing his lips down your neck, licking the evidence of his earlier work. he traced his finger over the lace cups of your bra, getting a closer feel than what he had before. he nipped at the top of your breasts, eliciting a squeal from you. his lips vibrated against your skin, chuckling at your reaction.

you realized his hands had found their way to the clasps of your bra. he fiddled for just a minute, and then looked up at you for permission. you nodded, your mouth gaping open just a little bit.

with a surprisingly little amount of effort, he unclasped your bra, letting it fall down your body.

“not bad, kid,” you quipped as you shimmied it off over your shoulders.

“shut up,” he let out a low chuckle that in the heat of the moment, was nearly pornographic to you.

“make me,” you bit back.

he shut you up almost instantly by connecting his mouth with your nipple. you took in a sharp breath as he sucked and bit in just the right places.

his mouth stayed on your breast for just a bit longer, before it began kissing down your body, kneeling in front of you. soft kisses along your belly started to get lower, landing right above your pelvis. sam looked up at you as he started to unbutton your pants.

“lay down,” he whispered lowly.

you did as told, backing up to meet the bed. as you situated yourself against the headboard, sam slipped his own shirt off and his pants as well. your eyes lingered on the necklaces against his bare chest, and his visible erection through his boxers.

crawling up to meet you, sam’s body hovered over yours. he gave you a long, lingering kiss before trailing his lips down your body once again. in a swift movement, he stripped your pants from your legs, leaving you in just your soaked underwear that were practically clinging to you now.

“you’re so beautiful, (y/n),” he whispered against your thighs.

“thank you,” is all you could muster out, due to the soft kisses he was leaving against your clothed core.

he placed a few more pecks against your cunt before looping his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, ridding them from your body.

you suddenly felt nervous, so naked in front of sam kiszka. instinctively, you squeezed your legs together while he kneeled to slip your panties completely off.

“don’t get shy on me now, (y/n),” he leaned down places his hands on your inner thighs, lightly parting them again.

“i just, i think i’m overthinking things,” you sighed out.

he leaned back down, parting your thighs even more. his body fit in between them, and he began placing kisses along your upper inner thighs.

“talk to me,” he hummed against your thigh.

“just what are we doing? i thought you hated me,” you let the words spill out as sam’s lips grew closer to your core.

“would i be doing this if i hated you?” he asked before placing a kiss directly on your clit. you gasped at the contact.

“no, i guess not,” you chuckled lightly.

“so, may i continue?” he asked, his lips just barely touching you. you looped your fingers through his hair as your reply.

his tongue flicked between your folds, taking in your wetness and drawing soft circles on your clit. he sucked and nipped, causing you to buck your hips into his face. he chuckled against you, making you grip his hair tighter.

you threw your head back in euphoria, letting out soft moans. your chest heaved and you looked down to see sam lapping you up with nearly the same euphoric look on his face. his hips ground into the mattress, obviously trying to get some friction going for himself.

just as you were about to ask if he’d like some relief, you felt sam’s finger thrust inside you. your back arched again, this time as he curled his finger hitting just the right spot.

“sammy, fuck,” you gasped out. “i need more.”

“whatever you say, baby,” he smirked to himself. he placed a second finger inside you, not giving yourself time to process the pet name he just called you.

sam continued to pump his fingers inside you, continuing to suck on your clit. your vision was getting blurry and you felt like the pressure in your lower abdomen was about to let loose.

“sammy, i’m gonna cum,” you let out in between exasperated breath.

“come on, baby. cum for me,” he said, quickening his pace.

it took one last curl of his fingers inside you to send you over the edge. your hands gripped even tighter in his hair as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

he slowly removed himself from you, lifting his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. you laid there, breathlessly coming down from your high, watching him in awe. as he leaned back to rest on his knees, you noticed the obvious wet spot against his crotch. you bit your lip and got onto your knees, crawling toward sam.

your finger traced the outline of his erection, sending goosebumps down sam’s arms.

“ya know, it feels much bigger without those pesky jeans in the way,” you said, looking up at him theough your lashes. you began to palm him through his boxers.

“yeah? why don’t we lose another layer then?” he quickly slipped off the bed, removing his underwear at warp speed.

he stood next to the bed, allowing you to get a full look at the beauty that stood before you. for someone who acted like such a dick most of the time, he sure wasn’t compensating for anything.

you moved forward on your knees, leaning in to fully grasp him. a small moan left his mouth as you swiped your thumb to gather the precum leaking from the tip. the moan encouraged you to swipe a drop off and lick it from your thumb, which earned a breathy “fuck” from sam.

you began to use one of your hands to form a makeshift ponytail and the other to start stroking sam. as you leaned forward, your lips pursed, sam lifted your chin up.

“woah, baby, as much as i’d love to feel your tongue on my cock right now, i don’t think i’m going to last much longer,” he said. you nodded in return, letting your hair back down from your grip.

“are you going to fuck me, sammy?” you asked, leaning back onto the bed.

“i think i just might,” he hovered his body over yours.

just as he began to run his fingers back through your arousal, he stopped himself.

“shit, i need to get a condom,” he muttered, raising himself off of you. you stopped him with your hand.

“sammy,” you said quietly. his eyes softened at this new found name you had for him. “are you clean?”

“yeah, you?” his voice was low and inquisitive.

“yeah,” you nodded back. “and i’m on the pill.”

“are you saying what i think you’re saying?” he lowered himself back on you, and began running his cock along your folds. you moaned lightly.

“please just fuck me already, sam,” you let out.

and fuck you he did. he slipped into you, bottoming out, letting you fully feel him. you both let out a gaspy moan. he sat in you for a moment, letting both of you adjust to the feeling. what followed such a rough entrance surprised you: sammy leaning down to tenderly kiss you.

“you’re so beautiful, (y/n),” he whispered, lips hovering just above yours. “i’ve kinda wanted to do this for awhile.”

“sammy,” you breathed out, as he begin to slow slide out of you.

“you don’t have to say anything to that. i know you hated me or whatever but-“

“sammy,” you interrupted him. “as much as i hate to admit it, i’ve wanted this for a long time too.”

“really?” he asked, sincerity engulfing his eyes.

you nodded back, just as he had finally slid out of you. he leaned down, kissing you much more roughly than before. as he pulled away from your lips, he pushed into you once more. your body had gotten a little more used to his size now, but it still caused a sharp squeal to come out of your mouth.

once he had fully adjusted himself inside of you, sam began pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. he didn’t hesitate to let out little moans, pants, or expletives, all tied in with your name. you loved how vocal he was, and it made you find yourself snaking your hand down to circle your clit.

sam let his gaze follow your wondering hand and when he saw what you were doing, he let out a low grunt. “fuck, you’re so fucking sexy. i’m not sure if i’m going to last very long.”

“that’s ok, sammy. you’re doing so good.” your praises seemed to work for him, a mental note you’d save for that possible “next time.” he began to speed up his pace and you clenched around him, speeding up your own hand’s control of your clit.

the only sounds in the room were of skin on skin and your mutual moans. his necklaces would occasionally bump your jaw as they dangled over you. before he even announced it, you could feel sammy begin to cum. his pace was stuttering and his brow began to furrow.

“cum in me, sammy. i want to feel you,” your voice was barely above a whisper, which was all you could muster as you reached the peak of your second orgasm. as if it was planned, you felt your orgasm wash over you just as sam released himself inside you.

as you both came down from your highs, sam let his body weight completely rest on you, and you accepted it with open arms. you let your hands wander to his back, tracing it up and down with your fingernails.

eventually, sam rolled off of you, letting himself out of you completely. you felt an emptiness without him inside of you, but were quickly reminded by what he left behind.

sensing the situation, sam hopped up from his bed, turning the corner to open the bathroom. he quickly came back with a wet towel, and began cleaning you up. you looked at sam sweetly, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. he chuckled softly at your gesture before throwing the towel in the general direction of the bathroom.

he let his weight fall on top of you again, letting out a satisfied sigh. he began to nuzzle his nose into your neck. you softly pet his hair, while catching your breath and immediately overthinking things. what did this mean now? what would you and sam become after this?

“i have to pee,” you announced, quickly slipping out from under sam. he let out a slight grunt as he hit the weight of the mattress. you practically ran to the bathroom, immediately locking the door behind you.

as you sat there, you tried to mull over every outcome that could come from this, but your mind was still hazy from your orgasms. all you knew right now as that you somehow liked sam and wanted him more than just tonight.

once you were done, you came back into sam’s room, suddenly aware of your nakedness. you were trying to search the floor for your clothes when sam spoke, starting you slightly.

“you can wear these,” he held out a pair of flannel pajama pants and a tshirt. he sported his own pair of flannel pants, that just barely covered his hips.

“sam, i can’t just get in an uber wearing your pajamas,” you looked back down, continuing your search.

“uber? are you…not staying the night?” he reached up to run a hand down his face, seemingly embarrassed.

“you want me…to stay?” you rose from the floor walking over to him, pressing your bare body against him. you trailed a finger across his bare chest.

“i do. i’d like it if you did. if you want to, of course,” he smiled, brushing a hair out of your face.

“i’d like that too,” you smiled, grabbing the pajamas from his hands. he smiled again as he went over to blow out his incense and settle in bed as you slipped the clothing on. you took a moment to take in the scent of the tshirt, once again appreciating how attractive sam smelled.

you joined sam in bed, slipping next to him under the covers. he laid on his back and you curled up beside him, placing your hand on his chest and fiddling with a necklace.

“i already know you’re overthinking this right now, (y/n), but this doesn’t have to be figured out immediately,” he trailed his fingers absentmindedly over your arm as he spoke. “let’s just enjoy tonight, and take it day by day.”

“yeah, you’re right,” you let out a sigh. you almost hated how he could read your mind. “i’m glad we did this tonight.”

he let out a low chuckle. “yeah, me too.”

as you settled into him, your eyes started to drift close, your exhaustion from the evening finally setting in.

“goodnight…kid,” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“oh shut the fuck up,” you laughed, pushing his chest away from you.

“i just had to, felt inappropriate to call you that earlier,” he chuckled, closing his eyes himself.

you brought him closer again, giving him a light pinch to the side, tickling him enough to make him squirm.

“goodnight, sammy,” you finally said, closing your eyes and laying your head on his chest.

“goodnight, (y/n),” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet #gvf #sam kiszka x reader

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katherinezeetajones · 11 months

Text

Home

Andy Herrera x f reader

Summary: Andy got transferred away to 23 after clashing heads with the fire chief, leaving you and the others in 19. Unfortunately for the both of you, you can't be away from each other that long.

Previous parts can be seen in this post

It's been a good six months since the events with your ex happened, and a whole lot more things have happened since then. Andy got transferred to 23 after a debacle with the fire chief—for standing up for Maya, who immediately got demoted after the very same event; and the debris of the fallout also spread to you.

You can't see Andy as often anymore.

But you try your best anyway.

It's a breezy morning, and you wake up alone in your shitty, still sparsely furnished apartment. You promise yourself you're gonna start buying furniture now that you found a reason to stay, but you couldn't find the time or opportunity to.

You get yourself ready, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You don't like the way your reflection look without Andy kissing you, right next to you. You sigh, and get yourself to work.

But not before two stops.

First stop, coffee and bagels.

Second stop, station 23.

You park outside station 23, looking at the dreary building, made to look like a frat boy's dream. You go in without further ado.

You spot Andy, lifting weights inside the gym, her muscles taut but her stare far away, distant and aloof. She spots you from the corner of her eyes, and she put the weights down, eyes immediately lighting up ever so slightly.

"rookie," she walks to where you are, plastering on a smile at the sight of you, but the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"I got you coffee and bagels," you brandish the paper bag, handing it to her grateful hands.

She smiles at you, a little more genuine than the one she flashed before you handed her the food. "Thank you,"

"I'm sorry, Andy," you sigh, looking around at the boys club and how oppressive the air feels. "I'll, I'll find a way to get you back to 19,"

Andy sighs, eating the bagel without much decorum. "Not sure there's anything you can do about it, rookie. I think I blew it,"

"of course you didn't," you assure her, sitting on one of the stacked tires, Andy joining you. "The fire chief had beef with everyone who had smoke,"

"think I shouldn't have supported Maya?" She asks, searching your eyes for the answer.

"you did the right thing. But then again, I'm on your side even if you burned the whole world down,"

Andy chuckles bashfully at the sentiment. "You're so bad for my ego, rookie."

You laugh. You can feel the tension leaving her body, even if just a little. You lean in closer to her, and she puts a finger on your lips, stopping you.

"no, ew, I'm sweaty," Andy rejects your invitation for a kiss, albeit half serious. "My lips are full of bagel crumbs,"

"that's the perfect combination," you assure her. She laughs, and decides to kiss you after all. Her lips taste sweet, a tinge savory from the bagel crumbs, you can feel her melting in your embrace.

But as all good things, it must come to an end.

"ladder 23, aid car 23, requested to..." The alarm rings, making you both sigh. Andy even more so.

Her face falls, her eyes drop. Andy looks at you, the meaning behind her gaze a silent plea for help. "Duty calls,"

She stands up, and you as well. "You'll be back with us soon," you tell her.

She gives you a small, grateful yet disbelieving of a smile before she leaves for the call.

You watch her go, the engines leaving the barn one by one. Soon after, you drive back to 19.

—

"you're late," the new captain, Beckett—everyone's least favorite of all, chides you as you go in through the front. "Third time this week, sugar."

"I gave a notice," you sigh, not bothering to respond to his baby names.

"you visiting your little fire legacy girlfriend over at 23 isn't a good reason to be missing a chunk of the morning shift, sweetheart," he swings back with another baby name, making it hard for you to respect whatever presence he seems to be bringing into the station.

"she belongs here with me—with us," you press on, making your way to the barn as he follows you while nursing a cup of what seems like coffee.

"do your job. Herrera made her choice, and it's a bad one,"

You're irked, that's for sure. But decking your captain in the face isn't a good move, so you shelf that thought and get yourself to folding the hoses, ignoring him.

—

It's been weeks, and you feel Andy pulling away. You've been through this once, you won't go through it again. She needs you, and you can't back down. She needs you, and you know it.

So you knock on her apartment door, one sunday morning, off your shifts.

Andy opens it, still in her loose t-shirt and boxers, not bothering to tidy herself. "Rookie," she said softly, surprised to see you.

"I just, wanted to uh..." You try to come up with words that wouldn't get you sent away...

"come in," she ushers you in before you even finish your sentence.

You sit on the couch with Andy, doing nothing, the TV isn't even on, the bagels you brought untouched. She doesn't look at you, and you don't know what to do.

"Andy," you said softly, taking her hand in yours. "I'm worried about you,"

"I'm okay," she said back to you, not bothering to hide the weariness behind her words. "I'm just... I guess I'm regretting everything now. Being away from 19, from you—"

You hold her in your embrace, Andy warm in your hold. "I'll find... I'll find a way to get you back to your house,"

Andy looks up at you, a little disbelieving. "How?"

"I don't know," you shrug, but your determination is set.

Andy sighs, leans back onto you. She doesn't seem convinced, but she still holds you tight.

The news of fire chief McAlister's resignation doesn't come as a shock to many, but his replacement does.

Natasha Ross.

The first female fire chief, and a woman of color, too!

So you approach her outside the HR building, one sunny afternoon, with an agenda of your own.

"chief Ross," you greet her as she takes her coffee, and she regards you with a curt nod.

"good afternoon," she replies to you, poised and graceful.

"chief, I'm not going to waste your time," you walk in step with her as she goes to her destination, where it is unknown to you. "But the chief before you—mcAlister, he, he put Andy—I mean Lieutenant Herrera in station 23 because of his own ego—"

"...and you want her back in 19?" She asks, accurate as she can be.

"...yes, chief," you nod, seeing no way to fib to her. "23 is a boys' club, it's, ugh, aside from making Andy miserable, it's also a den of hazing, sexist rituals, and the culture overall is so degrading—from what I could tell,"

She looks at you as she sips her coffee, stopping in her tracks. "You know, firefighter. You just solved a big problem for me,"

You raise your eyebrows. "...Huh?"

Natasha gives you a curt nod. "Thank you for bringing that to my attention. I can't promise you anything, but I'll do my best to put Herrera back to 19,"

"uh, that's..." You want to add some more, but she walks past you to her car, leaving you and your unfinished sentence in the dust.

You watch her car go, dumbfounded. "...I feel like I just did something wrong,"

—

Evening, end of your shift. It's been a couple days since you talked to chief Ross about bringing Andy back to 19, but you haven't heard anything so far. And in your little heart, you're relieved nothing happened yet, because you're scared of what might happen... If something does happen.

You get your stuff you need to go back home for the day, and you feel a warm sensation enveloping your whole back.

You lean your head back, and feel someone familiar kissing the side of your neck.

"Andy," you gasp softly, and feel her arms snaking around your hips.

"rookie," she whispers softly behind your ears... Making you sigh quietly. "I have news,"

You turn around to see her, and her face looks as if a ton of weight has been lifted off her shoulders. "What is it?"

Andy hums in excitement, and when she can't contain it any longer, she blurts it out; "I'm coming back to 19, starting tomorrow,"

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Oh my god... What?"

She nods, and hugs you excitedly. "Chief Ross just came by to 23 earlier today, says she's making some adjustments or something, and she reassigned everybody... And I'm going back to 19,"

You hug her back, half nervous at what the adjusments mean. "Andy, that's... That's amazing, I'm so happy—"

She cuts you off with a kiss onto your lips, sweet and excitable. "Sorry, I'm just so giddy right now—"

You hold her hands, smiling. "You have every right to be,"

She notices your face, and gives you a look. "... what's wrong?"

You know better than to lie to Andy...

"I uh... Might have talked to chief Ross the other week about that,"

"about what?" Andy asks, a little miffed.

"...about... The culture of 23... And how I wanted to bring you back to 19," you finish the sentence with a palpable amount of fear of how Andy's going to react.

Andy's face is more confused than anything. "You don't actually think chief is gonna close down 23, do you...?"

You wince...

"I, I'm not sure, I'm sorry..." You shrink yourself, so Andy has no part of you she'll be able to get.

But she gets what she wants.

"so you went ahead and talked to chief Ross about needing me back at 19, without telling me?"

"...yeah," you said as a matter-of-factly. No point wasting words. "...I'm sorry, I think I fucked up,"

Andy quietly gives you a look. She visibly thinks for a moment, and finally speaks. "...you know, rookie... The last time someone went behind my back, it was to steal something from me, to backstab me, but you..."

'please don't break up with me.'

"...you did it for me," Andy looks at you with a touched expression, one that you didn't expect.

"I mean, yeah... I... I know how much this station means to you," you shrug, still expecting something bad to happen.

Andy wraps her arms around your neck, shaking her head. "No, I know... 19 is my home, but... You, rookie... You're my flame,"

You laugh at the sudden poetic waxing. "Oh, wow, your flame? Something that needs to be put out?"

She rolls her eyes, pressing her lips onto you. You welcome it more than anything. Despite being almost the same height, she towers over you, completely overtaking you with her whole being. And you do nothing to stop her.

She parts from the kiss, making you want for more. She presses her forehead against yours, flush. "I love you, rookie."

You're taken aback, to say the least. "You do?"

Andy chuckles. "Don't sound so surprised. It's pretty obvious, we've spent almost three years together. It actually makes me feel kinda bad that I've never said it out loud to you until now,"

It doesn't feel real. "Wow, but that's—"

"but nothing," Andy cut you off, ready to argue. "You deserve the world, rookie—so don't try to sell yourself short by thinking you're unworthy of love,"

You swallow, caressing her cheek with the back of your thumb. "I... I love you, Andy,"

She smiles, and you can feel it from your hand, still on her cheek. "isn't this so romantic? Saying our first ever I love yous near the showers,"

You laugh, a little lightheaded. "There are worse places to say it in,"

"welcome home, Andy."

Andy shakes her head. "No, I... I'm home as long as you're here with me,"

You bashfully smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

She takes your hand, and you let yourself be pulled towards the beanery, to celebrate her return to 19.

And there's no other place you wanna be.

—

Tagging @geekyandgay98

#wlw imagine #station 19 #station 19 x reader #andy herrera #andy herrera x reader #andy herrera x you #andy herrera x f!reader #andy herrera x female reader

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panandinpain0 · 2 years

Text

Told Him...

Part One

Okay, as promised, more to Fisherman's Son- and I'm honestly dragging this plot on its ass because I don't know what the fuck I'm doing anymore-

Mini rant: just got a new job this week and it's kicking my fucking ass. I'm so tired and I just wanted some twilight so maybe this will help. Also- I need to figure out a new writing process- because this shit aint working anymore.

Here ya go-

Fluff Jasper Hale x Male!Reader Part 2

Warnings: Swearing

"OH MY GOD-" (Y/N) shrieked as Emmett and Bella appeared on the sides of his car. They smirked at each other through the window and then shoved their hands into the doors, creating large hand-shaped dents. Not slowing, (Y/N) was still in shock, making incoherent sounds as his car was pulled to a stop by the hot guy's siblings.

Ripping their hands out of the doors, Bella and Emmett stood next to each other by (Y/N)'s car. The other Cullen's joined them as (Y/N) tried to open his door. After it wouldn't, he brought his leg back and kicked it, the door swinging open with the damage Emmett had left at the driver's side.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" he instantly cursed at the group, shutting the door harshly and inspecting the damage. "What did you do to my car?" he practically began to cry on the spot.

"Sorry," Emmett apologized, though his face gave him away.

"You better fucking be," (Y/N) shot back, standing up straight and glaring with the fury of hell in his eyes.

"We'll buy you a new one," Jasper promised, stepping around the car to be closer to (Y/N).

"...No. Nope. This is bullshit. This is batshit crazy. First, you and your family try to get me to look for my dad, and then they can run as fast as my car. And then they can stop my car with their bare hands. The cherry on top is that you just so casually stated you could drop thousands of dollars on a new car." (Y/N) deadpanned at Jasper, and then the group.

Genuinely sheepish now, Emmett and Bella rubbed the back of their necks, awkward smiles on their faces.

The group hadn't realized that in their attempt to make Jasper happy they'd completely disregarded that (Y/N) knew nothing about vampires.

"Do you think it's too soon to tell?" Rosalie asked aloud, looking at the others. There were mixed reviews, but Jasper made the decision himself.

Turning to (Y/N), Jasper took his hand. Confused and tempted to object, but not, (Y/N) inspected him with suspicious eyes.

"(Y/N)."

"...Jasper?"

"My family and I are vampires."

A moment of silence rung as (Y/N) stared at him with a completely emotionless gaze.

Then he let out a breath through his nose, slowly smiling as he started laughing. He was laughing so hysterically, in fact, that he was bent over, one hand still in Jasper's as he tried to catch his breath.

"Wait, wait, wait-" he choked through the laughter- "you expect me to believe that vampires exist?" Saying it out loud caused him to laugh harder.

The other's just stared at him, Alice with clear concern, while Jasper tried to control his reaction to what was happening.

Wiping his eyes from tears of laughter with one hand, the other still in Jasper's grasp, (Y/N) took a deep breath and let it out audibly.

Looking around at the group and realizing they weren't joking, (Y/N)'s jaw dropped.

"...Really?"

Rosalie nodded, arms crossed and a smirk on her face.

Needless to say, (Y/N) saw black.

...

"You told him after knowing him for not even a day?" Carlisle scolded, the sounds muffled by the wall as (Y/N) woke up.

Eyes flickering open, (Y/N) blinked at the harsh lights around him. Standing up from a lavish bed in the middle of the room he gulped with nerves, hypervigilant of everything around him.

"He's awake," Edward warned from the next room.

Everyone walked in slowly, trying to startle (Y/N) anymore than they already had.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) started to talk.

"Where am I?"

"Our house, the Cullen resident. Middle of the woods, remember," Jasper reminded, a fond smile coming on his face. It caught Esme and Carlisle by surprise, seeing him so casual in a way he hadn't been with his own family.

Nodding as he thought about it, (Y/N) sat back down on the bed, fingers running against the soft, dark red blanket.

"Where's my car?"

"Had it towed. Emmett and Alice are out getting a new one as we speak," Rosalie responded, sighing as she idly looked around at the walls. She wasn't in Jasper's room hardly enough.

"What about my stuff?" (Y/N) asked, brow creasing in panick.

Bella pointed to the corner of the room, showing the suitcases and bag of items from the car.

"Okay. Well I guess the rest of my questions involve the... information I was told."

Nodding in understanding, Carlisle pulled up a seat near the bed, looking at (Y/N) at eye level.

"Jasper told you we were vampires, correct?" he started.

"Yeah."

"He wasn't really... supposed to do that," Carlisle revealed, giving Jasper a pointed look. Jasper just shrugged and sat down near (Y/N), who still hadn't stopped his advances.

"Well, he did. What does being a vampire even entail?" (Y/N) asked nervously. The rest of the family bid farewell as they knew the next couple of hours would be explanation and stories.

Jasper took (Y/N)'s hands that were nervously picking at each other and held one in his grasp, fingers gently rubbing across his warm skin.

...

"It's been a while. It's already dark outside. I think it's time you get some rest," Carlisle explained as he stood up.

"I don't want to go back to my dad's house, especially while he's still missing," (Y/N) immediately objected, becoming tense. Jasper rubbed his fingers across (Y/N)'s knuckles and watched as his shoulders slumped back down.

Carlisle gave Jasper a disapproving look for using his powers on him before turning back to him.

"You can stay here, if you'd like. We have a guest room just down the hall, or you can sleep in here."

(Y/N) nodded, thanking Carlisle and watching him walk out.

"Do you want the guest room?" Jasper asked gently, looking at the side of (Y/N)'s face.

"No... I think I want to stay in here."

Jasper gave him a small smile and moved so that they were facing each other, crisscross on the bed.

"Well, since you know all about me, I want to know about you," Jasper said with a half smile, eyes gleaming.

"I don't know all about you, though. I know all about you being a vampire, but nothing else," (Y/N) corrected, watching Jasper play with his fingers.

"What else is there?" Jasper jokingly responded, doing a double take as he saw (Y/N) glare.

"What do you mean, 'What else is there'? I want to know you. Not what you are. Like... what's your favorite color? Or... favorite food? Oh, well, I guess you don't eat anymore. Wait- if you don't sleep why do you have a bed?" (Y/N) suddenly realized, looking around at the bed he sat on.

"It's still nice to lay down and close your eyes, even if you can't sleep," Jasper explained, a faint smile on his face. "Fine, I'll tell you about those things, but we have to take turns. I say mine, you say yours, deal?"

"Deal," (Y/N) smirked back, leaning forward as if drawn physically to Jasper.

...

Esme walked in a few hours later with a plate of food for (Y/N), stopping with a bright smile as he saw the position they were in. They had moved to the couch by the window, both looking out it. (Y/N) laid between Jasper's legs, head on his chest. Jasper was playing with (Y/N)'s hair, rubbing his back as they quietly talked to each other.

She left the plate on the table next to the door quietly and left the two alone.

End

Welp, there ya go everybody who wanted this! I hope that was an okay ending, I was feeling comfy today and really really REALLY want to be in this situation. Sadly, vampires don't exist and I don't live in Forks Washington :')

-Author Max <3

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #jasper hale #jasper hale x male!reader #jasper hale x reader #x he/him reader #gay mlm #fluff

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soft-bellied-tannies · 7 months

Text

Date Night Debauchery

The first post of Chubtober is a gift for my lovely friend, Cherry.

Read here or on AO3!

---

“Hey Hobs, do you want to go out with us tonight? You can bring Yoongi, we would love to see him again. It’s been so long!” Jimin asked with a hopeful expression.

His co-teacher at the dance academy rarely went out with them and they had only ever met Hoseok’s partner, Yoongi, a handful of times. The last time they saw Yoongi was nearly two years ago when Hoseok had started at the academy and the pair accepted invitations to welcome dinners.

Jimin was very understanding and kind every time Hoseok mentioned that Yoongi was quite introverted and didn’t enjoy going out much. He would simply say that his partner, Jungkook, was similar and he hoped the couple knew that the invitation was always still there if they wanted to accept.

Hoseok shook his head and honestly did look a little dejected. Jimin was a difficult person to say no to considering how genuine he always was. “Sorry, Min-ah, you know Friday night is date night. Maybe another time!”

“Okay, have a good night! We’ll have a drink for you!”

Sending them a parting wave, Hoseok hightailed it to his car. He had a few errands to run before he went home including picking up dinner. Making quick work of his pit stops, he was pulling into their driveway just thirty minutes later.

Although he sometimes thought about taking Jimin up on the offer to go out, Friday nights with Yoongi were not something Hoseok ever wanted to give up. Uninterrupted time with his partner was always a priority, but over the past two years, the activities they partook in on date night had changed for the better in both their opinions.

“Yoon! I’m home!” Hoseok called out, waiting to see if he would get an answer. When he didn’t, he smiled and carried his bags into the kitchen. Yoongi loved a good nap after work so Hoseok never really questioned if he was taking a nap, just where he had ended up dozing off.

After putting his haul away and separating their takeout into portions, Hoseok walked into the living room to find his partner just waking up from his sprawl on the couch as expected. Yoongi’s comfortable work-from-home outfit left little to the imagination, not that Hoseok minded the opportunity to ogle his partner’s evergrowing soft frame.

Hoseok knelt beside the couch and placed a hand on Yoongi’s plump cheek. He moved his thumb back and forth for a moment, excited for what the rest of the night held for them. “Hi, baby.”

“Hey, how was your day?” Yoongi asked as he struggled a bit to sit up. He tugged his shirt down that had ridden up during his nap, a small strip of skin still visible at the bottom even after his adjustment.

“Great, my seniors finally hit their routine and Jiminie and I came up with cool choreography for our new group. How about yours?” Hoseok replied, running a hand up and down Yoongi’s soft thigh - squeezing every now and then because he couldn’t resist sinking his fingers into his boyfriend’s skin.

Yoongi shrugged and pouted his lips for a kiss before answering. “It was fine. Got a new set of lyrics finished with Joon and I picked up a new project from a group that is trying a new dark concept that I’m really into. Also, we need more peanut butter and ice cream sandwiches.”

Hoseok nodded with a laugh. “Got it, I’ll add it to the grocery list. Ready for dinner?”

“Absolutely, I’m starving,” Yoongi answered, patting his stomach and looking up at Hoseok who was now standing. “Did you get extra cheese?”

“Of course, babe, I know your order by heart,” Hoseok said before heading to the kitchen, collecting the pizza boxes and extra add-ons like his salad and Yoongi’s cinnamon sticks. “You want beer or coke?”

Yoongi gave him a little shy smile as he accepted one of the pizza boxes. “Both, please.”

Hoseok kissed his forehead, watching as Yoongi grabbed the first slice and the edge of the box rested on the top of his stomach. His boyfriend was already to the crust when he got back with their drink selections. “Want any of my salad, Yoon?”

Letting out an amused laugh, Yoongi shook his head while his mouth was full of the majority of his second slice. “I’m good, Hoba.”

Cracking open one of the Coke cans, Hoseok handed it to Yoongi and warned him, “Here, babe, make sure you don’t choke.”

Yoongi accepted the drink, chugging down half before going right back into his pizza. The box was now beside him on the couch, pizza in one hand and Coke in the other while they both rested on his stomach. “They kind of skimped on the bacon this time.”

Hoseok leaned over to inspect the pizza and he did have to agree, they went a little light on the toppings. “Yeah, they did, that’s annoying. Want me to go grab some of ours?”

“Yes, please,” Yoongi responded with another sweet smile that had Hoseok ready to give him anything he ever wanted. He watched as his boyfriend let two handfuls of bacon bits rain down on what was left of his pizza before thanking him. “Mmm, much better. Thanks, jagi.”

Hoseok then let Yoongi work on his pizza while he ate his salad and found something to watch. His boyfriend was starting on slice number six by the time Hoseok opened his pizza box which he knew would become Yoongi’s soon anyway.

One pizza was nothing for him these days so Hoseok grabbed two slices for himself and put the box next to Yoongi so he could move seamlessly onto the next pizza once he finished his own.

“Hey, babe, can I get another drink?” Yoongi asked after draining the can of Coke. Hoseok immediately had a can of beer open for him and, without missing a beat, he opened another as he knew that Yoongi always chugged the first beer in one go no matter how far in they were.

Letting out a belch after downing his beer, Yoongi excused himself and accepted the second can. He kissed Hoseok on the cheek and absent-mindedly rubbed the top of his stomach for a brief moment, taking a quick measure of how full he was and determining that he had plenty of room left.

Hoseok smirked when he noticed Yoongi spread his legs a bit and recline into the cushions. If he was getting comfortable on the couch, that meant he was planning on really going for it - ready to be stuck for a while instead of keeping it light enough to waddle off to bed when they were done.

Reaching over to give Yoongi’s stomach a gentle prod, Hoseok followed it with a few encouraging smacks. “Come on, Yoon, it’s going to start getting cold soon. You hate cold pizza.”

Yoongi sighed, knowing that his boyfriend was right, and dug back in. He handed his beer to Hoseok and grabbed two slices, stacking them on top of each other and getting them down in what felt like seconds. After picking up the last slice of his pizza, he tossed the empty box onto the coffee table and pulled Hoseok’s closer to him.

“Good job, baby,” Hoseok whispered, followed by a firm squeeze to Yoongi’s still-soft underbelly. “You have more after the pizza and I’m feeling a little impatient tonight. I might have to start feeding you myself soon.”

If anything, that was more encouragement to slow down because Yoongi loved it when Hoseok fed him, but he, at least, needed to finish the pizza before handing over his control. He started in on his boyfriend’s pizza, realizing it would be easier to get down since it was simple pepperoni instead of the meat lovers he had just put away.

Hosoek wondered if Yoongi had taken it easy during the day because he was actually maintaining a quick pace, going against the persistent teasing that had been happening. As he thought about it, he concluded that he couldn’t have gone that easy because there were at least four ice cream sandwiches left when he grabbed ice from the freezer that morning and now they were gone.

By the time Hoseok had finished his salad and a couple of slices, Yoongi only had two left from the second pizza and his clothes were starting to look a little uncomfortable. “Finish that pizza, Yoon, and then I’ll help.”

Yoongi simply nodded and continued powering through, grabbing the last two slices and wolfing them down as fast as possible. The waistband of his sweatpants was cutting into him and he wanted Hoseok to take over - reaching a level of feeding fatigue even if he definitely had room left to eat more.

Slipping one hand beneath the tight band, Hoseok pulled it below Yoongi’s heavy belly. He moved his hands under the tight t-shirt to travel up from the soft underside across his midsection until he reached the crest of his now taut stomach, giving it an inquisitive press that brought a rumbling moan from his boyfriend’s chest.

“There you go, baby. Much more comfortable, you just need more room, right?” Hoseok said teasingly, watching as Yoongi’s belly spread into his lap when he finally removed his hands.

With that, Yoongi’s reprieve had ended as he watched Hoseok grab a bag from the restaurant and turn it over to dump out the contents. He wasn’t even sure how his boyfriend managed to get a bag full of icing cups for one order, but he would never complain about it.

There was clearly enough to have one cup with each cinnamon stick which is exactly how Hoseok fed it to him. It was sickly sweet, but Yoongi couldn’t say no to the indulgent dessert. Part of him wished they saved a bit of the savory stuff to alternate bites, although Hoseok’s pace didn’t really allow for breaks anyway.

After the fourth one, Yoongi simply gave into his partner’s control. He opened his mouth and ate what he was given without hesitation - reclined heavily into the couch cushions with his hands on his very full stomach until the dessert box was empty and it felt like every inch of his stomach was lined with cream cheese icing.

Yoongi hadn’t even realized the steady stream of cinnamon and sugar stopped until Hoseok’s prodding hand was back on his stomach, finding very little give in his taut skin. He always ate a lot, especially at his boyfriend’s hand, but Yoongi felt absolutely beached tonight - dough and cheese with a bunch of sugar on top filling his stomach to the brim.

“You okay, babe? You’re looking rather full,” Hoseok asked quietly as he continued his gentle massage of Yoongi’s bloated stomach. He knew Yoongi would answer with moans and groans for a little while, digesting his massive meal.

This was Hoseok’s favorite part. That pride in seeing his handiwork on Yoongi’s frame, feeding his boyfriend into temporary immobile bliss. They could gladly spend hours this way - Hoseok manhandling and teasing Yoongi while he just let all the sensations overwhelm him.

“Jiminie asked me to go out for drinks again. I keep telling him Fridays are date nights and he always offers for you to come, to see everyone again.”

Yoongi made a small sound of embarrassment for two reasons. One, knowing where this conversation was headed, and two, from the gurgling sound of his stomach every time Hoseok pressed on a sensitive area.

“Imagine what they would think of you now, baby. They haven’t seen you since I joined the studio and they see all those college pictures on the wall in my office. Remember how much smaller you were back then? Would they even recognize you? What happened to my little college basketball player, hmm?”

The moan Yoongi let out was his only answer, throwing his head back against the couch as Hoseok moved to straddle him - fighting his distended middle for space. The arousal overpowered the shame from his partner’s humiliating words. He could only imagine the look on Hoseok’s coworkers’ faces if they saw him again, especially Jimin whom Yoongi matched in stature two years and many, many pounds ago.

Hoseok’s hands continued their caress of Yoongi’s belly as he placed random kisses on his partner’s exposed neck. He leaned forward slightly to rest more of his much slighter weight on Yoongi’s middle, bringing yet another guttural moan out of the bigger man.

“You finished everything so fast, ate like a starving man when we both know you are never starving these days. I wonder how many snacks you pack away while I’m gone. Seems like there is something new on the grocery list every day.”

Yoongi was a non-verbal mess as he often became under his partner’s attention. He was convinced that Hoseok had the ability to cast some sort of spell over him, convincing him to melt under dedicated hands and intense words.

“We still have time to go meet up with them, could get all dressed up and go out, but we both know that’s not happening since you wouldn’t be able to get off the couch by yourself. You can’t even fit this gut in your sweatpants right now. Putting jeans on would be a nightmare.”

Hoseok was excitedly anticipating Yoongi’s response as it normally went one of two ways on nights like this. He would either completely agree and let Hoseok have his way with him or he would find a little resolve to argue back. Hoseok loved when Yoongi argued back.

“I can get up just fine, thank you very much,” Yoongi mumbled, cheeks pink from both the heat of the moment and his partner’s endless teasing.

With a raised brow, Hoseok climbed off Yoongi’s lap and he let out a disbelieving laugh. “Alright, big guy, let’s see it then.”

Yoongi huffed in response to the nickname and the demand. He knew better than to challenge Hoseok and based on how much effort it took to attempt the first scooch forward, this was going to be a difficult attempt. All that food was heavy in his stomach, pushing both up and out in a way that made breathing a little tough and bending forward impossible.

Rocking back and forth a few times, Yoongi stood slowly while using the little bit of momentum he built up. It took all of his strength to push past the wave of heartburn that rippled up his throat as he stood, a deep belch being forced out from the pressure on his middle. He let out a low breath, trying to hide the amount of effort it took.

“See, per…perfectly fine,” Yoongi huffed, trying to act naturally as if his body was begging for him to collapse back into the cushions. He tugged his shirt back down around his distended middle as far as it would reach and rested his hands on his hips, pretending that his stomach didn’t feel like a lead weight hanging off of him.

The necessary arch of Yoongi’s back to support his overfilled belly only pushed it farther forward, testing the limits of his already snug shirt. After a few more heaving breaths, he felt balanced enough to stay standing, but Yoongi knew that anything more than that would require assistance and at least another hour of digestion time.

Hoseok laughed and palmed the underside of Yoongi’s bloated stomach, giving it a gentle shake. “Well, clearly I haven’t fed you enough if you are ‘perfectly fine’. Sit down, baby, I’ll be back, and don’t even think about touching yourself.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened as he heard the no-nonsense tone from Hoseok. He already felt ready to burst and he made the mistake of mouthing off to his partner. Tonight was far from over now.

Part of Yoongi wanted to push it even more, maybe taking off his shirt or refusing to sit down, but he was already in for a little pain before his pleasure and that was enough for him. He fell back onto the couch with a heavy thud, groaning at the poor choice on his part - a sudden hit of nausea overcoming him with the jostling of his full stomach.

Yoongi closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, resetting himself and preparing for the next round of food as if he hadn’t just put away eighty percent of their takeout order himself. Friday nights were always interesting, but he loved when Hoseok got a little mean, giving up all his control to his typically sunshiny partner.

When Hoseok walked back into the living room with the unopened quart of vanilla ice cream and a bag of honey butter chips, Yoongi was confused. This was not a normal choice for his partner - ice cream obviously, but what was the point of the chips?

Hoseok set the container of ice cream on the coffee table out of Yoongi’s reach and held out the bag of chips for the other to take. As he took the bag from his partner’s hand, Yoongi realized that there was a certain item missing from Hoseok’s haul - a spoon.

Before Yoongi could ask any questions, he was given new instructions that made his eyes widen. Hoseok was full of surprises apparently.

“Okay, big man, since you are feeling so confident tonight, you earned a little prize for yourself. You are going to eat those chips, keep yourself nice and full until this ice cream melts and once it’s ready, you are going to drink the whole thing, got it?” Hoseok explained as he stood in front of the couch, hands on his hips with a look of absolute seriousness on his face.

Yoongi felt a shiver run down his spine at the tone of his partner’s voice. It had been a while since they had a night like this and thankfully he was sitting because this side of Hoseok always made him weak in the knees.

“Yeah, got it.”

“Mhmm, what was that?” Hoseok asked with a smirk.

“Yes, sir, I understand.”

“Good boy.”

Yoongi did everything he could to hold back the moan threatening to fall from his lips. The ask alone made him motivated, but the tone of Hoseok’s voice was nearly enough to send him over the edge untouched.

Without further hesitation, Yoongi opened the bag of chips and put three in his mouth, ready to work through the bag like it was his job. He had to ignore the fact that his stomach was not on the same page as his mind. His body was screaming at him to be done with sweetened carbs for the night, but Yoongi had certainly trained his stomach at this point to persevere.

He was desperate to have Hoseok’s hands back on him, but Yoongi knew that he wouldn’t get that until the ice cream was gone. That was the trade-off for being mouthy even if it was incredibly worth it in the end.

Yoongi couldn’t help but smirk at Hoseok looking as if he could barely restrain himself from jumping back into Yoongi’s lap - well, whatever room was left for him. He simply continued pushing through the bags of chips, focusing on following all of Hoseok’s rules.

Completely unaware of how much time had passed, Yoongi startled when his hand met the bottom of the now-empty chip bag. He looked up to find Hoseok’s amused expression looking back at him.

“So greedy you didn’t even realize you ate the whole bag,” Hoseok teased while taking the empty bag out of his hand. “I gave you enough time to pace yourself for the ice cream to melt and yet you just can’t help yourself.”

Yoongi felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment before it shifted to a bit of discomfort. It was like the entire bag of chips hit his stomach all at once since he had zoned out through tearing through it.

Letting out an involuntary groan, Yoongi leaned back and his hands found his stomach - his incredibly tight stomach. The pure amount of cheese, sugar, and grease fighting for room would be concerning if he didn’t absolutely love how full and fattening it felt.

“So full…” Yoongi groaned as if he had any chance of stopping Hoseok’s plans. He was the one who brought this on himself and the pain of pushing through was always worth the reward in the end.

Hoseok dropped onto his knees beside Yoongi considering his lap especially was lacking room for him to take his usual spot. He ran his hand up from Yoongi’s soft hip until he drummed his fingers across the taut crest of his partner’s overly full stomach.

“I bet your ice cream is all melted now, baby.”

Yoongi felt packed so full that the thought of ice cream, melted or not, on top of everything else made him a bit nauseous, but the arousal of knowing that he could be more full with Hoseok’s hands all over him outweighed any feeling of sickness.

“Can you do it?” Yoongi asked, certain that Hoseok would be nothing but excited at the request.

Hoseok grabbed the container with a smile and carefully removed the lid, not wanting to spill a drop. “With pleasure, darling.”

The anticipation sent a low heat through Yoongi’s groin, hoping that Hoseok would be ready to do all the work considering he felt glued to the couch before the ice cream that was about to sit at the top of his stomach.

Yoongi felt the cold condensation on his bottom lip as Hoseok held the container up to his mouth. He was the farthest thing from hungry, but his mouth still watered like he hadn’t eaten in days.

Although it was melted, the ice cream was still thick and cold as he started to drink - no reprieve from Hoseok as he held the container at a steady angle. The chilled liquid relieved some of the pain in his stomach at first until chugging reminded him just how little room he had left.

The sugar-filled cream quite literally had nowhere to go except sit directly on top of his stomach. Every swallow felt like it was pushing Yoongi’s stomach farther than it had ever been pushed before. He was familiar with the feeling of going over his limit, but it had been quite a while since he felt that pinch in his side telling him to stop.

Hoseok, ever observant, seemed to notice and gave him a little break - eyeing the bit of cream that dribbled down Yoongi’s chin as he did. He leaned in to lick it up slowly, enjoying the intimate taste of his partner. “Almost as sweet as you, sugar.”

That sent Yoongi right back into a state of nonverbal mess, just able to moan in response as he was desperate for more. More of what? He didn’t even know. Possibly Hoseok’s touch, but now, Yoongi wanted nothing more than to prove how good he was even if his body disagreed.

At the moment though, he genuinely needed a break. The pinch in his side was slowly becoming a cramp. His breathing was felt quicker simply because he feared a deep breath may cause him to pop.

Hoseok noticed Yoongi’s intentional breaths and smirked, wondering if he needed a little help digesting. He palmed Yoongi’s swollen belly and jostled it side to side. Yoongi immediately grabbed his partner’s hand in a tight grip, giving a silent signal that he could not handle the movement.

The last thing Yoongi wanted was to tap out and shaking his stomach would certainly make that happen. Seeing the way Yoongi’s eyes were closed as he breathed through the moment, Hoseok instantly got the hint and started running his fingers through his partner’s hair - peppering Yoongi’s face with soft kisses.

Yoongi couldn’t help the relieved and endeared feeling that filled his chest as Hoseok was fully in tune with him, switching his touches to tender caresses. They may both love the intensity and teasing, but respect and care for each other were always going to be the priority.

Hoseok brought his lips to Yoongi’s ear, kissing his neck just below and whispering, “Tell me what’s going on, baby.”

“Just needed a break, I promise.”

“You sure?”

Yoongi started nodding, not wanting to lose the incredible direction of their “date night” as he had looked forward to Friday nights every single week. “Want to finish…please.”

Hoseok smirked once again, leaning back and holding Yoongi’s plump cheeks in his hands. “My good boy, such good manners.”

Yoongi involuntarily moaned in response to the praise, always reaching a point of uncontrollable desperation at this point of the night. He would be embarrassed if Hoseok didn’t love it. His moan, however, was cut off by the container once again finding his lips.

Opening his mouth and leaning his head back against the couch, Yoongi watched in satisfaction as Hoseok’s eyes lit up. The container was tilting up in an instant, now angled higher as the cold yet melted cream poured into his mouth at a much higher pace.

Yoongi never knew how Hoseok was capable of pushing his body past what he thought were his limits. It’s as if Hoseok’s praise and touch alone increased his stomach capacity.

Seeming to go into another place mentally, Yoongi ignored everything except Hoseok’s warm hand on his belly and gentle praises in his ear. The second half of the pint was gone faster than the first, but it made itself just as well known.

When Hoseok pulled the contained away, he saw every bit of Yoongi’s pleasure and pain - well aware that they had gone farther tonight than they had since close to the beginning. He didn’t know why since it was just a normal Friday night for them, but something was in the air that night.

Yoongi finally opened his eyes as he was missing Hoseok’s touch, confused as to the long pause. Usually, his partner would have been back on his lap and starting to get into his pants by now.

To Yoongi’s surprise, Hoseok was in front of him with his phone out, apparently taking photos. The blush once again returned to Yoongi’s cheeks when he saw the pride on Hoseok’s face which was honestly deserved considering the work his partner had put into feeding him up.

Without another warning, the photos were the farthest thing from Yoongi’s mind as Hoseok dropped to his knees in front of the couch and pulled the offensively tight fabric from Yoongi’s torso.

After his shirt was pushed up to his chest, Yoongi expected Hoseok to move on to fight with the tight waistband of his sweatpants, but he was surprised by the warm sensation of Hoseok’s lips on the sensitive skin of his belly.

Yoongi felt heat rise through his body when Hoseok dedicated himself to worshipping the angry pink lines across Yoongi’s pale middle. As if he weren’t covered in enough marks, Yoongi knew that his belly would be covered in a spread of sweet purple love bites to accompany his variety of old and new stretchmarks.

Between the sudden nips from Hoseok’s teeth followed by the soothing open-mouth kisses, Yoongi could form no words. He sat heavily, melting into the couch cushions as he panted through the barrage of sensations from his partner.

Yoongi’s hand found Hoseok’s hair and grabbed a handful, tugging slightly in a nonverbal attempt at reprieve. Before pulling away, Hoseok spent another ten seconds on the same spot he had been focused on, ensuring that a dark bruise would be left behind.

Hoseok couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his face when he saw the absolute deshelved state of his partner. Yoongi was clearly trying and failing to keep it together and Hoseok loved being the one to cause that.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Hoseok asked so sweetly as if he wasn’t just ravishing Yoongi’s array of stretch marks.

Yoongi huffed and let his head fall back against the couch again to continue trying to collect himself. “Babe, if you keep going, I’m going to cum in pants like a teenager.”

Hoseok laughed brightly, not expecting that response before bringing his expression back to an even more mischievous smirk. “Well, Yoon, that sounds like I’m doing my job correctly.”

It seemed that Yoongi’s break was over as Hoseok’s hands sunk into his still taut belly and his lips found a new mark to focus on. He was immediately worked back to the edge of release as if they hadn’t taken a break at all.

At that point, Yoongi knew better than to fight it and let himself fall into the bliss of Hoseok’s affection. He let the moans reverberate through his chest freely and melted into the soft couch. His hands found Hoseok’s hair once again, but this time in an encouraging, loving touch rather than a resistant one.

Hoseok’s teeth scraped against Yoongi’s skin once again sending a shiver up his spine. His soft thighs instinctively tightened around his partner’s body that was still knelt between his legs. Hoseok blew a soft, cool breath across Yoongi’s flushed, warm skin spreading chills across his body.

Pleasure was not a new sensation to Yoongi, but he certainly loved when Hoseok got creative in how to give it to him. Another strong grip of his thick sides was followed by a strong bite to one of his newer stretchmarks, the skin incredibly sensitive to the touch.

Yoongi barely registered any pain at this point, just the hefty weight of his middle becoming less and less apparent with the impending release of the tension between them. He turned his face to the side and buried his chin into the cushion, finding a place to muffle his growing whines that accompanied his strung-together moans.

Hoseok’s hand suddenly gripped his plump chin and brought their lips together as his other hand trailed down Yoongi’s belly, fighting slightly with his stretched-thin waistband until he could finish what he started.

All that could be heard throughout their open living room was a final sobbing groan from Yoongi before labored breathing and Hoseok’s gentle whispers of praise were left. Neither knew how much time had passed when they finally separated enough to finally look at each other, and then promptly burst into laughter.

“Well, this night has gone better than I even planned,” Hoseok said lightly, following it with a much sweeter kiss than his previous.

Yoongi simply nodded and let his head fall back to his partner’s shoulder. “God, I’m exhausted.”

Hoseok chuckled again as he nodded. “I can imagine. You have a lot of calories and a good orgasm working against you.”

It was Yoongi’s turn to laugh since he really couldn’t disagree. What he could disagree with was the fact that Hoseok held his hands out to offer Yoongi help up as if that was something possible at the moment.

“Hoba…jagiya, if you think I’m getting up any time soon, you are mistaken.”

Hoseok did laugh, but Yoongi also saw the challenging look in his partner’s eye. “You need to get out of those pants at the very least, but we both could use a shower before bed.”

Yoongi continued to look at Hoseok as if he were insane until he let out a deep sigh and finally brought his shirt back down to a slightly more acceptable place than bunched up under his arms. Although, his still very full belly made it more of a crop top than a full shirt.

“15 minutes?” Yoongi asked, knowing he didn’t stand a chance bargaining against Hoseok.

“Oh, sure, I can get you a little snack for your break too,” Hoseok responded, pointing over his shoulder to the kitchen.

Yoongi groaned and held out his hands with an almost pitiful look on his face, knowing that was not an empty threat from his partner. “You are such a menace.”

Hoseok could only laugh once more as he grabbed Yoongi’s hands and braced himself to help his heavy partner off the couch. He watched fondly as Yoongi wiggled to the edge of the couch cushion, mumbling about how he was going to be so bloated in the morning - as if that was a new thing for Saturday mornings.

Once he was up, Yoongi felt Hoseok’s hands immediately wrapping around him from the back as his partner started to direct them down the hall to their bedroom. The walk was slow and slightly embarrassing as Hoseok commented on Yoongi’s ambling waddle to accommodate his stuffed belly.

Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to actually feel any shame when all the comments were followed by the gentlest kisses to his neck and cheeks just as they were every time they made that walk from the living room to the bedroom.

No matter how far Hoseok pushed him, Yoongi always loved date night.

#soft bellied tannies #bts weight gain #chubby bts #bts feedism #chubby yoongi #feeder hoseok #sbt chubtober

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hughes43 · 1 year

Text

trevor zegras - meet me in the hallway

A/N inspired by the song meet me in the hallway

this also unintentionally follows on from gold rush and dress

I just left your bedroom

Give me some morphine

Is there any more to do?

You couldn't count the number of times this had happened. It was routine by this point, a sick sequence of events that you couldn't help but be a part of. Trevor would send you a text, asking if you were free, or sometimes getting straight to the point and saying he was on his way to your place. You would deliberate letting him in your front door, but in the end, he would always win - you always struggled in resisting him. The two of you would spend hours together, bodies close and wrapped in thin sheets. He never stuck around though, always making an excuse to leave, and every time you saw his car lights disappear down the street you would swear it was the last time.

It never was. He would come around a few days later, and the cycle would repeat.

You were an observant girl, you knew that he was more likely to come around after a bad game, which as of recently, seemed to be every game. He would come over after the loses, the games where he ran his mouth a bit too much or the ones where he kept off the score sheet. And while he made you feel good in certain respects, sometimes you couldn't help but feel used, like you were there to numb his pain and make him feel good. You would whisper kind words to him, and validate him in whatever way you could, but he rarely did the same to you.

You weren't sure what brought the thought on, but when you did the usual round of goodbyes and sternly told him that there won't be a next time, you meant it.

Just let me know I'll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I'll be on the floor, on the floor

Maybe we'll work it out

He let out a soft laugh when you told him he won't be coming over next time. “We both know that isn't true” you let out an annoyed breath. “No, I mean it. I don’t want this anymore”. The cocky grin never left his face, furthering your annoyance. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off “You make me feel like shit, Trevor. We're done”. If he was going to say anything, you would never know, the door was promptly shut in his face. He stayed out there knocking, trying to get you to open the door, trying to get you to talk. He even tried calling you but all of his efforts fell upon deaf ears. You don't actually know how long he stayed outside, after about 10 minutes, you started to almost feel sorry, so before you did something regrettable, you turned your phone off had had a long shower in an attempt to forget about him.

When you did turn your phone on the next morning, all the missed texts and calls came flooding in, you only briefly looked at them, it was the last unread text on your lock screen that grabbed your attention.

When you're ready to talk I’ll listen.

The text seemed so sincere, so genuine almost like he actually cared. It was almost too good to be true, and it almost got you. You typed out a few different responses, and all of them seemed remorseful for shutting him out like that. Reading his text one last time, you felt that it was too sincere and too genuine, and un-Trevor-like. You decided that maybe his roommate Jamie had told him what to say. But what you didn't know was Trevor stayed outside your door a lot longer than either of you had anticipated, it was almost sunrise by the time he left your front porch exhausted.

I gotta get better, gotta get better

And maybe we'll work it out

I walked the streets all day

Running with the thieves

'Cause you left me in the hallway

(Give me some more)

Just take the pain away

Trevor still wasn't entirely sure what he had done wrong. He knew he had done something to hurt you though. Despite wanting to see you and hear your voice, he knew you would want time, so he gave it to you. In doing this he spent more time on himself. He didn't know he could ever spend this much time on hockey, his days consisted of waking up, some sort of training or game and then sleeping. Every time he felt the urge to call or text you another apology he would go to the gym or watch old plays. Anything to distract himself. It almost became obsessive, if you could somehow see how hard he’d been working maybe you would return his texts. This didn't go unnoticed. His plays became smarter, his body stronger and his coaches praised his work ethic. While everyone would agree he was making smarter on-ice plays, he wasn't as creative anymore, there were no jaw-dropping moments and no goals where you had to look at replays just to see how it got past. He was so focused on his teammates and games during the day that he didn't have time to miss you, it was during the nights when he would overthink everything. While his points were up, he never felt less like himself, all he wanted was for you to whisper kind words in his ear like you used to.

Just let me know I'll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I'll be on the floor, on the floor

Maybe we'll work it out

It had been weeks since your last interaction with Trevor. Since you told him to leave for the last time, he was everywhere. Your social media feeds were plastered with how his season had taken a turn for the better. Despite blocking every account that so much as mentioned the name Trevor, he was impossible to escape. His point streak had come to an end, and by his standards, he had a below-average game. If this was in the past he would've texted by now. You had never felt his absence more than you did at that moment, you just wanted him in your bed, you wanted to hear his voice that never seemed to stop talking and you wanted to hear his dumb jokes that you couldn't help but giggle at. In a moment of realisation, you called it for what it was - you missed him. Your hands were working faster than your mind, and before you even had time to regret your actions you sent him a simple text.

Come over

Whether or not he changed, you didn't care. You just wanted to feel him. The cycle would yet again repeat itself.

#trevor zegras #anaheim ducks #nhl imagine #nhl fic #mine

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magicalqueennightmare · 2 years

Text

Back Me

You and Daryl form a friendship at the quarry camp

Warnings: cursing, violence

Reader is Shane's adopted sister

Honestly? When Shane called you thought he was over exaggerating, surely whatever was going on wasn’t as serious as he was making it out to be, right? Hell this was the older brother who beat up kids for telling you that you were adopted yet you’d been told by your parents at a young age. They hadn’t been able to have any more kids after Shane and your biological mother had passed away not long after having you leaving no family that would step up. So surely this was just Shane acting like Shane,right?

Yet sitting on the interstate,seeing the miles of cars backed up made the small knot in the pit of your stomach triple in size. “Aunt Y/N” you heard Carl calling your name so you turned from your position sitting on the hood of Shane’s car to look back at him “Yeah kid?” “When are we gonna get moving? I’m really hungry” you gave him what you hoped was a genuine smile “Soon. Your mom and Shane walked a little ahead to see what the hold up is. Check my purse, I know for a fact there’s some crackers and a couple slim jims in it” his face lit up and you had to stifle a laugh seeing him hop into the backseat where your purse and go bag were stowed away on the floorboard.

The gun Shane had given you when he picked you up from your apartment was digging into your side slightly but he told you to keep it close. If things were going to get worse than they already were you had a feeling it would be needed. About the time you heard the sounds of fighting from a way down airplanes flew overhead.

You were getting curious and about to ask the lady from the next car over Carol to keep an eye on Carl when you saw the top of Shane’s head peeking through the crowd. One look at his face told you something was wrong. You hopped off the hood and the moment he made it to your side he pulled you close to whisper into your ear “Stay calm but we gotta move. They just bombed Atlanta”

The camp that all of you built up at the quarry was small but structured well enough. Dale’s RV was at the center as a lookout post considering the rest of you simply had cars. Tents were formed in a loose circle, far enough to give occupants some privacy but close enough should someone need help they could get it fast enough.

Everyone for the most part got along, knowing that it was important to survival, to have humans close by. Having a group could mean the difference between life and death. Of course every rule had an exception and to your group that exception came in the form of the Dixon brothers. Daryl on his own wasn’t that bad from your experience.

He was quiet and maybe followed his brother’s lead a little too much but he didn’t mind protecting the group or hunting for food. Merle on the other hand was a top grade asshole. He was racist to TDog and Morales. He constantly hit on most of the women in camp and was drugged up more times than not.

You were walking through the camp when you felt someone behind you a half second before Merle’s hand came into contact with your ass. Without hesitation you spun catching him square on the jaw with a hard punch. He stumbled cursing you for being an uppity bitch. “Word of advice asshole, if I wanted you to smack my ass I’d say so”

Someone must have alerted Daryl and Shane because they both came running. Shane stood between you and Merle but you didn’t hesitate to step around him making it clear to Merle you weren’t afraid of him or in need of your brother’s protection “Keep your hands off me and any other woman in this camp or I will cut your dick off and feed it to you” the bastard had the nerve to smile at you despite having to spit a mouthful of blood out where it seemed like you’d knocked at least two of his teeth loose “She got one helluva right there Shane”

Shane looked back at you then shrugged “Yeah she does. Next time you get handsy though remember she also carries a knife and a gun” Daryl’s eyes were glued to you despite him talking low to his brother “Man, Merle let it go” Merle nodded then winked at you “See you around spitfire”

Merle walked off but Daryl stood glued to the spot. Shane stared at him “We got a problem Dixon?” Daryl shook his head addressing you instead of Shane “Sorry about him. I was gonna offer too, I found another bow. It ain't got as heavy a draw as mine so if you wanted it” “Why give it to me? Why not keep a backup?” you questioned but he simply shrugged “Might as well have someone else round here who can hunt, not to mention it’s a helluva lot quieter than the guns”

After that day you had to give a few things to the Dixon brothers. Merle took your threat to heart and didn’t attempt to hit on any woman in camp again, not to mention it seemed as if the older Dixon had a newfound respect for you in particular.

Daryl on the other hand seemed to warm up to you after seeing you stand your ground against his brother. He bought you the bow then showed you a few times how to load and aim it. He even offered to take you squirrel hunting as practice for bigger game and walkers alike. The more you were around him without Merle nearby the more you saw that he wasn’t really like his brother.

Yeah he was rough as hell and so withdrawn that he didn’t really trust anyone but he would also stop and pick berries to give you for the kids and set up an alarm system around the perimeter of the camp with fishing line and old cans to give a heads up.

When you went in search of him one day to take him up on his squirrel hunting offer Carol pointed you in the direction she’d last seen him. You stopped at the flap of his tent not wanting to intrude on his privacy. “Um Daryl?’ he popped his head out clearly still half asleep “Yeah Y/N?” “Feel like going squirrel hunting?” you asked and he nodded “Let me grab a shirt” you didn’t mean to look but when he turned you saw the scars across his back and felt your stomach turn.

He looked back and saw you staring and for a moment you worried you would be met with anger but he shrugged one shoulder, eyes downcast as he explained “Merle went into the army. I couldn’t get away yet” “Daryl..” you tried but he cut you off “Look if this is gonna be a pity thing I don’t want it. I ain't gonna lie I like having someone to be around besides Merle’s grumpy ass but I don’t need ya around”

You crossed your arms before saying “I was gonna ask if I needed to bring a gun along too just in case we ran across something big or a walker” You could see the relief flashed through his eyes before the tips of his ears flushed slightly pink “Oh, shouldn’t need to but if it makes you feel better then grab it”

—---------

You followed Daryl’s footsteps trying to step in the exact spot he had considering he moved through the underbrush almost silently. He glanced over his shoulder at you and nodded approvingly when he saw what you were doing. The two of you had killed a little over a dozen squirrels and were checking for any deer or hog tracks that could possibly lead to a bigger meal for camp.

“You don’t really look like Shane” he spoke suddenly stopping which caused you to nearly slam into his back “I’m adopted. Our parents loved us both and never showed any difference though” he nodded “Good” then started back walking.

—--------------

A noise made you both stop, pulling your bows up. What you saw flushed you with anger. Shane and Lori, clearly redressing. “You’d know bout this?” Daryl whispered stepping back to be shoulder to shoulder with you considering Shane nor Lori had noticed either of you “No, but I’m bout to tell both their asses” he waved a hand “Lead the way darlin”

“SHANE” you hollered not caring if your voice drew the attention of any other occupants of the camp or any walkers that may have shambled up the mountain. Him and Lori both looked like the literal children with their hands caught in a cookie jar. “Now Y/N..I can explain” Shane tried but before he could get any other word out you open handed slapped him. “Rick was your best friend. He’s only been dead weeks” “Y/N please” Lori said, her hand touching your elbow so you leveled her with a glare “I just slapped Shane, what the fuck do you think I’ll do to you?”

“You’re gonna calm your ass down is what you’re gonna do” Shane said as he moved to grab you but you heard Daryl from behind you “She may be your sister Shane but don’t lay a hand on her” Shane raised an eyebrow “You fuckin Dixon now?” you knew what reaction that would bring from Daryl so you turned your attention to him, barely catching him before he swung on Shane.

“Let me handle it” he glared at your brother but nodded nonetheless. You turned, giving Daryl your back as you looked from Shane to Lori “Were you two messing around behind Rick’s back? Because I swear on everything, that man was like a brother to me and I will not hesitate to beat both your asses”

Shane laughed humorlessly “I AM your brother” you shrugged “Not the point now one or both of you answer me” “No, we weren’t. Y/N you’ve got to know I loved Rick. He was my husband, the father of my son” “But he barely got cold before you bedded my brother?” You cut her off and saw anger flash through Shane’s eyes “Now Y/N, that ain’t called for”

You glared up at him “What ain't called for is a booty call in the middle of the woods to the point neither of you noticed us until I made our presence known. Now I ain’t gonna say nothing around camp because I am not going to hurt Carl. That kid’s been through enough but do not endanger the camp again by being so reckless”

They both nodded so Daryl touched your shoulder “C’mon we can get a few more squirrels before it gets dusk” you nodded keeping your eyes on Shane “Yeah, let’s go”

In the days following that confrontation you’d refused to speak to Shane or Lori if Carl wasn’t present. More than once you caught Daryl glancing your way as if silently asking if you were ok or about to go nuclear. You’d simply nod and continue whatever given task was at hand.

A group was going into Atlanta on a run and surprise surprise Shane had skipped over you when picking the group. “Since Merle’s going on the run, I’m gonna go hunt. See if I can round up something bigger than some squirrels. You wanna come?” Daryl spoke from over your shoulder where you were sitting with Amy sewing up a shirt for Carl. You glanced back at him then nodded “Yeah sure. Let me finish this and tell Carl I’m headed out. Meet you by my tent in ten?” he nodded then walked away.

“How did you manage that?” Amy asked after he walked away but you honestly didn’t know what she meant. At your confused expression she waved a hand after Daryl “He talks to you. Anyone else is lucky to get a growl” you laughed lightly and shrugged “Flatten his brother then take up hunting with him?” she laughed “You the redneck whisperer now?” you spotted Shane walking towards you and said “Better than other things”

You stood to head to Lori’s tent but was stopped by Shane calling your name. “What?” you asked and he sighed “I just don’t want you going into the city” You laughed at that “I’m a lot more equipped than Andrea and definitely more so than Jacqui” “You gotta quit busting my balls so damn much kid” you rolled your eyes at that before saying “Is that it? I gotta take Carl his shirt then I’m going hunting with Daryl”

“Why are you spending so much time with him?” he asked and for a moment sounded like your big brother again. You shrugged one shoulder “He doesn’t flirt with me.He doesn’t act like I’m a damsel in need of saving. He listens to me. He shows me how to protect myself even more than you and Rick already had. He’s taught me how to handle a bow and how to track” Shane simply nodded “Ok. Be safe?” you managed a grin in return “Always”

Somewhere in the midst of tracking a herd of deer daylight had run out on you and Daryl. “Shit, what now?” you asked, following him through the dark woods. “We find a place to make a small camp.I’ll keep watch so you can get some sleep then we’ll start back come daybreak”

“What about you getting some sleep?” you asked and he shrugged “I’m used to going without much sleep” you rolled your eyes “We make camp but you only let me sleep a couple hours then we’ll switch off so you can rest too” he knew better than to argue so he replied “Ok”

—-------

Daryl sat by the small fire he’d built staring into the darkness around the two of you. He’d found a small cut out in the rocks and had backed the two of you into it so you were at least partially covered. He knew he should wake you and rest if not for any other reason than you’d be pissed when you woke up at daybreak but one look at you and he couldn’t do it.

He’d shed his flannel earlier in the day and you were now covered up with it, your head resting on your metal canteen as a crude pillow. You looked peaceful laying there, your chest rising and falling with your steady breathing. He had no idea how this friendship had formed between the two of you yet here you were.

You didn’t treat him like an outsider. You spoke to him like he was a person. He liked spending time with you, rather showing you how to field dress a hog or you showing him how to properly sew a button back on his shirt. Shane had accused you of sleeping with him and Merle had even questioned it but that hadn’t really crossed his mind where you were concerned. Yeah you were beautiful, he had eyes but you were honestly the first person he met to not judge him or look at him in one way or another. He wasn't just some dumbass redneck to you.

You moved around in your sleep and he worried for a moment you were gonna wake up but once you scooted far enough over that your foot touched his you stilled and fell back into a deep sleep. A smile slipped onto his face when he realized you’d been looking for him in your sleep and once you found him you must have felt safe.

“Told ya it got away from ya” you teased Daryl with a laugh. You had his flannel tied around your waist and he was side eyeing you as you took a swig of water from your canteen. “Quit your teasing woman. You ain’t found it either” you raised one eyebrow “I ain't the mighty tracker either there Dixon”

He shook his head “C’mon. We’ll head back to camp. Maybe we’ll find some tracks between here and there” You waved a hand “Lead the way honey. At least we’ve managed to get some squirrels even if we can’t find the damn deer”

—---------

You followed Daryl as he breached the woods around camp and heard him cuss about the fact that a walker got your deer.

“Chill out Daryl. At least we got something and no one got hurt” you told him walking out as he started kicking the deer then froze when you spotted Rick standing next to Dale “Rick?” Were you dreaming? He grinned “Hey Y/N” you ran across to him throwing your arms around him in a tight hug “How? I thought you were dead?” you asked cutting your eyes at Shane before turning your full attention to Rick.

“I thought I was too. I found your group in the city. Glenn saved my ass” you smiled “Thank god. I can’t believe you’re here, you’re alive” he nodded but you saw him glance at Daryl “What’s going on?”

Daryl walked past you into the camp further so Rick turned to follow him after kissing your forehead “Glad you’re ok Y/N”, when you looked at Dale he mouthed “Merle” so you followed the two men.

—----

You caught the last end of Shane and Rick telling Daryl that Merle put the group at risk and in turn Rick handcuffed him to a roof. You stood next to Glenn debating if you should jump in. Daryl pulled a knife so Shane caught him with a headlock while his attention was on Rick.

You ran up next to Rick when Daryl finally agreed to calm down. “Calm your ass down Daryl! Rick wouldn’t have made that decision lightly” Daryl shook his head “Hell with all of yall. Tell me where he is so I can go get him”

“He’ll show you..isn’t that right?” Lori spoke looking at Rick. “I’m going back” Rick spoke so you looked back at Daryl “There. We’ll go get your son of a bitching brother” “You’re going too?” Shane asked so you shrugged “Daryl gets along with me better than anyone else. I can back Rick too so Lori that should help your feelings slightly” You could feel the frustration rolling off Shane but you couldn't turn your back on Daryl or Rick especially after just getting Rick back.

“That’s three. Would you come too?” Rick asked Glenn who sighed then nodded. “That’s four” You spoke before TDog stood up from where he’d been sitting on a log “Five”

—-------

Shane was talking to Rick so you were gathering a pack of supplies at your tent. “I get why Rick’s going. Even Glenn and T but why are you going?’ Daryl asked from where he’d come to stand over your shoulder “You’re my friend, same as Glenn or T. Rick is like a brother to me and I just got him back. If y'all are going, so am I. Not to mention we could use the guns Rick said he left behind” he nodded slightly then held out your arrows he’d retrieved from the dead deer and cleaned.

“Thanks for earlier” “Trying to calm your ass down because even Daryl Dixon might get his ass whipped when Rick and Shane are on the same page?” he scoffed “Yeah, whatever. Either way I ain’t never had someone back me in any ways so yeah” he turned to walk off and you watched him before grabbing your bag. You wanted to tell Carl bye before all of you loaded up to head into the city.

@ellerelly

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fic #daryl dixon x female reader

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remingtonisleithal · 1 year

Text

Cemetery Drive

Pairing: Vampire!Gerard x female reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: trigger warning for suicide, self harm and death

Summary: Y/N visits her ex's grave but is surprised at what, or who, she finds

Author's note: I genuinely cannot tell if this is a masterpiece cause I love some of the lines, or the shittiest thing I have written. Also this is probably going to be part 1, let me know if you want a part 2!! If you like, please reblog <3

Thunder boomed as lightning bloomed across the jet black sky. The rain only added to the misery, which added to overall feeling that this was somehow meant to be. Y/N slipped through the cemetery gates, passing the familiar graves like old friends.

“Excuse me, Henry,” she said, followed by “Rest well, Sandra,” as she passed by on the way to see her ex-boyfriend's grave. Once she got there, she sat down, never mind the rain, the fact that her black tights and dress would get saturated. Today was too important. It was supposed to be their first anniversary. Halloween. It was going to be everything.

Y/N pulled out a bottle of vodka from her bag, and took a long swing. Even the thunder, rain and heartbreak couldn't drown out the sounds in her head, the night he died. She poured some of the vodka on her ex's grave so he could have some.

“I guess this is what you wanted, huh?” she let out a cold laugh “I miss you, Gerard. I know that this was your decision, but I don't understand why. Was I not enough?” she wiped away a tear, pointless with the rain, but determined to collect herself. But why bother? No one was there but her. Sure, the dead may be supposed to walk tonight, but she was alone. She let out a small sob. Then another. A louder one.

“I miss you,” she heaved “I miss you, so-” but she was cut off.

“Oh sugar, of course you were enough for me. But I had to leave. It wasn't my choice.”

Y/N whirled around at the sound of Gerard's voice.

“No.” she said, so softly she didn't even hear herself. “No, no, you're dead. I saw your body, I found you on the bathroom floor, this isn't possible.”

“Well,” Gerard said with a small gesture that could've meant anything. “I guess I should explain a few thi-” Y/N charged at Gerard, hugging him so fiercely the wind got knocked from his lungs—well, they would have if he still had air left in him.

Gerard wrapped his arms around Y/N as she nuzzled into his chest.

“You bastard! You fucking asshole!!” she sobbed. She pushed him back. “Explain. Wait. No.” She took a few swigs of the vodka, handed it to him, and then said, “I am most definitely drunk, but if this is real, I need to stay drunk for this. Explain.”

“Well,” Gerard loosened the red tie he was buried in. “I had to fake it. No one would believe the truth.”

“Which is?” Y/N demanded.

“How about we get under some shelter first, OK?” Gerard took a drink, and Y/N's hand, and the pair ran under the cover of the mausoleum door. Once they got there, Y/N took a tentative step forward, and brushed her hand over Gerard's cheek.

“Baby, is this really you?? Are you here, or are you just a ghost?” a tear slipped down her cheek.

“Y/N, it's really me.” Gerard said, voice soft and soothing like Y/N's favourite blanket.

“I don't think I can handle losing you again. Don't leave me, Gee.”

Y/N's lips crashed against Gerard's. Though it had only been a month without each other, their car-crash kiss was a collision of passion and pain, like a rose blooming in a storm, a breath of fresh air in a polluted city.

“I...” Gerard sighed, and softly kissed Y/N, hands on her cheek and waist, a familiar feeling that Y/N missed with every inch of her soul. “I can't be with you. Not, not like we where.”

Watching the despair and disappointment well up in Y/N's eye broke what was left of Gerard's heart. She turned away and went to walk, but Gerard held her wrist.

“My love, please. Don't go. Let me explain, OK? You still believe in magic and mysterious things, right?”

“Gerard, I just brought you vodka and a black rose on Halloween, in case you were still alive. I watched you be buried, but I kissed you a minute ago. I don't believe in anything but believe in everything now.”

“Well..”

“For fuck's sake, just say it Gerard!”

“I'm a vampire!”

Silence.

“Gerard this isn't funny.”

“You said yourself that you found my body. You saw me be buried. We just walked past my tombstone!! I am dead, Y/N!”

“So you're a ghost then, I'm drunk, I should go home-”

“Touch my neck,”

Y/N froze. What sounded like an absolutely absurd request was merely an in joke she had with Gerard, when they first started dating, a joke about vampires after watching a horror movie marathon. This was definitely Gerard she was talking to.

Y/N obliged, and gently placed her finger tips where Gerard's pulse should have been. Lightning flashed and Y/N saw just how pale Gerard was. There was no pulse. He was cold, and it wasn't the weather.

“I had to fake my death. It's not like I could just suddenly say 'hey, so I'm deathly allergic to sunlight, I can't eat garlic bread anymore, and is it OK if I just sneak out real quick to suck some blood?'” Y/N took a step back as Gerard took a step closer. “Honey, I love you. But I couldn't risk hurting you.”

“And you thought that DYING would be fucking better?! Fuck you! And I know full well that even as a vampire you'd never hurt me!!” the fires of hell burned through her venomous words.

“I wouldn't. But my pack would. Look, I don't want to sound like Creepy Cullen here, but I couldn't risk it. I would never hurt you. But they would. And without them, I can't eat. And I don't want to become a monster.”

Seconds ticked by like centuries, thunder and rain the only sounds louder than one beating heart and voices.

“If you can't risk it, then why did you come here tonight? You had to know I was going to see you. It's our day.”

“It's because of that that I couldn't stay away. I was going to stay hidden, but the way you were blaming yourself? I would happily die to protect you from my friends, but I will not watch you tear yourself apart.”

The words bad Y/N shuffle her jacket, subconsciously trying to hide any cuts that Gerard didn't know about, thinking about the last time he told her not to tear herself apart. But the gesture wasn't unnoticed. Without saying a word, Gerard lifted Y/N's arm to his lips.

“What now? I can't lose you again Gerard, I can't do it, I won't.” Y/N's voice was sharp and broken as a shard of glass.

Gerard kissed Y/N with all the life he had left.

“Never again. I swear, I will never leave you again.”

Taglist: @fandomfoodiedancer @smiling-girl @fedorable-killjoys @sab-falco @charlie-rulerofhell and anyone who wants to be on the list! Sorry if I forgot or tagged the wrong people!

#mcr #my chem #my chemical romance #cemetery drive #fanfic #mcrmy #vampires #vampire gerard way #gerard way #gerard x reader

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simp-forlife · 2 years

Text

Vinny X Fem;Reader

Scenario: Vinny gets into an accident, the reader attempts to comfort him while also trying to keep herself together.

Warning: Angst, Cussing, Mention of car crash

Word Count: 720

Shoutout to @amm22sblog for this request!! <3

You laughed at the TV show that played in front of you. You were currently waiting for Vinny to get back. Your phone rang, you quickly picked it up, thinking it was Vinny.

"Is this Y/N?" It was a man, and you certainly didn't recognize his voice. Your eyebrows raised in confusion.

"It is, do I know you?" You ask.

"Ma'am, I'm calling about Vinny Pazienza." Your breath hitches. "He's been in an accident."

After that, everything seemed like a blur, you remember grabbing one of his sweaters, throwing it on, getting into your car and hauling ass to the hospital. Tears poured from your eyes, they hadn't told you much about how he was, just that he was alive.

When you arrived, you rushed to the front desk. "Vinny Pazienza." You say in panic. "Ma'am, I'm afraid only fam-" You cut the woman off.

"Where the hell is he?!" You smack your hands against the desk, You can imagine how crazy you probably looked. Swollen eyes, your hair was a mess from running your fingers though it, and here you were yelling at this poor lady who was just trying to do her job.

"Room 201 ma'am." You look at her, silently thanking her, before you rush away.

You finally found the room and wasted no time to burst through the doors. Vinny was awake, he was in a neck brace, but he was alert.

"Oh thank god." You croak out.

"Y/N? Is that you baby?" Your eyes are full of tears again after hearing him.

"Its me Vinny." You say softly, walking closer to him. "You fucking scared the shit out of me." You say while placing a gentle kiss on his lips, which he returns. After you break the kiss, Vinny looks at the doctor.

"So doc, when do you think I'll be able to fight again?" He asks.

"Vin, boxing isnt really important right now. You need to focus on getting better." You say sympathetically, tilting your head, looking down at him.

"Baby, let the doctor answer. Please." Vinny pleads.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Vinny, I dont even know if you are gonna walk again."

Vinny chuckles. " What do you mean? I'm fine! I can move my feet. See?!" He starts to move his feet.

"Vinny, sweetie you gotta calm down." You say, brushing his hair out of his face. Vinny paid no attention to you.

"I can fucking move my feet! What do you mean I might not be able walk?!" Now his entire body was moving aggressively. One of the nurses grabbed your shoulder, pulling you away from him gently. "Hey! Don't fucking touch her!" He yells, jolting forward. One of the nurses grabs his arm, holding it tightly, while injecting something into him. You watch as his words become sloppier and his eyes become droopier, then he was out. Tears were rolling down your cheeks at this point. It hurt you so bad to see him so distraught. You watched as they put restraints on him, adding more weight to your already aching heart. You lay your head on the side of his bed, your hand interlocked with his, as you fall asleep in the uncomfortable hospital chair.

"Y/N. Baby." You hear your boyfriends voice. You jolt up, your eyes burning from how much you've cried.

"Hm?" you hum, giving him a soft smile.

"Why do they have me tied up and why am I in this fucking thing?" He asks, his tone sounding annoyed and hurt.

"They don't want you to hurt yourself Vinny." You reassure him.

"Y/N, I dont like this." He says, his voice cracking,

"I know Vin, I know." You pause. "It's killing me to see you like this." You add, voice breaking. "But you know what, we'll be just fine. We'll be a kickass metal team!" You say trying to cheer him up.

"Angel. Where the hell is your metal?" He asks, amusement drippping from his voice, which caused a part of you to leap with joy.

"I had braces in 7th grade, I feel like that should count for something." You hear Vinnny let out a laugh. A genuine laugh, causing you to join in.

"Fuck, I love you so damn much Y/N."

"I love you too, more than you'll ever know Vin."

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thatwriterj · 1 year

Text

Bonfire ⟶ John B x Fem Reader ⟶ Imagine

Word count: 1.1k+

Summary: Kiara and Sarah make Y/n go to a bonfire, but while there she sees her boyfriend do something she wouldn't have ever imagined.

warrings: Underaged drinking, Cursing, Fighting, and Crying.

A/N: This is my first post on this blog!! This was supposed to come out so long ago but I'm so slow with everything anyways hope you enjoy and if so lmk if I should make a part 2 ;)

Sarah and Kiara do the finishing touches to my look—just to go to some stupid bonfire, but to them, it’s not just a bonfire. I don't understand why they're romanticizing it, but it’s whatever.

Sarah says with a smile, "Oh my god, John B is going to literally die." Kiara agrees with Sarah’s statement by nodding her head yes.

“What if he doesn’t want me? I look like a clown?” Kiara and Sarah giggle at my response.

"First of all, that is disrespectful to both yourself and mine and Sarah's work, also John B is practically in love with you. He could genuinely go on and on about you.” Sarah agrees with Kiara's statement by nodding her head.

"Look, Kie, but may-“ Sarah cuts me off.

“Shut up, Y/N, any fucking guy in Outer Banks would fucking die even to do the smallest thing like hold your hand! You are so fucking beautiful!” Sarah takes a breath. “You're also speaking poorly about yourself and still haven't seen yourself the way we do.” The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence.

"Damn Sarah, how long have you been holding that in?" Kie said to break the tension.

She might not be correct in saying that any guy in Outer Banks would die to even hold my hand. She may be right in saying that I haven't seen myself yet. I might actually look decent.

"We'll anyway, we should get going, come on," Kiara says, moving slowly toward the door.

"Yes, we should," Sarah said as she exited the room.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled as she exited the room. I get up from my chair and walk over to the full-length mirror in my room. As I stand here, I realize that Sarah was correct when she said those things about me. I am fucking beautiful.

—----

"This is it," Sarah says over the car music. She then lowers the volume of the music playing.

“I can't believe this is your first bonfire.” Sarah screeches.

"Okay, car tire," I say as Sarah punches me in the arm. In response to her screech, Kiara laughs in the backseat.

"All right, end your guy's little fight; I've got to get a beer; it's necessary." Kiara exits the car, and we leave behind her.

When we get out of the car, the music is already blaring. We three entered while holding hands, but the one and only JJ Maybank quickly broke up our embrace.

JJ is now standing in front of us. “What's up, la-" JJ started to say but was interrupted. “Woah, Y/n y-you’re fucking beautiful,” JJ says as he looks at me up and down.

JJ’s comment has made me smile. I hardly even managed to say, "Thanks, JJ," because of how broad my smile was.

"Anyway, I think we all look lovely," Sarah smirks and scowls. Sarah tilts her head to the side while twisting a strand of her hair in her finger and says, "Don't you think so JJ?" Sarah smiles

Pope quickly comes over to us and says, "JJ, I need you right now."

“Okay, where do you need me?” JJ asks.

"Just come on, man," Pope says, grabbing JJ's hand and dragging him to where he needs him.

"Isn't John B supposed to be here?” I question Kie and Sarah.

“He won't just appear as you stand there because, as far as I know, teleportation doesn't exist, but he should be somewhere around here,” Kie assured me

I walked away from them and began to advance into the large crowd of people when a guy gabbing my arm stopped me. "Heyyy,” the guy said. I could tell he was intoxicated just by listening to him speak, and his breath further confirmed this.

"Y/n, isn't it? I believe I have you in my math class, right?” He examines me with his wide-eyed gaze.

“Yes, I'm Y/n, but I don't believe I have you in my math class.” I laugh it off and roll my eyes in annoyance. “Look what do you want from me, dickhead, and let go of me,” I said as I took my hand away from his grip.

I was getting more irritated with this son of a bitch by the time I pulled my arm back because it was already red.

“There's no need to call me-” I cut him off mid-sentence.

"Talk to me when you brush your teeth, please, and thank you." I turned around and walked away from this weirdo.

I kept walking, but all I could see were drunken teenagers—no sign of my boyfriend, John B. I need a break from all these people. I walk away from the big crowds. I end up somewhere with fewer people—about 10–20 people max.

I was about to sit down on a bench when I noticed something that I never thought I'd see in a million years. My alleged boyfriend is halfway down Sarah Cameron's throat fucking.

I'm at a loss for what to do. Should I be angry at John B or Sarah? I'm not even angry. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be feeling right now. I make my way over to them. I stop in my steps. If I go up to them and confront them, what exactly will change? I turn to leave this nightmare as tears stream down my cheeks.

As I'm trying to make my way through all of these people, I bump into JJ. "Woah, you better be careful," JJ says as he checks to see if I'm all right, but I cut him off by doing something I never would have expected.

I kissed him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” I said to JJ in a panic. I have no idea why I did that, but if John B wants to fuck, my friends might as well do the same to him. Right?

“It's alright,” JJ smirks. "I've always wanted to do that to you, but I just-" John B tackled JJ to the ground, cutting him off.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM, KISSING MY GIRL?” John B screamed.

I feel outraged. Who the fuck does he think he is that he can kiss other people while I'm quote on quote "his girl."

"Look, man, she kissed me,” said JJ as John B had him pressed on the ground.

“Get off of him!” I yelled at John B as I pushed him off of JJ.

JJ and John B both get up off the ground. “You’re such a fucking slut, Y/N,” my fist clenched harder as those words came out of John B's mouth.

Before I knew it, I had punched John B to the ground. I tumbled back a bit, almost falling, but I bumped into someone who stopped my fall. I run away from this situation with tears running down my stupid face.

Is everything that happened tonight my fault? Is this what I deserve? Has he ever loved me? Am I a slut for kissing his best friend out of spite? These thoughts are racing through my stupid fucking head as I sob uncontrollably while sitting on the ground next to a tree.

THE END

#obx x reader #john b routledge #john b x y/n #reader insert #outer banks #imagine #john b outer banks #first post #go viral #writing #netflix #obx imagine #Jonathan Booker Routledge

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magnoliabutters · 2 years

Text

• BUSINESS FIRST •

pairing: eddie munson x (he/him) reader

summary: what should you expect from a 6-o’clock meet up at the auditorium. will this be an adventure, or a disaster?

warnings: 18+ content, minors dni, adult language; the fluffies, almost caught, slight mentions of violence and anxiety, make out sesh, heavy petting, y/l/n use: 1, etc.

word count: ~3.2k

reblogs for the baby eddie!

• the banished ones • part two •

note: part dos! here we go (a-mario!) also i don’t know much about d&d, but i am desperately hoping to start up a group. Here’s my resource in case anyone else is interested in learning more c:

Sitting in your car, you find yourself lost in trance like thoughts. You have been sitting in the school’s parking lot since 5:30. What will this night bring you? Excitement? Pleasure? Pain? Humiliation? Distraught? Your fingers harshly tap against your steering wheel. You wish you could stop your negativity, but you have no clue how.

The possibilities of this meet up could be disastrous. Or it could be incredible. You will be risking a lot here. But what is life, if not a dangerous and ridiculous adventure?

The clock hits 6:00. Taking a deep breath, you step out of your car - an old beat up ‘79 Volvo Coupe. Walking towards the school’s front doors, you shake out your hands. Your eyes watching for any homophobic pieces of garbage hiding behind each corner. Luckily for you, Hawkin’s High has a clear map in its main entryway. You memorize the journey needed to make your way to the auditorium - to Munson. “Okay. One right turn, walk down past the cafeteria, and then a left,” you whisper to yourself.

You push through the auditorium doors. Your guard is still up. There will not be a repeat of today’s excursion with that Jason boy. You notice a long wooden table resting across the stage. The multi-colored lights lit, but dim. The place seemingly empty. Fear strikes your chest.

“Munson?” you shout out the question. Suddenly, Munson jumps away from the curtains as though he had been waiting. “Y/l/n, you’re here!” he says excitedly. You chuckle to yourself. “Were you just hanging out behind there?” you ask playfully. He laughs, walking toward the edge of the stage. He takes a seat. His feet dangling. “That’s one possibility,” he replies with a smile.

Walking slowly towards him, you feel a bit of curiosity rush through you. “So, what are we doing here?” you ask. Munson hops off the edge, landing gracefully. He meets you halfway. “Do you have any guesses?” he asks as he leans towards you. You could almost feel his curls on the sides of your cheeks. Leaving you with the question: Is he into you or does he just not understand personal space? Maybe the answer is a bit of both.

“I’m thinking you might teach me about this Hellfire club that you signed me up for,” you share. Munson’s eyes light up, a smile forming across his face. “You are correct. Welcome,” he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He leads you towards the stairs connected to the stage. His arm is warm and gentle against your body. You wouldn’t expect anything different from him.

“So where are you from, J?” Munson asks, as you reach the stairs. His arm falling to your upper back and then slowly back at his side. “I just moved here from Chicago,” you answer. He smirks, impressed. “Chicago, huh? I’ve been trying to get my band out there,” he replies. You turn towards him, “What band? A Hellfire band?” Munson laughs at your genuine curiosity. “It’s called Corroded Coffin. It’s separate from Hellfire,” he says with a smile. “Actually, Gareth and Jeff play with me. They sat with us at lunch. We do a lot of heavy metal, inspired by the classics: Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Metallica. I could go on and on,” he laughs - almost as though he was embarrassed. You smile, enjoying his honesty.

“I’ve heard of Black Sabbath, but not too much of the others. That music is pretty intense,” you share. “Yeah! Don’t you just love it?” he whispers, leaning back into you. You welcome his touch, catching Munson a bit off guard. “I bet you do,” you softly say as you pull away.

You approach the long wooden table. There are nicks throughout the top. Multiple water lines infect its surface. However deep and dark the brown of the wood is, you cannot see past the fact that this table has been quite overused. You trace your fingertips against it. “What are all these marks?” you ask, turning back towards Munson. He watches you, all of you. His eyes slowly raise from your lower half. He grins in response to you catching him.

“They’re from our die, or dice or whatever. Sometimes we get a bit over excited and throw them hard enough to chip the table,” he laughs to himself. You smile, watching his joy. Munson walks over towards the table and drags his own finger against the top as well. “Hellfire’s had this table since ‘78. It’s seen a lot of battles,” he says, almost reminiscing.

“Battles?” you ask. A smile deepens upon his face. “Yes, J. Battles - great and treacherous,” he says with his chest. He raises his hands over the table. “The Realm of the Forbidden Dagger,” he smiles. “Oh god! Heroes of the Elder’s Horde,” he clutches his heart. “Fuck, Todd writes out the best campaigns.” You laugh, enjoying his happiness. Munson’s eyes elated. His hair bouncing as his body exudes excitement.

“What’s a campaign?” you ask. Munson scoffs, smacking his hands onto the surface. “A campaign?! Oh, dear dear boy,” he says, tracing his finger towards the head of the table. With a smack of his hand, Munson has your full attention. “A campaign is a beautiful, adventurous story filled with ups and downs, twists and turns, in worlds full of fantasy, magic, and most importantly - role playing,” he says, inflection throughout his voice.

“Role playing?” you ask, walking closer to him. “Yes! When you join the campaign, it-it's not just a game. You’re living it. You are your character. You feel what they feel, see what they see. Their losses are your losses, wins are yours,” he says with such animation.

It is almost as though you are watching him with rose-colored glasses. His hair bouncing against his shoulders as he explains in excruciatingly, fine details the game - no, the art of Dungeons and Dragons. His gestures are so enthused and full of life. His arms are thin, but strong. His brown eyes shining bright twinkles as he discusses something he is so painfully and obviously passionate about. He is absolutely beautiful. He is entrancing to watch. He evokes such delight and joy within you - something you have never experienced before.

Munson actually made this fantasy role play game seem interesting. You would never have joined in on a game like this back in Chicago. “And don’t get me started on being a DM,” he laughs, finally making eye contact with you after a long winded monologue. “What’s a DM, Munson?” you ask smoothly. You lean back onto the table, attempting to make yourself seem more open. He winces as he watches your weight rests onto the surface.

“A-a DM is the Dungeon Master. That’s who Todd is. He creates the campaigns. He leads us through the story. Todd even acts as each of the characters we run into,” he says, initially still focused on your sitting upon the table. You catch the hint and stand up, trying to maintain your nonchalant demeanor.

“I was really hoping to be a DM this year, but the boys keep voting for Todd’s campaigns,” Munson softly says with a sigh. With a deep breath of courage, you push a strand of his hair away from his face with your finger. “So where do I start?” you say confidently. He smiles, eyes focused on your fingertip.

“What are you doing?” he asks with a neutral tone. You quickly search for some twitch of his cheek, a slight squint of his eye - some indication that you did not just hit on a straight guy. “U-uh, nothing I guess,” you reply, uneasily waiting for his response. Munson lets out a sharp sigh, keeping his eyes to the floor. Your heart beats rapidly. Blood shooting right to your cheeks. Sweat begins to pool at the back of your neck.

With what felt like forever, Munson raises his eyes to you. He has to look up as you are a good inch or two taller than him. His doe eyes almost impossible to ignore at this angle. Before you know it, his hand is gently placed against your cheek. A beautiful, big smile appearing on his face.

“J, I’m your guide. I gotta get you prepared for the campaign on Friday,” Munson says with a whisper. He gently rubs his thumb against your cheek. A beautiful sensation of comfort you have yet to experience. He leans his face close to yours. His lips sweet, pale, and supple. “Business first, baby, then pleasure,” he says sincerely. With each word, your body flusters with hot white intensity. Your skin bubbling with goose bumps. Your body screaming to reach out for him.

You take a shaky breath, loud enough that he looked down at your mouth and then back at your eyes. Munson smiles and quickly turns away from you. His curly hair wiping across your face. You chuckle in response. “So, you’ll start with creating your character. In order to do that, you’ll have to pick a class,” he says, clapping his hands together with finality.

He walks closer to the edge of the stage, staring back towards you. “You have thirteen classes to pick from. We have a Barbarian, as you can imagine with a name like that they’re pretty bad ass and huge on dealing damage. Bard is almost the exact opposite - more of a support, a spells-kind of character. Cleric is like a holy healer with its own brand of magic.” Munson continues to speak, walking back and forth across the stage. You feel as though you should be taking notes.

“Now a Druid,” Munson says with a laugh, “pulls its magical powers from Mother Nature herself. They can also shapeshift. Fighter, god. Fighters are your weapons people. They carry the whole arsenal and kick ass.” Knowing you will probably have to pick your class by the end of his lecture, you continue to lean into your instincts for what class speaks most to you. “Monks are better without weapons, funny enough. It is definitely more of a strategic class where you’re building up power as you play. Paladins are kind of like clerics but have a higher defense since they’re pretty hefty. They’re also more on the aggressive side of things,” he says smiling to himself. You find yourself feeling like you are on the outside of an inside joke.

“So, are Paladins holy too?” you ask hesitantly. Munson’s head bounces side to side. “Well, they aren’t preachers but they are on their own ‘holy quest’,” he answers with air quotation marks. You audibly humph in response. “Almost done, okay? We have the Ranger. Rangers can be kinda tricky. There’s a lot of factors at play and some are dependent on the campaign too. I wouldn’t really recommend this class your first time around,” he smiles.

You grin back towards him. “First time around?” you say with a twinge of confusion. “Yeah! We’re probably going to complete a few campaigns before we graduate,” Munson says with excitement. You are continuously reminded that you have no idea what you signed up for when joining the Hellfire Club.

Munson clears his throat, stopping in his tracks. “Rogue,” he says dramatically. “Rogues can fuck up your entire life. They’re tricky, mischievous little dicks. They’re deadly focused on stealth attacks. They’re quick and precise - definitely a bit scary if you ask me.” An involuntary grin beams across your face.

You live your life in somewhat of a stealth mode. Your true self hidden deep within you. A tough exterior. But you know how to defend yourself and you often rely on others’ thinking less of you. Surprise attacks are your strong suit, but never unwarranted. Your eyes are placed on the floor as you imagine a powerful and exciting life as a Rogue. “Silent, but deadly,” you whisper. “Exactly,” Munson says. “There’s a few more-” You interrupt him. “I’m a Rogue,” you say confidently. “You don’t want to hear the last few?” Munson smiles at your genuine excitement. He walks closer to you, eyes fixed. “No need. What’s next after choosing your class?” you ask with curiosity.

“Pleasure,” he replies as he rushes his hands towards your face. He catches you off guard as his lips crash into yours. Your eyes quickly close as you feel the intensity of the pressure against you. After a brief moment of surprise, your hands wrap around his waist. You pull him closer towards you.

Without leaving his lips, you both walk towards the table. You lean him back, but feel hesitancy in his body language. “Munson?” you ask through kisses. “Hm?” he says deliriously. “Are you alright?” you slowly pull back from one last soft kiss. He laughs, “It’s stupid.” He lowers his hands to your hips. Your hand brushes his cheek. “Tell me,” you say smoothly. “I-I just can’t do this on the table,” he says, hissing through his teeth. An awkward tight smile appears across his lips. You smirk. His dedication to this game and club is astounding. With a raise of your eyebrow, you grab his hand and pull him towards behind the stage’s curtains.

As his curly locks brush against the red velvet, you press your lips against him with a fiery embrace. Both of you are struggling to choose between breaths and kisses. Between caresses, your hands find the back wall. You pin Munson up to it, as you slowly move your kisses from his lips, to his jaw, and finally to his neck. He lets out a soft moan, encouraging you all the more. His head curls onto yours as he becomes ticklish from your light kisses.

Beautiful, sweet laughs fall from his mouth. Slowly, you retreat from his neck. You find yourself with locked eyes, inches from his face. A dazzling smile draws across his - dimples so cute that you would do anything to see them again. You watch as his chocolate eyes twinkle with joy. His hair perfectly poofed and framing his face. “You’re gorgeous by the way,” you say softly. Luckily for you, his smile grows larger. His eyes squinting with the amount of glee being expressed within his face.

Munson tightens his grip around your hips. He pulls your waist onto his. He leans up slowly - each second feeling like an eternity. To your slight disappointment, he leans past your lips and towards your cheeks. He whispers in your ear, “I’ve been waiting for someone like you.” He pulls away with an honest, yet nervous, side smile.

Matching his energy, you smirk right back at him. “I’m right here,” you whisper. Your eyes struggle to focus between his lips and eyes. With a slower build up, you gently place your lips upon his. One hand props you against the wall. The other on his warming cheek. Your tongue presses against his lips. With a slight opening of his lips, your tongues crash against each other in a rush of passion.

With his level of animation and happiness, you might expect an exaggerated level of passion. Maybe a bit rough? Maybe a bit energetic and active? No, Munson was soft and sweet. His hands travel across your lower back. His waist digging into you, but not a single pressuring movement.

God damn is Munson an incredible kisser. His lips leave you in euphoria. His soft pecks sending exhilarating bursts of energy throughout your body. This is a kiss like no other. You find yourself leaning deeper and deeper into each kiss, never wanting to come up for air. Your hands move to softly grasp onto his hair. His head resting upon your palm. The passion increasing within you both. A kiss that started so innocently, now leading you into a more loving embrace.

Tightening your grip onto his hair, you feel Munson pulling you in to him. It feels as though you both are not close enough to each other, despite being as close as you physically can. His hands begin to slowly trace to your front. It leaves you with ticklish goosebumps and a desire to adjust your stance. Your breathing feels heavy against his lips, leaving him with a bright smile.

Pulling away to gather yourself, you maintain eye contact as you feel his hands unbuttoning your jeans. Your chin raises in pure nervousness, but there is no else you would rather be with in this moment. Munson smirks, biting his lip as he enjoys your body’s movements. With shaky breaths, you feel him pull down your zipper. You begin to feel yourself twitch at his touch, desperately craving it but also apprehensive. You have never done this with a man before. It’s not that you have never wanted to, never thought about it. You just have never felt comfortable enough to explore this side of yourself with anyone else. Not until now.

As Munson slowly moves his hands from your stomach and taunts his fingers at your boxer’s waistline, you hear a sudden burst of the auditorium doors. Munson and you immediately drop and move towards the curtains. You quickly zip and button your jeans to avoid any trouble. Your positions switch. Munson has you pinned against another wall, shielded by the velvet. His finger to his lips, directing you to remain quiet. His demeanor completely changes. His defenses up, but ultimately watching over you. He saves you again, you think.

You both hear someone speaking. “Yeah, he’s definitely a bad ass. You can’t deny that,” the high pitched voice rings through the air. Another voice responds, “Yeah, I know. I’ve just heard Eddie’s ideas for campaigns and wish we could give that a try.” Munson grins and returns his gaze to you. “Eddie?” you whisper to him. “Until next time,” he replies. He gently places a peck against your lips - sweet and sincere.

With a sudden movement, Munson jumps out from the curtains. “Gareth! Ben!” he yells with his arms wide open. “Eddie! What’s up, man?” Gareth says, rushing up the stairs to meet him on the stage. “All good! Just teaching the newbie. Come out, newbie,” he says with an excited tone. You slowly appear from behind the curtains. “Hey, guys,” you say hesitantly.

“Hey J, did you end up creating your character?” Gareth excitedly asks. “We haven’t gotten that far, but we do have a new Rogue in our ranks,” Munson answers proudly. Ben laughs, “Oh hell yeah!” Munson looks towards you. His gaze shifting to those adoring eyes. “Let’s finish what we started?” he asks, as he pulls a chair out from the table for you. You smile and follow his lead.

As the boys take a seat around the table, they purposely leave the head chair empty. Gareth pulls out a book titled “Dungeons & Dragons: Basic Set.” He opens the book and quickly begins looking for a specific page. Once he’s found it, he smiles and slowly raises his head towards you. “Time to create your character,” he says confidently. One quick look at Munson leaves you with butterflies in your stomach. “Let’s do it,” you say with a nod to your head.

note: ooooof! they getting hot & heavy 🙈🤤 edited 06.13.23

special thanks to: @strangersthanthings @eddie-of-hellfire @thoughtfulcopzonkpie; your reblogs are beyond appreciated. thank you c:

#Eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x male reader #Eddie munson x male #Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fluff #st fluff #stfanfic #gay eddie munson #gay fluff #gay couple

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