#bitter sam boy evening

[antiquarianfics]

The Best Things Take Time

Bucky has a code. You manage to crack it.

A/N: This took me so long because I wasn't really sure how I wanted to go about it. I'm pretty happy with it, I think. Also, my first request! I hope I did your brain-child justice. :) Warnings: Mild language. Based on this request. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to repost or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

----

Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date—even with Sam and Yori pushing him all the time. His triggers are gone, yes, but he is starkly aware that he still has a long way to go before he might be considered ready to give time and energy to another person on a daily basis. However, if there is anyone in the world that makes him reconsider his own rule, it’s you.

The two of you first formally met when Steve, Sam, and yourself finally tracked him down. You were kind to him, but you kept your distance. He never made many attempts to speak with you, but the short interactions he did have with you were short and clinical. He never asked, but he’s pretty sure you’re afraid of him—of what he’s done.

Despite this assumption, Bucky takes note of the way you drop everything to help him time and time again. You back him in Washington, you back him in Siberia, you back him in Wakanda, and you back him in Washington in the second go-round. He is appreciative—very much so—but he keeps his distance regardless. After all, he shouldn’t risk losing an ally by something as silly as small talk.

Things begin to change, though, when he runs into you at the airport. Both him and you felt the need to get on Sam’s back about giving up the shield.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, a little indignantly. You cringe a little at your tone, but you brush it off nonetheless.

Bucky shoots you an annoyed look before turning to Sam.

Throughout the mission to track down the Flag Smashers, you and Bucky bicker (even more than Sam and Bucky do). You challenge him on every opinion he shares, poke fun at every misstep he takes, and side with Sam for the sake of disagreeing with him. He returns the favor, and he ignores the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth.

Your interactions are not particularly pleasant, sure, but they’re existent—which is progress.

—

“Does he always stare like that?” Walker asks Sam, eyeing Bucky uncomfortably.

“You get used to it,” Sam replies.

You glare at Walker. His attitude towards you and your boys bothers you. His entitlement to Steve’s shield and name bothers you. He bothers you.

“Does she always stare like that?” Walker asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Only when douchebags harass my friends,” you deadpan.

You are plenty aware this is the first time you’ve called Bucky your friend, and you can tell he is too by the way his eyes shift from Walker to you. You’re not aware, though, that your concession of friendship serves as the push he needs to talk to you more.

—

It takes time, but over the next few weeks, Bucky manages to get you to open up. He’s surprised with himself by how he’s willing to talk to you; after all, people are usually trying to get him to talk.

Bucky finds out that you’re actually not as reserved as he thought, but you had heard both Steve’s stories of before and multiple people’s accounts of after. Your distance, you admit, was a consequence of you trying to give him space when everyone else was crowding him. Your teasing and bickering with him was a consequence of trying to create said space. The revelation makes Bucky’s heart clench: no one has made him feel so cared for in a long time.

Bucky sticks by his no dating rule, though. After all, you may be friends, and you may be acting nicer to him lately, but there’s no way you like him like that.

Or, at least he thinks so until Louisiana.

—

“Hey, Sarah,” Bucky says, flashing a charming smile at her from where he sits next to Sam and yourself on the dock.

“Hey!” You smack his chest with the back of your hand. “No flirting with Sam’s sister.”

He lets his attention shift to you, and he can’t help the surprise. He’s aware that you could just be enforcing Sam’s demand from earlier, but you’re so adamant. He thinks maybe he sees a flash of jealousy in your eyes, but he thinks, too, he might just be seeing what he wants to see.

Sam and Sarah continue to bicker before she shoos the three of you away from the boat. Sam and Bucky step onto the dock and begin to walk away before you, and they keep walking even when Sarah stops you.

“Subtle,” she says, smirking at you. You wave her off, your face heating up with a blush.

“Shut up,” you say, embarrassment entwined with each syllable.

Bucky thinks maybe—just maybe—you might like him back.

—

Looking back on the last few years, Bucky can hardly believe the journey you and he had been on. Being so distant most of your time together in the first few years, and then being so rude to each other the next few, and then needing a push from the Wilsons to actually do anything about your feelings… it was interesting, to say the least.

He remembers the day you agreed to leave Louisiana with him. It was an impulsive decision, but it led to the first time the two of you had truly been alone together. It led to inside jokes and deep conversations. It led to a genuine friendship.

“I’m headed out tomorrow,” Bucky informed you and Sam.

The three of you were sitting on the porch of Sarah’s house, conversation flowing from friendly jests, to Karli, to the boat, to whatever else. Your head shot up to stare at him, eyes widening.

“What? Why?” Your tone was a little panicked. Bucky raised his eyebrows at your tone. Sam laughed, and you shot him a glare.

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome, Doll,” he said. Ever since the incident with Sarah, he’d let a few pet names for you fall from his lips, and he smugly noted the way they made you squirm.

“Oh.”

“Well!” Sam exclaimed, clapping his palms on his knees as he stood. “I’m gonna go check on Sarah and the boys while you,” he pointed at the two of you in turn, “figure whatever is going on here out.”

You protested, but Sam was gone without another word. Neither one of you spoke for a moment, and you chewed on your lip.

“You’re really going?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“You can come with me, if you want,” he offered before he can think better of himself.

Your eyes shot to his, analyzing his face for any sort of jest. He seemed sincere, and once you decided he wasn’t pulling your leg, you responded.

“Okay.”

He remembers the day the two of you finally addressed that you were more than friends. Bucky, of course, has a no dating rule, and you? You had no such thing, but you weren’t dating either. In fact, you hadn’t since before Karli and the Flag Smashers showed up.

Bucky and yourself were at a bar, drinking and laughing with one another. He was sober, of course, but you were a little tipsy. You had a dopey smile on your face that he thought was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He still thinks your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

That’s when a young woman sauntered up to the bar. She was gorgeous; her long, black braids reached her waist, her lips were painted a bright red color, and she wore a halter top that left little to the imagination.

“Hi,” she said, grabbing your attention, shooting you a flirtatious smile.

“Hi!” You said, the alcohol making you friendlier than you usually are.

“I saw you across the bar, and I was jus’ wonderin’, would you wanna grab a drink with me? Maybe dance a lil’?” Her eyes dragged down your body and back up to your eyes.

Your eyes widened and you blushed.

“Oh, uh! T-thank you! I’m flattered, but, uh, I got my guy right here, and I kinda like him too much to date!” You sort of yell-whispered the confession to the girl.

She glanced behind you to Bucky whose eyes had also widened in shock, his mouth hanging open a little. The woman laughed and touched your shoulder comfortingly.

“‘s alright,” she assured. “Was worth a shot, though.”

She turned to Bucky then.

“Yo, congrats, man. You’re a lucky guy once you two talk that through.”

With that, she had left, and you turned around to Bucky.

“Look,” you said, more sober sounding than you’d been since the two of you arrived at the bar. “I don’t know what you think this is, or what you want it to be, but I’m all in if you are.”

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you without a second thought.

And he remembers the moment he decided he was going to marry you, if you’d have him.

The two of you were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment; after about two years of dating, you insisted you live together.

“Buck, you’re always here. All your stuff is here. I don’t think you’ve stepped foot in your apartment in a month. You’re just wasting money on rent at this point.”

You were leaned into his side, eyes glued to the tv screen. The two of you were watching The Princess Bride (it’s one of the many movies you insisted was so culturally significant that he had to see it). It was the way you would turn to him at your favorite parts, gauging his reactions to see if he loved it like you did; the way you would mouth the most iconic lines along with the characters; and the way you would sigh contentedly and cuddle further into his side at the romantic scenes that really pulled the realization from deep within him. And, perhaps, it was the way you produced the most ridiculous voice to say "Mawwiage! Mawwiage is what bwings us here today!" that truly brought the idea of marrying you to the forefront of his mind. Regardless, he knew he wanted you around for the rest of his already over-extended lifetime.

—

Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date, and he decided late in his life as a free man that he wasn't going to ever try and date anyone other than you. So, here he finds himself, kneeling on the ground in front of you with a ring extended towards your person, and hoping you'll say yes.

"Sweetheart, I know we've had a lot of ups and downs. We met when I wasn't truly myself, we got together when I was still figuring out who I am on my own—without Steve, without HYDRA—but no matter what, you've been there for me. You're still here for me.

"You deserve the world, Doll, and I want to give it to you. I want to be here for all your ups and downs, and I want to spend my life being to you what you've already been to me.

"You're my partner, you're my best friend, you're the love of my life. And if you'll have me, I'll be your king, if you'll be my queen. I'll be your husband, if you'll be my wife.

"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?"

You let out a laugh through a sob, pulling your hand to your face to quickly wipe your tears away, and you nod vigorously. You drop to your knees, pulling Bucky's face into your hands, caressing his cheek gently. Smiling, you respond.

"James Bucky Barnes, of course I'll marry you."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #tfatws!bucky x reader #tfatws!bucky x fem!reader

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

A continuation of Bad News First, Eddie. I am absolutely floored by the responses I received, and I will try my best to tag everyone who asked. I know it's not Eddie's part, but chronologically, Wayne's part felt right.

-

Of all the things Wayne’s been called, unobservant isn’t one of them. He’s lived in Hawkins his entire life. He knows who is who, what is what, and to keep his head down and believe there’s a cougar in the woods when he’s told.

So, when Nancy Wheeler shows up, asking questions, Wayne has answers. Is willing to give those answers because he remembers when little Will Byers went missing, and how Nancy and her friends had done more to try and find him than the entire police force of Hawkins. Nancy and her friends always seemed to be in the orbit of whatever terrible thing was happening in Hawkins these last few years.

So, foolishly, terribly, he doesn’t intervene. He thought they were like that Scooby Doo cartoon Eddie used to love; kids solving mysteries. If he’d known the true extent of the horror, he wouldn’t have let those kids go it alone. But he didn’t know then.

-

Still didn’t know the day he pretends to not know who Dustin Henderson is while swapping out Eddie’s missing poster. It’s easier than having to face someone who knows Eddie, someone who had been looking for him but failed to find him.

Until Dustin calls after him. Until Dustin speaks to him. Hands him Eddie’s necklace. Wayne can’t stand anymore, this breaks him. Dustin says he was with him, in the end. Calls Eddie a hero, said people would have loved him had they known him. It’s nothing Wayne doesn’t already know.

Eddie is his hero. He loves Eddie. And if he’d stepped in sooner, chased down these kids and asked just what the fuck was happening, maybe he could have changed the ending of this story.

-

Hawkins explodes into a hellscape days later and Wayne sets out to find Nancy Wheeler. If Eddie gave his life to protect these kids, then Wayne must strive to do no less.

Nancy’s got a good head on her shoulders, willing to accept any help offered. He can see how she’s survived this long. She gets in in touch with Hopper, who introduces him to Doctor Sam Owens and Lt Colonel Jack Sullivan.

-

He doesn’t think it’s fair that the fate of the world rests on the shoulders of a fourteen-year-old girl.

-

It’s Dustin who tells him the whole story, the night before the end. Either Eleven will win tomorrow, or she won’t, but the outcome gets decided then.

“I’m s-so sorry, Mr. M-Munson. We just… just left him there!” Dustin breaks down crying and Wayne reaches out to him, an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. If Wayne sheds a few tears, too, well. Who can blame him?

“Doctor Owens, a word,” Wayne pulls the man aside after the kids have gone to bed. “Dustin said… my boy is just yards away from our trailer. He didn’t even get out of the park. I understand it’s an all hands on deck situation, but can anyone be spared? Can anyone bring my boy back? I’ll go myself if I have to.”

Doctor Owens, a genuinely kind man, Wayne can tell, has tears filling his eyes just at the request. “Mr. Munson, we will do everything in our power to bring your boy home.”

-

Doctor Owens pays for the headstone. Said it was the least he could do since his team failed. Wayne tries not to be bitter about it.

The graffiti starts up almost immediately. Wayne doesn’t understand why.

-

He thinks he’s caught someone in the act, grabs roughly at the perpetrator and yanks. The Harrington boy stumbles up and back, a little bit of fear in his eyes but no paint in hand. He’s holding a rag and small container of paint thinner. A quick look between Harrington and the grave, he can see the half-cleaned headstone.

He’s never spoken much with Harrington, but Dustin has nothing bad to say.

“You know my boy?” because he can’t bring himself to say ‘knew’ just yet.

Harrington looks just about as haunted as Wayne feels when he says, so quietly, “Not as well as I would have liked, sir.”

-

Wayne is observant, but even he can admit it takes longer than he thought to figure out Steve Harrington. That boy had put himself between those kids and danger again, and again, and again, and lived. Eddie did it once and… well, Wayne reckons Steve thinks it should have been him. He won’t say so out loud, but Wayne sees a lot of his younger self in Steve, knows him in much the same way he knows himself.

Steve lives with a guilt he shouldn’t; this was Eddie’s choice. His reckless, dangerous, courageous choice. And they’ve got to learn to live with it. Steve’s parents are absent, and Wayne’s nephew is gone. Without any conscious decision about it, they’ve adopted each other.

Steve wants to know everything about Eddie. Every little story Wayne can come up with. And he, well, he loves that someone wants to know. Wants to remember Eddie with him.

“Bad news. I regret not knowing him sooner,” Steve confesses to him one day as they scrub the headstone clean again.

“Good news. You know him now,” Wayne replies.

“Do I?”

Wayne can’t answer that. Not honestly one way or another. How well can you know someone from secondhand information? Steve spent a total of five days in his nephew’s company but he helps keep his memory alive. “I don’t know. What I do know is that Eddie Munson won’t be forgotten when I die. And that matters.”

-

He gets in an accident at the plant. He doesn’t remember what happened, not fully, but he knows that Steve never left his side. Demanded his come stay in his big empty house. Easier to move around in, with all the open space.

Wayne wasn’t really attached to his apartment anyway. If he was going to live the rest of his life in a home that had never known Eddie’s presence, it could at least be with someone who had known Eddie’s presence, however briefly.

-

Wayne wonders if he’s done the right thing sometimes. Indulging Steve’s need to know Eddie. At first, he thought it was fine, because learning about Eddie seemed to alleviate Steve’s guilt. But now.

He’s watching the boy fall in love with a ghost.

Helping it happen, even.

Robin and Steve aren’t nearly as quiet or subtle as they think, and Wayne’s observant. They seem to forget that Wayne’s just old, and not deaf and blind.

Or maybe, they’re comfortable enough that they don’t truly hide from him.

And it hurts his heart to think this (because he’s thinking it about his Eddie, wonderful, loving Eddie) but Steve deserves to love more than a ghost.

-

And then the kids graduate. Start to go to college. Steve acts fine, but he’s not. Wayne knows. It’s like he’s losing his purpose, but Wayne’s just as broken. Not strong enough to push Steve away. To make Steve go, too.

Honestly, he’s a little afraid that if he tried, then Steve would follow right after Eddie.

So, he doesn't. He decides he needs Steve, and perhaps even more so, Steve needs him.

-

Then, five years after Eddie’s death, the call happens. It’s about his piece of shit little brother, Wyatt. He’s gotta go, though. Because this is one last strand of Eddie. Eddie’s mother has been gone longer than Eddie, and fuck, Wyatt deserves to know. Wayne doesn’t claim to be a saint; if his brother wasn’t being released, he’d probably never tell him. He’d let him die in that prison believing his son is alive.

He doesn’t even know if Wyatt will care that Eddie’s gone. But he’s got to find out.

Steve drives him to the airport and no matter how many times Wayne says he’s coming back, Steve doesn’t seem to believe him.

-

But it’s not his shitty little brother waiting to greet him in Tennessee. It’s Eleven.

“Sorry for the lie, Mr. Munson,” she says. “I wanted to tell you as soon as I learned but Doctor Owens said that, this one time, we needed to be right before we could be honest.”

It’s Eddie. It’s Eddie Wyatt Munson, who looks at him shyly, almost as if afraid, from the apartment doorway Eleven takes him to. “Hey Uncle Wayne.”

It’s five fucking years too late but he pulls Eddie in a bone crushing hug. “I love you so much, you little bastard. Don’t you ever, ever do this to me again.”

-

Wayne learns.

They had found him, barely alive. It was better, they said, to take him away. Let the town cool down while Eddie healed, but he was catatonic for the better part of these last five years.

“Eddie woke up empty,” Eleven says softly, apropos nothing sitting next to Wayne as they watch Eddie discuss next steps with Owens. “He could be told to do things. Drink this. Eat that. His eyes never focused on anything. Doctor Owens called him a shell. I asked what that means. He said that Eddie’s body worked, but his mind did not because Eddie was not in his own mind anymore. But I knew he was in there. I had to get him back.” She reaches a hand out, waving in the general direction of Eddie’s head.

This surprises Wayne. “You brought him back?”

“Memory by memory,” Eleven says, picking at her pants leg. “Even the painful ones. Doctor Owens says every memory shapes who we are, even tough ones.”

Wayne looks at Eleven, a young woman of nineteen now, but remembers how scared and brave she’d been at fourteen.  “Words cannot express how thankful I am for you.”

“I did it for you. And maybe a little bit for me.”

Wayne makes a humming noise. Not truly questioning, but an acknowledgment of what she said. If she wants to share her reasons, he won’t stop her. He’s just not going to pry.

“I chose my friend. I chose Max.”

He knows. “You made the right choice.”

“I know. I am not guilty about it,” she frowns as she thinks about her words. “But Dustin is my friend, too, and I knew Eddie was his friend. But I cared more about Max. I had to do all I could to make it right. For you. For Dustin. For me.”

Wayne doesn’t have words, so he just pulls Eleven into a hug. It must convey all he needs because when she pulls back, she beams at him.

-

Wayne fills Eddie in on what has happened as best he can. It’s such a jarring difference, speaking to Eddie about Steve than it had been speaking to Steve about Eddie. Eddie just looks confused for most of it and doesn’t really ask followup questions, but Wayne understands. Eddie had known Steve for five days and he’s got time to really get to know Steve now. Steve thought all he’d ever have of Eddie is someone else’s memories.

“Just give him a chance, Eddie,” Wayne says.

“Give him a chance? As if I’d waste it,” Eddie breaths out, all wonder and awe and- Well, maybe Wayne isn’t as observant as he had always thought. “He took care of you when I couldn’t. He cares. I don’t think there’s a chance I wouldn’t give him.”

“How long have you had a thing for Steve?”

Eddie stutters over his words, eyes wide and wild. “That’s not- why would you think- when have I ever!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know this about you?” Wayne chuckles and lies, as if he hadn’t just watched all the pieces slot together in this moment.

“So, we’ll be living with Steve Harrington?” Eddie is blushing but he blows past Wayne’s question. “Will he… be okay with me being there?”

Steve’s been loving a ghost, is what Wayne thinks. Steve’s been in love with a ghost and this. This is a ghost story that can have a better ending. But he’s not going to make those declarations for Steve, so what he says is, “yeah. Steve and I had each other when we needed it. Now I need you, so Steve won’t mind at all.”

Eddie smiles to himself, pulling a strand of his hair to hide his face behind.

If he hadn’t just figured it out two minutes ago, that would have been a dead giveaway that his boy might be a little bit in love with Steve.

-

He calls Steve. Tells him he’s coming home and bringing a guest. Steve says that’s fine, he’ll fix up Robin’s old room into a guest room.

-

“This isn’t the way to the Harrington house,” Eddie observes from the passenger seat of the rental car Doctor Owens had paid for, to get them from Indianapolis back to Hawkins.

“Steve won’t be there. He comes here when he’s overwhelmed.”

“The cemetery?”

Wayne shrugs, “we both come talk to you. Steve always starts with the bad news, you know. I think you should start with good news. Just this once. Ah. See, there he is.” Wayne points and Eddie’s eyes follow.

Something akin to wonder passes over Eddie’s face and he all but falls out of the car before it’s even stopped.

Wayne thinks he’ll give them five or so minutes before following.

#steddie #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #ok i promise next update will be eddie pov #i just wanted eddies part to move past this graveyard meetup #so waynes pov first #also eddies part could end up being the longest and more difficult part

[jazzsonly]

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ

pairing(s): tara carpenter x fem!reader

warning(s): angst. tara being a bad gf and overall MAJOR asshole. lowkey bloody description of heart break. barely proofread. ooc tara.

summary: oh the things you did just so you could call tara yours.

*inspo. song: favorite crime by olivia rodrigo

part two.

────────✬────────

when you first started dating tara (six months ago) you loved nothing more than how caring she was. she stood up for you when there was a chance to(no matter how silly,) she jumped at the chance to walk you to your car, she would constantly beg for you to stay over, and so on and so.

you also just adored her nerd obsession with horror movies, no matter your distaste for them, she somehow made you love them too in a weird.

in short, you just loved tara as a whole…back then.

now? you still love her but it was a bitter love.

feeling like you couldn’t even recognize your own girlfriend was a hurt of it’s own. after the ghostface attacks, it was like tara, well wasn’t even tara. she were constantly drunk, you feel like the only time you ever got a hold of her was when she called drunk out of her at some frat party needing a ride.

she no longer attended your dates, didn’t want you to stay over, oh and the constant arguing. mostly her accusing you of things and claims you to be clingy when you wanted to spend time together.

one night it got so bad, she were just yelling at you while you cried, feeling so small. sam had to step in and stop the girl before she yelled you to death.

despite all that, here you were settled on the couch and ready for movie night with the core four. as much as you loved them, no doubt that they were your second family. you couldn’t help but feel lonely in the moment.

nearing the end of jeeper’s kreepers and tara had neglected to sit next to you the whole night. in fact, she were seated with amber, her head leaning on the girl’s shoulder.

nothing but bitterness filled your mouth at the sight and the feeling.

sure you had chad and sam by your side but obviously you want your girlfriend by your side to cuddle with.

“that movie never gets old. a straight classic.” chad commenting while he stood as the credits rolled.

“facts.” amber then spoke, standing with the boy.

you stayed put while everyone piled to the kitchen for dinner, hoping tara would stay with you.

“tara.” you spoke meekly, almost afraid.

“what?” she was on her way to the kitchen as well.

“why didn’t you sit with me?” you watch as her hands coming to her hand, a big sigh, and an ‘oh my god’ under her breath.

“can you please not start tonight? i want to enjoy one night without you being a bitch.”

“tara, i’m not being a bitch. i just want to know why my girlfriend didn’t sit with me, but yet is cuddled with another girl.”

“okay, one i was not ‘cuddled’ with amber and two maybe i just didn’t feel like sitting with you, is it your abandonment issues? is that why you’re so fucking clingy?”

so much for opening up to her about your mom. you thought at the girl’s comment.

your leg bounced up and down, she were starting to raise her voice and the last thing you wanted to do was argue in front of your friends. it was embarrassing enough for it to happen in front of sam.

“nevermind.” you swallow a lump in your throat, trying to join the others but tara grabs to your wrist.

“no. you wanted to fucking complain so bad and ruin my life! you are such a fucking burden y/n. do you know that? you make me hate everyday with your shit and i’m sick of it.”

you intense chew on your lip, stopping the tears.

“well if that’s how you feel…”

“that is how i feel.” she threw your wrist down, walking by you as if she didn’t just shatter your soul.

you walk past the kitchen, uttering on about how you were heading to the bathroom.

somehow, with any strength you had left in you, you didn’t cry. you took a few deep breaths, repeating:

don’t cry.

don’t cry.

don’t cry.

before stepping out, to finally join the others.

as much as you wanted to laugh and be in conversation with everyone, you couldn’t. your mind wouldn’t allow you. all you could think about was tara.

why? why was she doing this me? why? when she claimed to love me much and to be in love?

how could she be doing this me?

who even was she?

it was like a shotgun to the heart, your blood and your heart, in pieces all over the wall and you couldn’t do anything but watch it splatter.

“y/n?”

you look to chad, “huh?”

“you okay? you’ve barely said anything?”

“yeah,” you clear your throat. “i’m good. i just don’t thinking i’m feeling too well, i should head home.”

despite sam offering you to stay, you declined and bid your goodbyes to everyone, well, besides chad who offered to walk you to your car.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, be good.” you joke, pulling the jock into a hug.

“yeah uh…listen, i heard all tara said to you and—

“it’s nothing…it’s fine, she’s just going through stuff.”

he paused, looking at you for a second. “that’s no excuse for what she said to you, y/n. she talked to you like she didn’t even know you. you shouldn’t let someone treat you like that…no matter how much you love them.”

“we’re all going through it, including you. trying to watch our backs for ghostface, even if things have died down a little, it’s still scary knowing he’s out there. so please take care of yourself, i love you. you’re my best friend…i don’t want to see you hurt…especially not from tara.”

you weren’t really sure want to say to the boy, of course you meekly told him you loved him too, pulling him into yet another hug. this time tighter and longer.

for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt loved. it may not have been from who you wanted it to be but still you felt loved.

you settled in your car, locking your door. you couldn’t help but break down, you felt so many intense emotions at once, you thought you could hold them in but chad’s speech brought them out.

✬

needles to say, you clung to chad every movie night for the past couple of weeks. it turned from best friend to a big brother to you.

he even took you out to breakfast, listening to you rant about tara and her ruthless nonsense. though he was a bit of an airhead, he gave you advice to the best of his knowledge on relationships. you didn’t take it, knowing it were no good.

the last time he actually dated a girl not just fucked one was in second grade. you still appreciated the attempt though.

tonight was yet again another movie night and you happily took the seat next to chad, who mindlessly put his arm around you.

“uhm, i was kind of hoping to sit with y/n?”

you had to make sure you weren’t dream.

tara wanted to sit next to you? you guys have barely spoken in two weeks. all it’s been is good morning text tara didn’t respond to until mid noon.

chad looked at you for approved and you gave him a timid nod. that’s all it took for him to give his seat up.

tara proudly put her arm over you, like chad had, taking you by surprise again. as much as you wanted to ask, you didn’t. you couldn’t risk ruining this sudden surge of affection.

the sudden surge of affection that lasted half way through the movie, until tara whispered in your ear.

“you think you’re so slick? fucking my best friend behind my back.” and there it was. you could smell a hint of alcohol on her breath.

thanks amber, for getting the parton. you sarcastically thought.

as best as you tried to ignore her, once again not wanting to argue in front of everyone. you couldn’t ignore tara repeatedly calling you a whore in your ear.

“slutting yourself out all because i don’t wanna go on a date with you.” and that’s when you broke.

you abruptly stood up, “enough tara.”

everyone’s eyes on you but you didn’t care. you had the courage chad had handed you and you couldn’t waste it.

“you hate me so much? you think i’m a whore? fine. i’ll be that and nothing to you at all. i’m done and so are we.”

— part two?

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter #mindy meeks martin #amber freeman #ethan landry #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin #scream six #ghostface #jenna ortega

[axelsagewrites]

Jamie Tartt*The Bet

Pairing: Jamie x f!reader

Word count: 5794

Warnings: jamie asking the reader out as a bet, prick jamie in the beginning, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, angst, a lot of fucks but this is Ted Lasso

Materlist here

“mate do you know who I am?” Jamie said, gesturing to himself as he Issac and Collin sat in the back corner of a crowded nightclub, “I’m telling you man I could get any girl in here. Guy too if I really wanted,”

“please bruv,” Issac scoffed, rolling his eyes. They were used to Jamie being a cocky prick on the field but after a few too many beers and Issac getting rejected twice in one night he was bitter and felt the need to prove something, “all you do is get laid. You’ve not had a girlfriend in like ever,” he said making Jamie roll his eyes this time.

“at least I can get laid. Getting a girlfriends easy,” Jamie said.

“nah he’s right mate,” Collin pipped up making Jamie roll his eyes yet again, “getting laid’s the easy bit, you can’t make them stick around,”

“Keeley stuck around,” Jamie tried to argue but this time his teammates just laughed, “what?”

“all yous did was hookup it’s not like yous were proper dating,” Issac said, Collin nodding in agreement, “face it Jamie girls only talk to you for sex,”

Jamie scoffed at the pair but the more he thought about it he was wondering if they were right. Sure, he and Keeley had been together for a few months before they split but every time, they saw each other it always ended in sex. Now he was thinking about it he wasn’t sure if he had taken her on an actual date the whole time, “if I wanted to, I could have a girlfriend,”

“prove it,” Collin said making even Issac raise an eyebrow, “if you can date a girl for a month and get her to be your girlfriend by the end of it, I’ll give you my car,” Issac let out a low whistle as Jamie laughed. Was he seriously considering this? A new car did sound nice though, “but no sex,”

“what?” Jamie said, well almost shouted as he ignored the confused looks from those around, “no sex for a month?”

“what are you some kind of addict?” Issac scoffed at the man, “Collins right. One month, no sex, serious commitment. Then you get his car,”

Jamie shook his head, scoffing as he leant back in his seat. He ignored the probing and teasing of his mates as he considered it for a moment. Sure, he could buy a new car but the feeling of driving Collins car to practise would be pretty sweet, “fine you’re on,” he said suddenly making both boys head snap around.

Collin for a second looked unsure before he added his final stipulation, “but we get to pick the girl,”

Issac and Collin had insisted you don’t find a girlfriend in a club so by the end of practise tomorrow they would assign Jamie his target. When the two came up to him in the locker room after practise Jamie almost regretted the bet when he saw their grin. “we’ve found her,” Issac said.

“the perfect girl,” Collin added, “oh and I’ve decided if I win, I get your car,”

Jamie shrugged as he stood from the bench, “fine deals a deal. Who’s the girl?”

When Issac pulled out his phone for a second Jamie almost felt bad. Almost. He recognised who the insta belonged to instantly. You were Rebecca’s personal assistant, so it was not rare for Jamie to see you floating around Richmond, but he’d never seen your insta before. “no sex yeah?” He said, taking the phone from Issacs hand to look through your pics, “bummer but a deals a deal. Its gonna feel so sweet driving that Lambo,” he grinned as he tossed the phone back to Issac.

“you’ve got a week to ask her out or you instantly fail the challenge,” Issac said, “and as the one not putting his car on the line I’m the captain of this bet,” Jamie rolled his eyes as Issac proceeded to lay down the law, “and if we find out you lied about any after date activities or skipped a date with her then you lose and will owe a fine of £1000,”

Jamie scoffed, gesturing like Issac was a mad man, “whatcha gonna do? Stalk me or some shit?”

“she’s pals with Sam so he’ll tell us,” Collin said before his eyes went wide, “which reminds me no one but us three can know,” he said before glancing around the locker room, “it’s a secret,” he whispered.

Jamie rolled his eyes before pushing past them both, “whatevs boys. Don’t worry I won’t gloat too much when I win,” he grinned as he walked out the locker room leaving everyone, but Issac and Collin confused.

It was as if as soon as the bet started you had disappeared. Jamie was used to seeing you running all over the place but the one time he saw you the first three days was you driving off in your beat-up car. For a second, he thought Rebecca should be paying you better. It didn’t help that each time either of his friends saw him they reminded him the clock was ticking.

On Thursday however when Jamie saw you walk past the gym door, he quickly dropped his weights, running out the room with no thought or care for Roy shouting after him to rerack his weights. You were heading in the directions of the locker room and Jamie saw this as the perfect excuse as he jogged up to your side, “looking for me,” he said making you jump, almost dropping your clipboard.

“Christ Jamie you scared me,” you said, trying to catch your breath and also not make a complete fool out of yourself. “but no, I’m looking for ted. Rebecca needs him to sign something,”

“funny that most girls want my autograph not his,” Jamie said, trying to put on his best charismatic laugh but when you only gave a small chuckle and not a giggle like he was used to him thought he may have to change tactics. “I’ll walk ya. I’ve gotta grab something from my locker anyhow,”

“that’s nice but you don’t have to,” you said, giving him a small smile as you clutched the clipboard close to your chest.

In truth while you were trying to stay professional right now you did have a secret crush on the famous football player. Yes, you knew it was cliche and you knew Jamie flirted with every woman on the planet which is why you were trying to not fall for his adorable smile right now, “ah come on let me keep you company,” Jamie laughed, knocking his shoulder into you, “gets lonely walking these halls,”

You laughed at his dumb attempts at flirting and hated how easily you were falling for it, “ah yes the three-minute walk might be the end of me,”

“good thing you’ve got me to keep ya going love,” he joked.

This banter and small talk were the longest conversation you think you’d ever had with Jamie, and you couldn’t help but notice that while ted was signing the papers, he hadn’t actually grabbed anything from his lockers. “tell you what love,” Jamie said as he held the locker room door open for you, “I’ll even walk you back to where I found you,”

“oh, wow Jamie Tartt, such a gentleman,” you joked.

As you neared the gym again, laughing at one of Jamies dumb flirty jokes you bumped into Sam who said hello with a very concerned look on his face. After he said goodbye to you and you headed back to your office he turned to Jamie with a far more serious look, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“eh nothing?” He said, completely caught off guard by the seriousness in Sams tone.

Sam sighed and stepped in closer to Jamie, “it better be nothing. She is a good girl she doesn’t deserve to have her heart played with,”

“calm down Sam I’ve no done anything,” Jamie said as he tried to get past his teammate, but Sam grabbed his arm to stop him, “seriously man I’m not gonna hurt her,”

“Jamie, I know what you’re like. And that’s fine you can do you. But I won’t let you hurt my friend,” Sam said sternly.

Jamie rolled his eyes as he took Sams hand off his arm, “for your information. I’m a changed man. I plan on being the perfect gentleman from now on, alright?” He said but Sam just narrowed his eyes, “honest man. Getting bored of all this casual pish ya know?” Jamie said as he stuck his hands into his short’s pockets.

It wasn’t fully a lie. Jamie had been getting bored of all the one-night stands and the drama that came along but Sam just narrowed his eyes further before silently heading back to the gym. Jamie rolled his eyes as he followed along and headed to jump on an exercise bike, ignoring how Sam had gone to go whisper to Issac.

A knock on your office door made you look up with a smile, “hey Sam, you alright?” You asked as you shut down your laptop for the day.

“yes of course,” he said as he walked into your office and slumped down onto the chair in front of your desk, “just wanted to see my friend, is that a crime?”

“I’ll allow it,” you laughed as you packed your bag, “you need a lift home?” You asked as you grabbed your car keys.

“I wouldn’t say no,” he grinned as he jumped right back out the chair and you both began your decent to the car park, “but I was wanting to talk to you about something,”

“what’s up?” You said as you locked your office door.

Sam sighed as he followed you through the corridors, “what’s happening with you and Jamie?”

You shrugged, honestly not sure yourself what was happening, “nothing really, we were just talking. Did he say something or?” You asked.

“kind of,” Sam said, his face screwing up for a second, “he said he was a gentleman now, but I worry. I don’t want you getting hurt,”

“I’m a big girl Sam,” you joked, nudging him, and making him laugh, “besides he’s Jamie tart. I doubt he meant it,”

“according to Issac he does,” Sam said which honestly made you more surprised than anything. You spoke to Issac even less than you had Jamie, so it was weird to think of him and Jamie having deep conversations about settling down, “apparently, he wants to settle down or something. I don’t know whether to believe it but why would Issac lie?”

“weird,” you muttered as you and Sam finally reached the car park and he held the door for you to slip out, “besides that doesn’t mean he wants to be with me,”

“don’t put yourself down,” Sam said, nudging you with his elbow as he sent you a reassuring smile, “he’d be lucky to even get one date with you,”

“you have to say that” you said as you rolled your eyes and pulled out your car keys.

As you were unlocking your car the door to the car park opened again and out walked a freshly showered Jamie, his hair still clearly damp. He didn’t have a right to look this attractive you thought but you’d been looking for too long as when Jamie looked up, he caught your stare.

He waved with a wide grin as he headed over to his own car across the lot. You gave a small wave back as you slipped into the driver’s seat. You glanced across through Sams window to see he was still looking at you and you prayed to god he couldn’t see how flustered you were as you tried to start the car. Sam had seen though, and merciless teasing followed you the whole drive back to his house.

Jamie figured he had time, so he spent the next two days flirting with you in the corridors despite Issac and Collin reminding him he only had to Sunday. However, Sunday was matchday and you were always in the owner’s box with Rebecca. While she was your boss you had grown quite close, so you often sat wedged between her and Keeley as you tried to keep up with the team.

“did Jamie just wave to you?” Keeley asked as Jamie ran onto the pitch. Your blush was undisguisable as you tried to shrug it off, “omg babes you fancy him?” She practically squealed as she clutched your arm.

“maybe I don’t know,” you said, hating the way his name was already making you smile. “he’s your ex though so- “

“nah babes go for it. I’ve got Roy now. Oh, we could double date how cute!” The rest of the match was spent with Keeley telling you how perfect it would be, and you figured if his ex-spoke so highly of him then how bad could he be?

The match went smashing with Richmond winning three nil and soon you were in the press room stood next to Rebecca as ted got interviewed and you took notes. You looked up confused when Rebecca nudged you, but she just nodded towards the door. When you looked through the window you saw Jamie lent against the wall by the door and when you looked back to Rebecca she just smirked and nudged you towards the door.

You silently chuckled at the fact she’d obviously listened to yours and Keeley’s conversation as you made your way to talk to Jamie. “hey,” you grinned, shutting the door behind you softly. “you did great out there,”

“was easy with you cheering me on,” he smirked as he started walking down the corridor with you following after him.

“who said I was cheering for you?” You joked.

Jamie held a hand to his heart in mock offence, “love you’re breaking my heart here. Here I was coming to ask if you wanted to go celebrate my glorious victory,”

“cocky much?” You laughed but rolled your eyes at the way he smirked, “fuck off not like that,”

“didn’t say a thing,” Jamie shrugged but the devious smile on his lips said something different. “c’mon whatcha say love?”

You paused for a moment, crossing your arms as you turned to face him, “what did you have in mind?”

“you, me, fancy restaurant,” Jamie said, stepping closer, his finger brushing over your cheek so gently it felt like a feather, “some nice wine. Just some wholesome fun,”

“wholesome fun?” You laughed, trying not to get lost in his eyes. It was unfair this allure he had on you.

Jamie chuckled softly, “course babe,” the pet names sounded so good coming from him and his accent, “haven’t you heard? I’m a gentleman now,” he said, his hand falling from your face making you miss his touch but laugh at the way he placed his hand over his heart, “scouts honour,”

“were you even a scout?” You laughed as he shook his head no with a cheesy grin, “suppose one date wouldn’t kill me,”

“trust me love. You won’t regret it,”

You didn’t want to say you were shocked, but Jamie was right. The night had been perfect. You ate some of the best food in your life, drank some ridiculously expensive wine, and even started to flirt back with Jamie over dinner. He really was pulling out all the stops.

He wore his best suit, with a shirt as well even if he couldn’t bring himself to ditch the trainers. He pulled your chair out for you, ordered dessert to share, he even insisted on walking you home at the end of the night. “guess that’s me,” you said as you stood by your front door.

“guess so,” Jamie smiled as he looked down at you, “told you you wouldn’t regret it,” he said, completely ruining the moment but making you laugh as you unlocked your front door.

“give it time. I might regret it later,” you joked as you opened your door, half wondering if Jamie was going to try invite himself in. You were also wondering whether or not to let him. The night had been good after all, and you weren’t usually so strict on the three-date rule.

“I’ll text ya yeah?” Jamie said since he had only just got your number on the walk home, “better not be a fake one you gave me,” he joked.

“you’ll have to wait and see,” you laughed. Maybe he wasn’t going to try make a move then you thought, “goodnight, Jamie,”

Jamie stepped forward. He’s going to kiss me you thought but instead he leaned in to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, “night love,” he said quietly before stepping back, grinning at the way he had left you speechless, “see ya soon babe,” he said as he began to walk down the street.

You waved after him, unable to speak before you closed the door behind yourself. This really had been the perfect date. Maybe Jamie was a gentleman now. When you went to get changed you felt your phone buzz and you laughed when you saw the text.

-just checking – Jamie

You laughed, texting him back instantly.

-as if I’d give you a fake number lol

Jamie grinned when he saw your reply before tucking his phone into his jacket pocket. However, as Jamie was walking home a thought crossed his mind. Fuck, what if he really did like you? Sure, Jamie knew the bet was probably a morally wrong thing to do but it was for a Lamborghini, Collins prized car. He spent the rest of his walk home telling himself it was alright, even if he did end up liking you what was the harm? He’d date you for a month then give you a clean, mess free break up.

Then another issue started. Jamie had fallen for you head over heels. You’d spent the whole night texting, the next week constantly flirting or hanging out after practise. Within two weeks you had been on three dates and Collin had commented on his dedication to win this car which only made Jamie feel worse.

He’d kissed you on your second date after visiting the movies. He even waited till after the movie was finished to do it. It did not help him not fall for you. If anything, it made it harder to stay away from you. Your third week dating you hung out every day whether it be grabbing lunch or making dinner at his house.

The only drawback was Jamie having to turn down your advances, insisting he wanted to take it slow. But by week four he didn’t even mind not having sex. The casual nights watching telly was enough for him. The way you would cuddle him on the couch or how you would lounge around his house with him, both of you wearing his sweats and hoodies. Seeing you in his hoodie melted his heart.

“three more days and the cars are yours bruv,” Issac had said to him during practise and Jamie realised a terrifying thought. What if you found out?

Jamie shrugged it off, trying to forget about it the whole time but it weighed him down the whole practise. Jamie deliberately hung back in the locker room that night, making sure he could catch Collin alone, “maybe we should call off the bet mate,” he said quietly as the last person exited the room.

“why? Scared she’s gonna dump ya?” He laughed as he patted his shoulder before leaving the locker room and now Jamie was left alone to feel like shit.

That was till a gentle knock snapped him out of his thoughts, “ready to go?” You smiled from the locker room door. Jamie put on his best happy face as he grabbed his bag, wrapping his arm around you as you headed to the car park.

The whole walk Jamie was silently thinking about the shit he had landed himself in. Then again, the bet never said he had to break up with you. Issac had said only him, and Collin were allowed to know. He could just let Collin keep his car and no one would need to know. Yeah, it would be fine. He was sure of it. Everything would be fine. Jamie had no idea how wrong he was and how badly this week was going to end.

Jamie tried to push it out of his head that night, but it was now the only thing he could think about. You were both laying on the couch, you being the big spoon while he rested his head on your chest. “You okay baby?” You asked while stroking his hair. “You’ve been quiet all day,”

Jamie was snapped out of his thoughts glancing over to you with a small smile, “Sorry love. Just one of those days you know?”

Jamie tried his best to act normal for the rest of the night but when it came time for him to say goodnight and head back to his place, he found himself unable to pull away when he hugged you. “You sure you’re good?” You asked, your face pressed into his chest while his head buried into your shoulder.

“Course love,” Jamie said, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder, “Just gonna miss you is all,”

“Jamie,” you laughed, pulling him off you, “You will see me in legit less than twelve hours,” you said smiling as you leaned up to kiss him gently, “I’m not going anywhere,”

“Promise?” He said, his eyes sheepishly looking to the floor.

You laughed as you reached out, taking his pinkie in yours, “Promise,”

For the next two days Jamie was extra cuddly, extra lovey dovey, and extra boyfriendy all round. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him, figuring maybe the one-month mark was a bigger deal to him than you first thought. You ended up getting dragged into one of Rebecca and Keeley’s girl talks and when you told them about it. “Maybe he wants to get serious,” Rebecca said as she snacked on one of Teds biscuits, “He might just be nervous about it all. I wouldn’t worry,”

“Yeah babes,” Keeley said as she gave your arm a squeeze, “Jamie legit adores you he’s probs just nervous cause you’re his first long term girlfriend,”

“You think?” You said, nervously picking at the threads of your jumper.

“Totally,” Keeley said, looking to Rebecca who nodded in agreement, “Maybe he’s just nervous about your one-month anniversary,”

“Is that really a thing?” Rebecca asked, sitting down her biscuits in disbelief at the idea one month was a big deal.

Even you looked to Keeley confused, “Well yeah,” Keeley said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Its sweet when you think about it. You’ve made him all soft,” she teased, poking your sides, and making you laughed. You were finally able to relax, and Keeley had even suggested getting him a gift.

The first gift you came up with that Keeley instantly agreed upon was sex. You really liked Jamie but this whole taking it slow thing was going really really slow. On top of making sure to wear something nice under your clothes on your one-month anniversary of your first date you had also gotten him, well made, a gift.

You didn’t exactly want to spend tons on a one-month gift, especially since Jamie had expensive tastes with his footballer salary, but you’d picked up a cheap football from a sports shop and a sharpie. You covered the ball in notes ranging from inside jokes to cheesy pick-up lines including ‘my favourite footballer’ and writing ‘you scored the best goal on’ then adding the day of your date. You were quite proud of it but just encase you took a box of chocolates as well.

The day had been so busy that you didn’t even get to see Jamie before you were rushed off to deal with a Rebecca crisis. No matter how busy you were you made sure to text Jamie at least once in the morning but when Jamie saw your text, he couldn’t help but smile.

-Happy one month anniversary babe, pick you up after work for a hot date?

Jamie was blissfully unaware of what was to come as he typed out his response before heading to the pitch. Collin had insisted the bet wasn’t over till the end of practice and Issac had let it slide, seeing the regret in his friends’ eyes when he realised, he was going to lose his car. Jamie couldn’t care less about the car though as he thought he was finally free from the bet.

He wanted to run up to your office as soon as practise ended but Issac insisted, he wait with him and Collin in the locker room till everyone else had left. When Danni finally left the room, waving bye to his mates as he left, Collin let out a heavy sigh as he pulled out his keys. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said, his voice already choked.

“Mate its just a car,” Jamie said, already so fed up and wanting to find you.

“Bruv,” Isaac said, holding a hand to his chest, “a moment of respect,” he said, allowing Collin to whisper a goodbye to his keys as Jamie rolled his eyes, “Okay Collin its time. Jamie won the bet fair and square,” he said as he pried the keys from Collins hands and handing them to Jamie who sighed as he took them.

“I really, really thought she’d have broken up with you by now,” Collin said, shaking his head as he collapsed onto a bench, his head hanging low.

Jamie rolled his eyes at the dramatics of it all as Issac patted his shoulder, “I didn’t think he could go without sex for this long,” Issac added before nodding at Jamie, “Fair play mate but if you do dump her just don’t be a dick about it,”

“And for the love of god do not dent the car,” Collin pipped up as he lifted his head however when he did Jamie noticed all the colour draining from his face, “Eh mate. Bit of a situation,” he muttered, nodding his head towards the door.

Jamie spans around on his heels and his heart dropped to his stomach when he saw you stood there, tears already trickling down your face. Jamies mouth dried up as he searched for the words when the ball and chocolates slipped from your hand and clattered to the floor. “It’s not what- “Jamie tried to say but you were already backing away before turning to run down the corridor. “You fucking idiots,” Jamie yelled at his teammates before taking off down the corridor after you.

You’d think a professional footballer would catch up with you with ease but when Jamie ran into the car park you were already unlocking your car. “Wait,” he yelled, running over, and closing the door with his hand you’d tried to open.

“Why?” You spat, “Do you need me to prove you won?”

“Babe its- “Jamie tried to say, his hands reaching to hold your shoulders.

You slapped them away in an instant, “don’t babe me,” your voice was filled with anger but the tears streaming down your face was what broke Jamies heart, “You fucking used me. For some fucking bet. Is that all this was to you?”

“No of course not,” Jamie said, his hand grabbing his hair as he backed up slightly so at least you weren’t trapped against the car, “it was just some dumb bet but it’s not like I don’t like you. I really fucking like you,”

“Yeah right,” you scoffed turning to get in the car before stopping, “What did you even win?”

Jamie didn’t know if this would make it worse or better, but he knew lying was definitely the wrong choice, “Collins Lambo,” he said, his voice sounding more like a question as he waited to see your reaction.

“You only dated me because of a fucking car?” You yelled, not caring who heard anymore, “You broke my heart because of a car?!”

“I didn’t wanna hurt you-fuck,” Jamie said, his eyes growing wetter with each second as he tried not to throw up from the guilt, “I promise you that I like you. I think I fucking love you and I’ve never felt this way before and- “

You sighed, turning away as you tried to choke back a sob, “Be honest with me Jamie,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes, “If they hadn’t made the bet, would you have ever asked me out?” You waited for his response but when you turned round to see his jaw hanging open, his eyes wide, you knew the answer. “Don’t talk to me. Ever again,” you said as you jumped into your car and quickly sped off.

Jamie had well and truly fucked it. He felt like his body was on fire as he began to slap his own head, muttering a thousand fucks under his breath. Meanwhile you were trying your best not to be blinded by your own tears as you drove home alone to curl up on the couch and wallow.

A few hours passed and you were still on the couch with a massive tub of ice cream and a million texts from Keeley asking for a follow up from your ‘we broke up’ text. You couldn’t even bring yourself to text her back let alone go answer the door when someone rang your doorbell. Then it rang away. “Go away,” you groaned, sinking further into the couch.

Ring. Ring. Ring. The bell echoed through the house till you tore yourself off the couch, ready to go scream at the idiot at your door. But when you pulled it open and saw his big guilty brown eyes staring back at you, you couldn’t say a word. Especially not when you noticed the red puffiness around his eyes and the way they were already watering again.

“Is that my hoodie?” Jamie asked, his voice quiet and broken as he nodded to the oversized hoodie covering your frame. You paused for a moment before nodding silently. Jamie sighed, his eyes growing sadder, if possible, “Can I come in?”

You paused again, not knowing if your vocal cords could even manage the potential screaming match. Jamie shuffled on his feet, his eyes moving to the floor before you finally spoke, “Fine,” you whispered before heading back to sink into the couch.

Jamie followed, shutting the door behind you both and tentatively walking to your living room. His eyes scanned the room and he almost cried when he saw the ice cream, blankets, and crappy reality show on the tv. He’d made you cry. He’d broke your heart. No matter what happened he knew he could never forgive himself for that.

"I know I had no right coming over here," he started as he sat on the opposite end of the couch trying to give you as much space. You were already curled up on the other end, your eyes glued to the now muted tv as you avoided his gaze, "and believe me I know I don't deserve ya. But I couldn't walk away leaving you thinking I didn't like ya because I did and I still do," he said, his voice dripping with desperation as he searched his pockets.

He began to pull out one post it after the next making you look up at the sound of paper ruffling. They were all pretty crumbled up but Jamie picked them up one by one, "I love how smart you are and how you seem to know everything but don't explain things to me like I'm stupid," he began to read off the post it's chucking them on the couch before grabbing the next, "I love how when you laugh you look at the ground to try hide your face,"

"I love how we can lay on the couch together and not say a word

I love when you hold me and scratch my head

I love when you get sleepy during a movie and crash out on my arm 

I love hearing your snores even if you pretend you don’t

I love holding your hand in public and getting to show you off to my friends"

Jamie continued as he read off at least 40 more post its which you picked up one by one as he grabbed the next. When he went to grab another your hand reached out to stop his and for a moment you allowed yourself to enjoy his touch, "I know it's not as good as the football," Jamie said softly, "but I mean it all. And I hate myself for hurting you,"

"you should never hate yourself," you muttered making a small smile creep on Jamie's lips, "When did it stop being just a bet?" you asked, scared for the answer.

"During our first date," he said making you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "I swear. I was blind for not seeing you before but on that date, it was--you were incredible. I couldn't stop thinking about you all night. I tried to call of the bet, but Issac thought I was just scared to lose," Jamie rambled before pausing for a moment and sighing," I never wanted to hurt you. I promise. You have to believe me," he said as he reached for your hand.

"It's just hard," you said, your voice already choking up again making Jamie almost cry himself, "and I really want to believe you because for fucksake Jamie, I love you too," the words he had longed to hear shot daggers into his heart.

"If you want to never hear from me again, I’ll go," Jamie said, holding your hands tightly and making you finally meet his eyes again, "but if you'll have me ill spend every day making this up to you. I promise. You, this, us. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me,"

You paused for a moment as Jamie's heart pounded in his chest, "One more chance," you whispered making Jamie break out into a grin, but you quickly added, "but if you so much as step a toe out of line,"

"I won't," Jamie cut you off as he gripped your hands tightly, "I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll be the perfect boyfriend, honest," you couldn't help laughing a little at his eagerness. Jamie raised your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to each of your knuckles, "

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fluff #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tart x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tart fluff #jamie tartt angst #ted lasso angst

[monamourbladie]

hi!! <3 im the anon who req the dan heng headcanons.. TYSM IT WAS AMAZING!!! OmG OMG OMG best idea ever. well not best idea ever. but imagine like blade is super distant and cold towards you as he normally is, right? but he secretly likes the reader for plot purposes. but one day, the reader is js like "oh well" and talks to someone else for a change, having fun w the other person instead of blade since blade 'doesnt' like them. would blade just stand there and watch knowing he cant rightfully do anything since it was partly his fault (and he has too much pride for himself), or would he try to get you to talk to him again?

HI ANON AHH tysm for the requests :D i’m glad you enjoyed it so much~! that’s a great idea i was so excited to write this one i tried to write it as fast as possible LOL

Secretly Loves You - Blade x F!reader

warnings: none~

You had been apart of the Stellaron Hunters for about a year now. You had grown the closest with Silver Wolf, as you both shared an intense love of games. You were picked up from their time on the Xianzhou Luofu for your healing capabilities and quickly became a core member of the crew.

Elio liked you and so did Sam, Silver Wolf adored you and Kafka respected you. But the person who you wanted to like you the most seemed to despise you.

Blade — Kafka’s golden boy (you always swore they had something for each other, but neither ever confirmed it and nobody could guess if they were together or not) Fierceness aside, he was absolute eye candy to you.

Blade was extremely closed off — it’s been like that since day one. It took him months and months to warm up to Silver Wolf (and now he treats her like an irritating little sister that he secretly adores but claims he hates), and even though it’s been almost a full year, you haven’t been able to break through to him just yet.

You didn’t exactly know why. It wasn’t like he was talkative and excitable to everyone else by any means, but he definitely showed at least some kind of enjoyment speaking with people. With you? It seemed like he absolutely hated you.

Maybe it was the fact that he hated being nursed back to health due to him wanting to die so badly. You never understood that, and were just simply doing your job to protect him.

You’ve lost count by now of how many times he complained to you about helping him was unnecessary. It irritated you, but you always smiled at him and told him you were just doing your job.

“I told you, I don’t need your help,” he grunted as you rubbed special Xianzhou healing oils on his back. You bit your lip as you continued to massage it into his skin, “Do you ever not complain?” you said teasingly as you pat his back playfully.

He only grunted in response. He hated having you see him like this. He was shirtless on the med bay table, sitting up with his chest bandage off for once. His upper chest was heavily scarred and destroyed from all the times Jingliu killed him over and over again. The first time you saw those wounds, you were determined to try and heal them so he wasn’t forced to wear as many bandages on the daily.

You were using special Xianzhou healing oils to increase the healing speed — and within a few months, you were noticing small bits of healthier skin, showing it was working.

“Complain all you want, Bladie, but it’s actually working to help you.” He glanced back at her with a glare, “I told you not to call me that, L/n.” His voice was bitter and cold as always to you.

It hurt, but eventually you grew thicker skin to it. It hurt especially because over the months you began to harbor a nasty crush on the immortal man.

Silver Wolf loved to tease you about it, and swore she would help get you two together. But little interactions like these with Blade helped cement in your mind that there was no way he saw you as anything more than an annoying healer.

What you didn’t know was that Blade actually harbored feelings for you, too.

Due to his painful past, he was very adamant about not getting close to anyone again out of fear he’d lose everyone he loves again — especially a lover.

He thought you were absolutely beautiful. He secretly loved the extra attention you were giving him, and although he wanted nothing more than eternal rest, he was thankful that you were giving him a distraction from the pain.

He just had no idea how to tell you. He had a reputation with the Hunters as being the cold and brooding one. He definitely wasn’t sure how to approach a girl he liked and say “Hey, I like you” without feeling like an absolute pathetic fool.

It stayed this way for months. Neither of you saying anything to the other that would let the other know you like each other. Until eventually, a new member on the medical team started to work for the Hunters — a man named Leon.

Leon was everything Blade was hoping he could be for you. He was handsome, he was nice, gentlemanly — he was attentive to you and could speak his heart. You and him quickly became close, and there were even some moments where Leon took care of Blade instead of you.

He absolutely was growing jealous over the man. Some nights Blade wondered if he could just kill Leon and get on with it and swoop you off of your feet, but being a romantic was not Blade’s strong suit by any means.

His final straw finally made him snap to go to Kafka for advice. After his weekly checkup with you, he got home and realized his bandages weren’t tight enough around his chest, so he had to go back to the med bay. As he walked back to the med bay he froze, seeing you kissing Leon from a distance.

He felt his anger consume him and he decided to just deal with the loose bandage and fix it himself. He stormed off as he felt the Mara flare up within him, making him angrier than he normally would’ve been.

Of course you’re moving on. Why wouldn’t you? He never made any move on you to let you know he liked you. Why would you risk waiting around when a perfect man for you was right there?

Blade found himself at Kafka’s door as he knocked. She opened it and frowned seeing Blade angry, “Bladie? What’s wrong?” she asked.

Blade pushed himself in the door and slammed it behind him, huffing in frustration, “Can I just fucking kill Leon already?”

Kafka raised as brow as she motioned for him to sit down on her couch. “You can’t kill the rookie. Why do you want to?”

Blade unbuttoned his shirt and jacket and slid it off of his arms, revealing his bandaged chest. “Can you fix these for me? Y/n’s too busy getting fucked to deal with it.”

Kafka bit her lip as she smirked. “Am i sensing jealousy from you? Over Y/n and the rookie?”

He grumbled as he shook his head, running his fingers through his tousled hair, “Would you just leave it and fix this shit for me?”

Kafka raised her hands in defense as she sat behind him, beginning to unravel the bandages. “You just want it tighter, right?”

“Yes,” he muttered, looking out at the photo of them all on her wall.

Blade, Elio, Sam, Silver Wolf, Kafka, and Y/n were in it. He felt his heart ache seeing her so happy beside Silver Wolf. She looked just as happy in the photo as she did leaning in to kiss Leon.

The image of them kissing was seared in his brain, and it made him angrier the more he thought of it.

Kafka, whose used her Spirit Whisper on Blade long enough to understand when he was angry, rest her hand on his shoulder. “Blade. Talk with me. Why are you so angry right now?” she asked, her voice gentle with him.

He was silent for a moment before realizing this might be his only shot for help. He sighed, “…It’s about Y/n. I… I like her,” he said, his gravelly voice low and soft as he spoke. Kafka was the only person he felt comfortable opening up around.

“And I’m angry that she can’t see that. She knows I have a hard time expressing myself. So why couldn’t she tell?” Kafka unintentionally let out a laugh at his commentary.

He turned around, glancing back at her confused, “You’re laughing at me? Seriously, Kafka?”

“No — it’s just… have you even attempted to tell her that you like her? Everything I ever see, you’re ignoring her, glaring at her when her back is turned, and badmouthing her whenever you’re alone with her and she’s patching you up. It hurts her, Bladie. I refuse to believe that you think you’ve made your feelings clear,” she replied.

Blade blinked in confusion. “But I like her. I don’t treat anyone differently than that.”

“Are you even aware of how many people think we’re dating?” Kafka asked him. “I’m sure she thinks we’re dating, too. She probably gave up and moved on with that rookie.”

“Gave up? Does she like me too?” Blade asked quickly, feeling a slight glimmer of hope. Kafka shrugged, “It’s so obvious. She definitely gave up trying since you made no effort to show you were interested.”

“Well — help me out, what am I supposed to do now? Did I fuck up already and lose her to that damn rookie?” he asked her.

Kafka sighed, sitting back against the couch. “I don’t know. I’d recommend asking her tomorrow and just pray that you have a chance still. I know you really like her.”

Blade grumbled at this and nodded, grasping at his shirt and sliding it back on over his head now that Kafka had finished bandaging him up.

“Yeah, well. I don’t know if I’m that lucky. She was kissing him and seemed to be very happy with it,” he said with a bitter tone. “Thanks.”

“If it comes to it, I can always pull strings and check with Elio-“

“No,” he said firmly, standing up to leave. “I don’t want to know the answer.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next day sometime after lunch, Blade headed to the cafeteria with his heart pounding. He had never felt this anxious before, not for a long, long time.

Just tell her you like her. She’s just confused, that’s all. It’ll be fine…

He saw you sitting alone at one of the cafeteria benches, obviously on your lunch break. He took in a breath and walked over, sitting across from you.

You looked up from your data pad and smiled, “Hi, Blade. Did you need me to fix your bandages already?” you asked sweetly.

He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks burn from the kindness in your voice. “No. That won’t be necessary. Kafka fixed them last night.”

Your smile visibly fell a bit and Blade cringed at himself. “Oh, Kafka… right. Well, what did you need?”

“I’m not with Kafka,” he said quickly. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea?” you raised a brow, curious as to where he was going. “Wrong idea about… you and Kafka?” you muttered. He could sense a bit of irritancy on your end at the thought of them together.

“Right. We’re not. But… you and that Rookie. Leon, right? Are you?” he questioned. You seemed surprised that he asked and you let out a soft nervous laugh, “W-well, no… but. I mean, it’s complicated, I guess.” you took a sip of your drink as Blade tensed up.

“I want us to be, because the guy I like really, really doesn’t like me. So I’m just cutting my losses and trying to move on, I guess. It just so happens Leon has an interest in me. I’m just anxious to make the jump,” you confessed. There was no way he’d figure out it was him, so you felt comfortable saying it.

“Don’t,” Blade quickly said. “Don’t date Leon.” You furrowed your brows at him, “I’m sorry, why do you care? As far as I’m aware, you hate being around me. Quite frankly, I’m shocked you’re even speaking to me right now.”

Blade felt offended that you believed so strongly that he hated you. “You think I hate you? Why the hell do you think that?” he questioned.

“Because you’re always so cold and closed off towards me! You always are grumpy whenever you have to speak to me and have me work on you, you’re closed off and never speak to me unless you absolutely have to, and it honestly hurts! I don’t know why you treat me this way, but I’m tired of it.”

Blade felt like a total idiot hearing you open up like that. Kafka really was right…

“I don’t… I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, averting his eyes out of embarrassment. “I like you, Y/n. I just had no idea how to deal with it. I figured you’d just… know.”

You couldn’t help your eyes widen at his confession. “You mean to tell me this entire time I’ve been trying to get over you, you just assumed I knew you liked me?” you gawked.

“Yes?” Blade replied. It was so obvious that he was so, so bad at relationships but clearly was trying hard. You could only giggle at this, shaking your head. “Jesus, Blade, you’re really something, aren’t you?”

Blade wasn’t really so sure how to answer your comment. You started to smile, “So, since you don’t want me to go out with Leon… I’m assuming you want to take me out on a date instead, right?” you asked.

Blade felt his cheeks flush again as he nodded, “I would love to.”

You smiled and stood up, walking over to him and leaning in. “I get off of work in 4 hours. Meet me at my room at 6, okay?” you said, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

You were shocked to see the man actually blush at your action. He looked up at you with a smile and nodded, “…Okay. I’ll see you at 6.”

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #yingxing #blade hsr #blade x reader hsr #yingxing x reader #masterlist

[rosie-writings]

Driven by Holy Force

Summary: You had been friends with Sam and Colby since middle school, and it took the success of both of your channels for you to realize that only Sam could satisfy you.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Drunken sex (consentual), Sam x Reader smut, Lovelorn Bitter-sweetness all around— I’m not responsible for the fuzzy feels

Words: 5.6k

No Y/N Used

Title is from ‘Mine’ by Sleep Token

The last time I stepped foot in this club, I was a shaking horrifyingly new green bean to the party space full of established content creators. 

Now I couldn’t keep up with the amount of greetings and glances that shot my way. I kept a smile pulled at my painted lips even though I shook to my core. My heart raced under my ribs, and I desperately needed a drink in my hands to hide behind. I needed an anchor, I needed a place to stay comfortable and out of the spotlight tonight, I needed someone—to find something—

Maybe it had been months now—years—since I gained my own separate platform and business apart from my best friends, but I still felt dependent on them. I remember Sam and Colby posting these dumb videos back in high school and I roasted their asses for being dipshits on the internet. 

I guess it paid off considering the room they gave to me in their new house. My room in their new house was bigger than my downtown apartment.

When they told me they were moving to LA, I remember standing shell shocked with questions. For how long? Why? Will I see them again—And then they asked me to live with them.

How much audacity did two boys have in order to ask the younger girl who followed them around like a lost puppy more often than not to move across the country with them?

They didn’t ask without giving me the ultimatum that I had to focus on my own content and actually post a video more often than every six months. I agreed because who wouldn’t try it out at least once? I was only nineteen so if it didn’t work out, I wouldn’t have wasted precious time. This was the time to bulldoze my way through questionable opportunities. Technically we were all kids still; they were 21, nearly 22, and I was told that girls’ brains don’t turn on until they are 24 and boys’ brains don’t turn on period. 

I just didn’t expect for my channel to blow up alongside them. If they hit a milestone, I hit it six months later. 

Now I was 24. They were 27. And life was still on an incline. 

Everyday I was stunned by the achievements I somehow made. Perhaps authenticity and the exploitment of embarrassing universal experiences were things people my age really did want. I grew up imagining living the perfect life alongside the perfectly polished A list celebrities. I was nowhere near that and somehow, I had it so much better.

The major issue that I collided head on going 120 miles per hour wasn’t a massive internet scandal like I expected, but it was the way my stomach flipped when Sam looked at me from across the room.

Call it an overworked brain, call it a lack of sleep, or call it a lovelorn heart that was too afraid of being thrown away; whatever it was, it was out for blood. It made home in the fascia of my body.

God, nothing came of us in our past lives. Not when we found each other between classes in middle school. Not when we skipped school and whispered in the dark alleys of abandoned buildings. Not even when we woke up under the same roof like we always wanted. It was now. Now after the success, after the hard work. 

We were stable.

Suddenly I had time. Suddenly I had some leeway where if something blew up in flames, I would be alright.

Now I was feeling risky, and somehow my stomach caught onto it.

”Oh my god, finally.” I heard the voice pierce through the thoughts I couldn’t shake myself. I turned to a red drink pressed to my nose. I grabbed it before it spilled down my front. “She wins a Streamy and suddenly is fashionably late.” I burst out laughing and hid my blush with my hand.

”Tara, shut the hell up.” She grabbed my wrist and that was when I found my anchor. 

She led me to the table our friends parked at, and I sucked down the drink by the time we greeted each other. Two shots down and we gossiped like it was the end of the world. It felt like it. The colors in the dark room illuminated their eyes and sparkles in their eye make up, and I wondered if every night would feel like this as long as they were around. 

It took years, but here I was finally surrounded by girls who accepted me, who I didn’t need to pretend around.

The problem was, they saw right through me.

“Oh my god!” Vereena gasped and raised her hand towards me. I turned to her in expectation. “I forgot to say—I saw you and Sam out on what, like Tuesday night or something?” My face flared at the name and my heart skipped a beat because yeah, we did do something on Tuesday night. To be fair, Colby was stressed sick and lying in bed all night trying to schedule meetings. He told us to leave him the fuck alone because if we stayed in the house, we all knew we would coax him into having fun like swimming in the pool at 2am in the dead of winter.

”You—What?” I laughed. “Stalking me, are you?” 

“Me and Tara literally were meeting up,” she said as she lifted her hand to her. Tara laughed as she agreed with her and shook her head to intervene. “We stopped at the Trader Joe’s right there on the—the—and you guys were—“

”She’s right, I totally forgot. We got stuff for an apartment clean out night, and you and Sam were getting dinner or something.” I glared at Tara for egging this on.

”Colby needed us out of the house so we just got some food before we saw some friends—Why are you weaponizing this?”

”I’m not weaponizing,” she burst out laughing. “I’m just saying what a coincidence.” That toothy smirk and interlaced fingers made my eyes roll to the back of my head.

“You’re an idiot. We literally aren’t—“

“No one said anything about dating,” Tara said as she sipped her drink with raised brows. “Why did Colby even need you gone?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t wanna know the answers to, Tar—“

“Uh no?” I laughed. “He was literally freaking out about getting shit done, I don’t fucking know—“

“Oh!” Tara gasped. “Speaking of—“

I stood straight as I felt arms around me. They came from around my neck and rested in front of me, face pressed against mine.

“Speaking of? What the hell does that mean?” Sam’s voice is loud in my ear and I drowned in it.

“Oh you know, just talking about Colby’s meltdown earlier this week,” Tara replied.

“Whoa, excuse me,” he said from behind Tara. She looked back at him with a laugh. “I literally was actually working unlike these bafoons.”

Good thing Sam pulled away and hugged the other girls at the table or else I would have collapsed. 

“Oh so what you're saying is you kicked them out so they could go on a date, right?” 

“What—“ Colby asked, completely taken off guard. “No? They got dinner then grabbed stuff for us to watch movies and actually chill. What do you mean date?”

“Oh my god Tara, you’re being weird,” I said, but as I looked at her, she shook her head with that pesky smile. I decided to interrogate her sometime before the night was over.

“How was last night?” Sam asked as he made his way back to me. I stayed with my best friend overnight after the party at her house because she was utterly blacked out. I was as well—don’t get me wrong—but she had a different kind of black out in her system.

“It was great, I don’t remember anything.”

“Jesus fuck,” he laughed. “At least you’re here in one piece—“ I didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed up and down my body. “—and she’s not, like, dead, yeah?”

“Yeah Sam, literally—I think we slept all day and Tara was the one who called us both over and over to make sure we were up before everyone came to get us ready.”

“You look really nice,” he said immediately after. My smile dropped.

“Thanks, you do too.” 

And he pulled his hand away from my back; his palm grazed my arm as he stepped back. I didn’t realize he even held me there.

“I’m getting drinks, do you want something?”

“Yeah, whatever is fine.” He nodded and took other people’s drink orders before retreating to the bar.

I stood in disbelief that Tara said that. To Colby’s face as well. Now I retraced every step I took with Sam; perhaps it could have been taken like we were dating.

But we all knew we weren’t. We had been best friends since middle school. It was clear; none of us liked each other like that. That was how we stayed together for so long without heartbreak or problems.

So I wouldn’t allow it to be a problem, no, this feeling in my stomach might have confirmed Tara’s words, but it didn’t matter.

The words would never leave my mouth.

Colby caught himself in conversation a few tables over, and I stayed with Tara and our friends at the table for only a few more moments until Sam came back and slid me a drink.

Of course it was the drink I always ordered for myself. I didn’t have to ask for it anymore; obviously he had known it forever now. Tara eyed the drink, my face, the drink…

Sam left without a word and mingled with the same group Colby was in.

It got out of hand now, I knew, and Tara’s words made it much more tangible than it had to be. No one had said anything to my face—nor their faces—yet, and for it to happen so suddenly and during a time of weakness nearly broke me.

But how could I not let my body not react when I looked up and saw Sam as he spoke and laughed with friends? He looked too good tonight, he always did, but I never chalked it up to be this kind of good. His glasses, his hair, his face; so familiar but so different. Then his eyes caught mine. Fuck. Too pretty, too blue in the lights; his head leaned to the side in question.

I hardly finished two drinks but they had to have done something to me because what were these thoughts? 

“You good?” I felt a hand on my arm.

“Totally! I was thinking that I’m bored,” I said as I looked at the girls.

“We’re waiting for a couple more then we were going to party, I promise!”

“You would be pregaming at the game wouldn’t you?” Vereena jeered, and while Tara glared at her, I laughed and grabbed my drink.

“When we’re ready, come and get me.”

“Sure thing!”

Who else was I to go to than the boys?

But Sam turned around and walked towards me before he noticed I was headed to them. I paused, and when he turned, he gasped and halted right in front of me.

“Oh hi,” he said quickly. “I was about to go so hi to some people, but—“

“Alright, I was just—“

“It’s fine, I haven’t seen you for like two days.” His arm linked around my neck and I rolled my eyes.

“Please, it was a night.”

“In the morning it will be two days.”

“Well, aren't you keeping track.”

“No,” he dragged out bashfully. We walked haphazardly from our friends and deeper into the club where the lights were far and few between and the music was louder until I felt it reverberating my teeth.

“Tara said I fuck ton,” he laughed.

“What are you talking about?” I shouted over the music. We caved into each other, my hand linked with his that was over my shoulder.

“She made fun of us being on a date right in front of Colby.” I looked at him with crazy eyes.

“What are you talking about? So we were on a date?” THat was when he smiled so wide his face flushed.

“No, nothing like that.”

“Nothing?” I gasped. “I mean, I don’t blame her, it was feeling kind of date-ish.”

“If you think that was a date then maybe you need to be shown what a real one is.” We stopped walking and I looked back at him with a smile fallen face.

“And you would be the one to show me?”

“I didn’t think you’d ever want to have this discussion.” His smile was long gone as well. We faced each other, so close that with one deep breath we would touch.

“I didn’t realize there was a discussion we needed to have.” He shook his head in defeat.

He took a deep breath then stepped away.

“Sam—“

“I don’t—You don’t—“

“I know,” I said firmly without breaking eye contact. “I know.” I repeated with more assurance than I ever felt before.

A second.

Another.

He inched closer.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t smile and he didn’t look away. I swallowed down nothing—my tongue was so dry—but I looked back at him nonetheless. And then his hand came up and touched my face as if he couldn’t resist it. My hand held his wrist just in case he was an idiot and pulled away.

“You’re so dumb, such an idiot.”

“I’m an idiot?” I gasped. “You are! You’re the one who won’t look away from me and then have the audacity to call me an idiot when you want to kiss me so bad.” That cracked a small smile from him.

“No, I mean, in all places, you decide to let me kiss you for the first time in a dark club away from all our friends?”

“God, and we aren’t even drunk. What is wrong with us?”

He smiled widely before he grabbed my face with two hands and pulled me into a kiss.

Of course I held onto both of his wrists now—just in case he was an idiot for a second time since everyone knew he was—but this only caused him to step deeper into me and knock me off balance. I gasped against him only for his tongue to divide my lips and taste what was behind.

“Sam,” I gasped his name against his mouth and he only hummed into me. One of his hands fell down and held my waist—tugging, grasping for something—and my arm wrapped around his neck. Fuck, he couldn’t get close enough to me.

My heart stopped the second he moaned into me. I could barely hear it, but I felt it in my mouth, on his skin. He kissed me like he meant it. I would taste him, feel it for days, and even if I wanted to forget, I knew the numbness of my tongue would itch for more and more—

“Oh my god—“ I leapt from him faster than how this all started. He too looked back to the voice, Tara, and he smiled widely. “I fucking knew it you motherfuckers, gaslighters if I’ve ever known them, and you damn well know I do—“

“Tara, chill,” I laughed. “If it makes you feel better, it was the first time that happened.” 

She gasped with wide eyes.

“ShIt, sorry I—“

“You’re fine,” Sam laughed. His fingers tangled with mine. “We were just coming back, actually.”

“We were?” I whispered as we followed Tara back to the tables.

“Shit,” he expelled and looked at me with a look I hadn’t seen from those familiar eyes. “What else did you want from me?”

I looked straight ahead even though I knew his eyes were hooked on me.

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “Whatever—Whatever you could think of I guess.” He sucked in a breath and neither of us said a word until we joined with our friends again.

His grip on my hand tightened exponentially.

“Someone get these jackasses more drinks since they clearly haven’t had enough to chill,” Tara said. I glared at her and Sam walked up to Colby. My heart was in my throat at that point. There was something about Tara spilling the beans to our friends about our kiss mixed with the sight of Colby locking eyes with mine and them slowly widening when he realized.

His lips ever so slowly parted and he smiled with a shaking of the head.

“Fucking knew it,” he said. I didn’t hear him, but I read his lips and Sam shoved him back as he walked past him for a drink. Colby and I stepped closer together as a smile pulled at my mouth and he laughed loudly. “You are so fucking dumb,” he laughed still, and his hands raised in self defense as I wanted at him.

“I’m not dumb; he is.”

“Do you know how hard it is to read you? You literally say and do four different things. You had the poor man pining for years.”

“And I was supposed to know that? Maybe if he just sucked it up and kissed me—“

“Jesus fuck, just blame everything on me, what don’t you? If you want me to kiss you that bad—“

I choked on myself as Sam grabbed me and kissed me there in front of everyone. I swore I combusted the moment I heard my friends get loud, and Sam smiled into this kiss. Of course I pushed him off way too fast for him, but he accepted it.

He didn’t let go of my hand.

He didn’t let go of it all night. 

We partied, drank, sang, and talked until we forgot time existed. I couldn’t get this fuzzy ringing out of my head either. I did shots with the girls, Sam got me another drink, and if fourteen year old me knew where I was that night, she probably would have spontaneously combusted.

Because Sam? No way.

No fucking way.

But I kissed him, tasted him, and drank with him and sat on his lap like it had been normal for years.

Perhaps it should have been

I grew antsy.

I couldn’t think straight and I toppled over my shoes. When did they get so tall? And when did it get cold?

We were outside, we were on our way home. Not home. Colby spoke to Sam and it felt like they schemed something behind my back, they always did that, didn’t they? Sam shook his head and I was about to ask him what was up until Colby slipped him the hotel room key card.

Oh.

That’s what was going on. 

And he got into a separate Uber.

Sam and I were alone. 

No amount of training could have gotten my heart strong enough to handle this night. I hoped the Uber driver didn’t hear its pattering in its place, if it was even there anymore.

Sam’s arm was behind me and I leaned into him; I didn’t know what to say because then the entire world could hear. Suddenly it was as if every word I could possibly say was for Sam and Sam’s ears only.

His voice broke a thank you as we left. Thank god whatever hotel they booked for tonight was close to the club. Did that mean Colby went home? No, he got into that Uber, right. And he followed two girls in, there was a fourth person I thought. I didn’t remember shit—

The closing of the hotel room silenced my busy brain.

Sam pinned me to the door and it was all blood and guts from there.

I memorized the way he tasted as if to make up for lost time, and his hands did the same on my skin. I was so cold, so hot at the same time that he warmed me but sent chills down every inch.

”Holy shit, you’ve driven me so fucking crazy for so long. I didn’t think this—“ Sam couldn’t waste another second of empty air. 

A noise yanked from the back of my throat when his arm latched under my leg and pulled it up. My jaw dropped when he rolled his hips into mine and I could have blacked out. Maybe it was the alcohol that amplified my senses, but either way Sam’s touch was enough for me to lose it.

”Can—Can feel you through your jeans,” I whined. I didn’t know what I said, I just needed.

”Yeah baby? I won’t—fuck—won’t even make it to the bed—“

”Need you now.”

He watched me intently when his hand slipped down and palmed at my underwear. I flinched because they must have been disgusting after so long—

He had a visceral reaction.

His moans cut straight to where he touched me, and I pulled him closer, closer.

”Please.”

”No need to beg.” His voice was gentle.

Fingers moved my underwear to the side and he teased me once as if to ready me, but there was no use.

”Holy shit,” he moaned yet again when two fingers immediately slipped into me. “You’ve wanted it for so long, haven’t you? You’re already ready.”

”I thought you were going to touch me after you kissed me the first time.” He choked a laugh.

”Yeah and then make not only our first kiss but our first time together be in a club? Absolutely not.”

”Oh so you planned to torture me like this?” 

“I mean look at you; you’re writhing for me like I’m never going to touch you.”

”Just please—“ My head hit the door when he furiously tapped the spot inside of me. The leg that supported me caved, and he pinned me harder to the door. And that was when his mouth latched to my skin. I didn’t care. I wanted to wake up and see the red angry bruises from the night before.

Wanted the world to see them.

”Sam, I swear to god, just get inside of me.”

”Fuck,” he groaned against my skin. “Okay, okay.”

“Holy shit—Oh fuck oh fuck,” I gasped in anticipation. He moaned as he freed himself from the confines of his jeans and didn’t waste any time removing any of our clothes—

I held my breath when he filled me to the brim. He paused. I felt his breath stop as well. My entire body shook with the adrenaline that he caused, and for a second I wondered if some people were genuinely made for others.

“Shit, look at me, look at me,” he said. His voice had been deathly quiet since the moment we stepped foot behind this door. His hand latched to my throat and pushed it to the wall. And as he stared deep in my eyes like he did at the club when he kissed me for the first time, he thrusted into me once, twice—

I had to close my eyes or else he would have killed me.

“Fuck! Sam please just—You feel—“

“Feel so fucking good, oh my god,” he finally moaned louder. His head tossed back. My hand caved over his hand that pinned down my waist tightly. He sped up, everything felt faster and faster, more intense. 

“Fuck me, oh god, fuck me Sam. I need you so hard—“

“I know, baby, I know.” He gasped under his breath as he gained better leverage of my leg that he held over his elbow. 

This time, he knocked the breath out of me. 

“Holy fuck—yes, yes, yes,” I moaned and more inaudible words poured from me. I was inconsolable. I couldn’t control anything that came from my mouth anymore. 

And I thought I was the one we had to worry about being too loud; his moans mixed with mine in the hot air between us, and I swallowed them down with every distracted and messy kiss.

”You—Ugh,” he groaned loudly and tossed his head back. I watched in disbelief as that beautiful face twisted with a pleasure I could only imagine before. “I’m so obsessed with you holy shit.”

”Bed, please, need it hard.”

”Okay—“ I bit my lip to distract myself from the empty feeling when he pulled out of me. His hands grabbed me with a fervor they never had and I gave him control as he yanked me around and towards the unused bed.

I knew he tried to throw me down, but I didn’t let go of him and forced him down on top of me. I caught him in a kiss, and a whine broke from him as if he never thought he could touch me like this. I knew. I could tell; I could read him like a child’s book. 

“Off,” he demanded, and that was all it took. I helped him yank off the black tank that was a bit too tight already. I didn’t dare try to help him with my skirt; clearly he wanted all of me to undress, to undo, by himself.

As he took off my clothes, he kissed down my body, and I scooted back and properly lay on the pillows. I needed some kind of support—another kind of anchor—because this new side of Sam was something I almost didn’t handle. He almost shot me through the atmosphere with an adrenaline fueled pleasure that was so foreign to me.

“Taste so good,” he quietly hummed in between kisses.

”Haven’t really tasted me yet,” I gasped with my hands tangled in his hair. He’s hooked his head as his fingers slid my underwear off completely. 

“Just your skin is enough—“

But it wasn’t all.

I had to bite the back of my hand when his tongue pressed against me. One of his hands held down my hips as the other shoved a thigh back. 

“Sam—“ I cried and he moaned against me and tasted me, pleased me, more and more. It was like he couldn’t get enough; I couldn’t get enough, and he needed to give me everything until I was satisfied.

Could I ever be satisfied by him? I was selfish. I needed all of him all the time forever, maybe then I would be satisfied.

”Ugh! Oh my god, please,” I broke.

”Please what?” Fuck that sweet voice. Maybe he would never get the chance to satisfy me, he would kill me first. His finger tips ever so lightly swirled against me where his tongue made disgustingly wet, and his eyes flashed up at me with a look that made me forget every word I learned.

”Please—Hands, I need you—“

”I know that, how do you want me?”

”Fuck—You know!”

”Want you to tell me.” Another whine escaped me as he kitten-licked me once, twice. “Say it.”

”Fingers! I need your fingers inside me, please. Finger me and—oh fuck!” It was incredibly slow, I know that, but the intensity washed over me like a wildfire when two fingers pushed inside. The confidence in his touches alone were what sent me spiraling.

”And what?” Another noise came from me. I didn’t know where that gentle confidence came from. Did his other girlfriends get this? What about me? Mine. He was mine now and no one else’s.

”Need your tongue, please. Put your mouth on me.” The sentence still hung in the air when he dived back into me. This time he used his arm against my lower stomach to pin me down from writhing. I don’t remember what I said; I couldn’t hear the words that poured from my aching throat. All I knew was that it was enough for him to keep going and going until tears blurred my vision. “Sam, please. Please, I‘m—“

”You what, baby?” That fucking teasing.

”I’m going to cum.”

”Oh,” he said as if he didn’t already know that. And he sat up to his knees; his eyes watched his hand as it lazily fell down the work he did on me.

”No please! I want—“‘

“I know it feels good,” he cut me off. “But I want things too and if I’m not inside of you again literally this second I—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Something nasty in me wanted to find out what he would do.

”Then hurry.” I sat up and fumbled with the top two buttons of his shirt so that I could at least slip it off his head, and he worked his jeans off.

”Holy fuck just—oh god—just stop,” he demanded and grabbed my wrist. “Lay down.” 

“Sam, come on,” I whined through gritted teeth.

Finally he kicked his jeans and underwear to the floor.

”The amount of times I’ve imagined you in my bed is—is unreal,” he said quietly as he crawled over me. My stomach dropped.

”Then why did you have so many girls?” A disgusted laugh broke from his mouth.

“‘Cause you didn’t want me—at least I thought. And how was I supposed to ruin what we had?”

“You wouldn’t have,” I gasped as he slid teased me up and down with his tip. My head shoved deepening into the pillows and I needed a break from watching him or else I would have passed out.

“I didn’t know.”

“But how?”

“How didn’t you?” The grit in his voice tied my throat in a knot and he firmly pushed into me. He didn’t give me any room to run away—not like I would have—but he pinned my thighs back. I had to take what he gave me. Good thing I wanted nothing less. 

“How didn’t you?” I shouted back.

That was when he wrapped his hand around my throat and actually pinned me down. My hand held onto his wrist and he came nose to nose with me.

”Wanted you so bad—holy shit—wanted you for so long—“ He couldn’t even finish his sentence, he needed his mouth on mine. I drank him down like he was the last water on earth and I hadn’t drank in weeks. He tasted like heaven in my mouth, and I wished I could feel more and more of him. I knew him all too well, and now I wanted to know him in every way physically possible.

“You don’t even know,” he laughed when he pulled away. A gasp shoved out of me when he linked my leg over his arm. I tried to listen to him, but how could I when he was so infinitely deep in me I didn’t have any more capacity for words. “Literally—I literally imagined it was you when I kissed other girls. Pretended I fucked you and not them. Fuck, it was never enough.”

”Sam,” I gasped at the confession. What was I supposed to say to that? The tears really never cleared up. Not with the unreal stimulation, not with the desperate confessions falling off his sweet tongue. “Wanted you. I was so mad—“ He cut me off with more kisses.

There was enough time to talk later. Right now he decided he needed to kiss it all away and make up for what we lost.

I lost track of time. Any amount could have passed and it would have felt the same. Maybe he fucked me so hard I would feel him for days, but never would this feel like only that. He was more than that, and I should have accepted it long ago. It must have always been there, because two years of living together wouldn’t have brought these feelings, no. I must have wanted him before. Before everything. 

“Oh my god,” he gasped for breath. “I love you so much, shit I love you.”

”I love you too, you know I have.” He nodded.

”So close,” he whispered this time. That haze in his eyes gave it away. 

“I know, inside of me. I need your cum in me.”

”Are—fuck—Are you sure? You—You aren’t on birth control—“

“I don't care, I'll deal with that later.”

“Fuck, you’re really going to kill me, aren’t you?” I couldn’t say anything else, and I smiled from the over abundance of butterflies in my stomach from his words.

”Fuck—I’m coming,” I gasped. I don’t know where it came from. It was like only he had an on and off switch for me.

”Yeah? With me then, baby.” 

I couldn’t even kiss him as I hit my high. It more so grabbed me by the throat and had a death wish for me. We moaned into open mouthed kisses; clearly he was too overcome to kiss me back as well. I held onto him like I was scared he would fall away from me, but how could that ever happen?

He got even closer to me, and pushed me down as tightly as he could. My hand tangled in his hair, nails leave their marks on his skin.

I wanted to live in this silence between us; make it my permanent home. There was nowhere else I wanted to be, and there was no more longing in my tired heart. How stupid I felt. Hopefully he felt the same.

Kisses trailed up my neck. I was lost in the feeling of his gentle touches across my skin. Thankfully he didn’t make a move to get off of me because I didn’t have the strength to fight him to stay down on me.

And I don’t know what came over me, the words just tumbled out.

"I don't think I can settle with just dating you," I mumbled. Sam stared back at me in anticipation. My heart skipped beats like a rock across the top of slick still water.

"What are you saying?" His words were careful.

"Even if we got married, calling you my husband wouldn't amount to what you mean to me, what you are to me."

"Not even marriage is good enough for you," he sighed. I laughed at his artificial annoyance. "Of course I'd be stuck with the one insatiable person alive."

I grabbed his face with my hands.

"You're the only one who's satiated me. What we are doesn’t. The only way I'd be satiated without you deep inside me is the promise that we would be together even after this lifetime." I don’t think he blinked. He stared at me, lips parted with bated breath. Even as we laid connected still, and it was so far past the point of being disgusting, he pushed against me harder.

"Fuck, you’re the beginning and end of me."

A/N: Requests are open

Love, Rosie

#sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach smut #minors dni #18+ only

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Sarcasm's Rec List 2: Electric Boogaloo

[Thank you to everyone who voted!]

Masterlist Previous Rec List Mundane Macabre (main blog)

[Hardcover/Anger Management ship]

Red is Hood’s Favorite Color by mango_sushi98

Sonnet 29 at the End by ew_selfish_art The Rapid Growth of the Fenton family tree by Lunaml (First entry of the series)

If you find a vigilante in the dumpster by lunamugetsu (WIP)

The Night Will Come But Not To Stay by ectoentity (WIP)

Friendly Neighborhood Vigilante by Elizabehta_Beilschmidt  (WIP)

Somehow whatever’s eternal in me knows whatever’s eternal in you by DemonicoAngel (WIP) (This has to be one of my favorite works in the hardcover ship) To hell and back by Ocearna (WIP)

The Night Will Come But Not To Stay by ectoentity Advent Reunion by Shynnohwen (First entry of the son of the hood series)

[General Recs/no particular tag]

This Way Madness Lies by ConspiracyCrows (WIP)

Foundling At The Door by Spaced_Ace (First entry of the House of Elle series)

I can be both even if it’s hard (and it’s hard) by multi_fandomfreak (WIP) (What if Sam and Tuck went to get Jazz before Danny came back out of the portal?)

Staring is rude but so am I by Imshookandbi (Let Sam unleash that anger at her parents, as a treat)

Ghosts on a plane by NightShiftShenanigans

We All Have Our Christmas Traditions by Multisakublossom (Tucker-centric)

Alfred and the Tiny Attic Squatters by Shynnohwen (WIP) (Alfred is the real patriarch of the batfam, we all know this)

Like and Survive - Phantom's Guide to Young Hero Survival by robinasnyder (WIP) (Grown up danny, first hero, gives life advice, makes ripples) Visitant Lights by Shynnohwen

5 + 1 Meeting the Nightingales by elizabthemerald

Please Don’t Take My Sunshine Away by FearlessHades (WIP)

Son of the hood? By Valiantlybold (first entry of the Danny Wayne series, wonderful) Wayne’s Haunted Mansion by Tathartiel (WIP) Spelunking by SummersSixEcho (First of the Ghost in the Family series) regular boy: daniel wayne by phantom_o_writes (WIP) Dad from Mars by Animefangirl1221 (WIP)

Undead Lockpicking or How Danny shamed Superman into changing his locks by Milaley Contractual obligations by Calix, Tathartiel (A twist on the usual DC recs: This one is steeped to perfection with Hellblazer lore. Wonderful and epic, well done to the authors!)  

[Dead Tired]

The Batfamily Can’t Communicate by miistical

Bitter, had the Heart by CastrianAmore (WIP)

[Demon Twins]

The Sketchbook by Notrus You’re Not Who I’d Thought You’d Be, and I’m Glad For It by Nanenna

The Parent Trap by Nanenna

my starlight by hollowgast1  (WIP)

Loss Like A Severed Limb by Littlestartopaz

The Devil’s After Both of Us by TheWritingOwl

[Dead Silent/Deaths Dance]

Full Time Hero, Full Time Disaster by halfagone

Lex Luthor’s Ascent from Supervillainy to fatherhood by halfagone (WIP) (This feels like reading an epic) By My Count by TheStrange_One (WIP)

[Dead Serious]

Artificial Wingman by TheSleepyKitsune (WIP)

Love Like You by DisillusionedDanny (WIP)

Press Heart to Subscribe by Die_Erlkonigin6083 (WIP)

Webbing Up A Family by Agelaius_Ace

Peter the Pizza Guy by Irisen  (WIP) Along Came A Spider by RagsnBones (Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker) Butler Spider by Danny_shells (WIP)

Time flies by (bye) by whyiseverynametaken

Little Red Spider Hood by Cashmire

You With the Watercolor Eyes by DefinitelyNotIndecisive (WIP) A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba (WIP) Homesick by NotSoSweetHeh

Red and Blue are hero colors by Cashmire (WIP)

Spider-Man or Spider-Spider by disappear_rapidly  (WIP)

Spiderhead by emmacortana

Archnomaly by Songue85 (WIP)

Nothing Left to Lose (Dick in New York) by seekrest (WIP)

A/N: Congrats to 3am me for double checking the links worked properly. I hope y'all enjoy these reads!

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #hardcover ship #dc #peter park #peter parker in gotham #peter parker vs gotham #sarcasm's rec list 2: electric boogaloo

[satans-helper]

Bring a Friend

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~6800

Warnings: it's a threeway with HEAVY slash. Don't like it, don't read it. (voyeurism; oral sex w/ M & F receiving; dirty talking; bottom!Sam; Danny is a bit of a dom; fingering all around; protected anal & vaginal sex) 18+ only!

@mackalah sent a call to the universe asking for a Sanny x Reader fic inspired by the song Lost in the Fire by The Weeknd. I've been writing Sanny fics for a long time and I never get tired of doing it. I think I was one of the first, if not the first, writers in the fandom to write a Sanny threeway, actually...and I never thought I'd write more of those but I felt very inspired by this song and the idea...even if it doesn't fit your specific image, I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it ;)

---

Sure, you had reconciled with the fact that Sam would never love you as much as he loved Danny. At first, their overwhelming affection and adoration for one another was kind of cute to you. Seeing Sam so enamored with a boy was adorable–quite special, really. You loved that he could love a best friend so fiercely, so passionately. But then it had become clearer and clearer throughout your relationship that you would never be even close to a priority no matter how long you were with Sam or how close you two became–Danny would always be closer, and Danny would always be number one. 

So things ended. Amicably enough, thankfully, and you still saw Sam–and by default, Danny–all the time. You were friends. But you weren’t sure how to respond when Sam started sending you pictures that showcased more of their friendship than you’d ever imagined. Well, not seriously imagined, anyway.

The first one was almost passable as innocent–a picture of Sam and Danny’s arms slung across one another’s shoulders, Danny leaning in and pressing his lips to Sam’s cheek. 

Cute, you texted back. 

Jealous? Sam replied.

You balked at your phone. Sam was ridiculous. Of you or of him?

Either

Nope

Hmm… 

After that text, he sent you a picture of them actually kissing–Danny was planting a big one right on Sam’s mouth and Sam was smiling into it, arm outstretched to capture the moment on his phone.

What about now?

You stared at the picture, flabbergasted. It was kind of hot, you had to admit, but you also felt your chest tighten with bitterness–you’d really tried with Sam. You’d been patient and forgiving, welcoming of how close Danny was to him, but it just never felt like you were enough. Not the perfect fit. And that wore you down more and more until it just all had to end. But here Sam was showing off his perfect match, apparently really trying to make you jealous when you thought all those feelings of jealousy had been buried and forgotten.

You left Sam on read, ignoring his attempt to antagonize you, but later, when you’d nearly forgotten about the pictures, Danny texted you:

Did Sam send pics of us together to you?

You sighed. You weren’t really in the mood to get more, but maybe Danny would spare you. 

Yes. Did you guys take those just to send to me and make me “jealous?”

Actually no. I didn’t even know he sent them until now. I’m really sorry if it upset you 

Another sigh. Danny was a sweetheart. Surely he really didn’t want to rile you up or hurt your feelings. 

It's okay. You guys are good together

Thanks. You and Sam were good together too

You left that alone. As much as you could appreciate the sentiment, you weren’t in the mood to travel further down memory lane. But later, when you were lying in bed, you found yourself opening up your texts to look at those pictures again, especially lingering on the snapshot of Sam and Danny kissing. Finally, with a huff you locked your phone and tossed it aside before you tossed yourself into a fitful sleep.

But the next day, the pictures commenced. The first one was sent in the middle of the night and was a perplexing awakening–a picture clearly taken from Sam’s POV. You’d recognize that torso anywhere and there it was in clear digital–Sam flat on his back, a string of bright pink bite marks down his stomach and Danny’s wild dark curls pressed against his belly. You couldn’t see his face, but you also knew that hair anywhere. You sat up in bed rubbing your eyes and once your brain made full sense of the image, you wanted to be mad. You were mad–you could feel the heat rising in your body, the tension growing in your mind, but you also felt a tingle of betrayal shudder through you all the same. 

No text accompanied the photo. It was bait and you weren’t going for it. If Sam wanted you to be jealous, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction; if he just wanted you to have the pictures for whatever demented reason, you’d accept. But when the pictures kept coming and got progressively more raunchy, you thought the picture of Sam kissing Danny’s neck, his hand shoved down Danny’s pants, had to be the last one. There was no way it would escalate. But it did–later that night Sam sent you a picture of Danny straight up sucking his dick.

That made you gasp and, without even thinking about it, press the call button.

“Sam!” you shouted when he answered. “What the fuck are you doing? Does Danny know you’re sending me all these?”

Sam laughed. Such a bastard. “He didn’t at first. But now he does. He’s been encouraging me.”

You held your face in your free hand, sighing. “Sam. What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve really worked hard to move past our breakup and I–”

“Y/N, I know. That’s not what this is.” Sam paused for a second and you sensed he wasn’t alone on the other end. “This is an invitation.”

You couldn’t lie to yourself–you’d thought about it. How could you not after receiving all those pictures? But still the words from Sam didn’t make sense in your mind. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean exactly what I said. We’re inviting you to join us.” When you didn’t respond, Sam continued: “Just for a night, you know? Test it out?”

The words were still bouncing around. Your heart sped up with curiosity. “Let me talk to Danny,” you ordered. “I’m sure he’s with you right now. Right?” Danny would make it make sense. 

Another laugh from Sam. “Yeah, he’s here. Hang on.” There was a vague shuffle and then Danny’s voice was in your ear.

“Danny, please explain this to me,” you demanded, growing even more flustered and impatient. “What’s Sam talking about?”

“Well, um, I think he kind of said it all.”

You let out an exasperated huff. “He did not say it all, Danny. Clearly I need you to spell it out for me.”

“We both like you and we want to have a threesome,” Danny explained and you could hear Sam laugh in the background. “That’s it. If you don’t want to, it’s totally cool. And I’ll tell him to stop sending the pictures.”

Maybe it was strange, but when you’d looked at all the photos, you’d never pictured yourself being part of the action. Sam and Danny came as a pair–clearly. Your relationship had ended because of that–and were truly, as far as you were concerned, meant for one another. To get between that seemed strange, not to mention held incredible risk to damage the friendship you were still clinging to with both of them. 

You thought about the pictures some more though and felt you landed on some middle ground, unorthodox as it was. But all of this was entirely unorthodox. “What if I watched?” you proposed.

“What? You want to?” Danny asked, the surprise in his voice ridiculous to you given what he and Sam had already proposed themselves. 

“Sure. Clearly, Sam’s into that.”

There was a slight pause, then Danny said, “Okay. Yeah, sure. We’re into that too.”

It was probably one of the worst decisions of your life. But when you hung up, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited about it.

-

You were surprised at how Sam and Danny didn’t seem to care at all that you were watching, sitting in the oversized, plush lounge chair that had been hauled from the living room to the bedroom for the big show. You were also surprised at how, as the action progressed and you were seemingly forgotten, sinking back into the walls like you were invisible, you cared less and less as well. Sam and Danny were completely enthralling to watch–Sam was lying half on top of Danny, kissing him like his best friend was made of pure magic, and Danny was cradling the back of Sam’s head like he was a precious piece of art. Both things were true in your mind–Danny was like a magical, mystical storm enveloping Sam, who was indeed a rare and beautiful work of art that needed to be treasured.

When Sam smiled into the next kiss, a lightning bolt of jealousy pierced your chest. They looked at one another like they were completely in love, probably because they were. Sam had never looked at you like that. But it made sense. You were just the last in a string of failed girlfriends before Sam finally realized who his true partner was. You could imagine that Danny had been silently waiting and beckoning Sam to come to him for good. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t deny that what you were privileged to witness was also painfully hot, even hotter when they both took their shirts off; Sam dipped his head down to begin kissing Danny’s neck and Danny’s hands roamed Sam’s shoulders and back, then up to toy with his hair. 

For the first time since they’d begun, Sam addressed you. “Isn’t he so hot?” he asked, glancing at you while he ran his fingers over Danny’s ribs. 

“Very hot,” you agreed; Danny blushed in response.

“Did you ever think about fucking him?” Sam continued. The question didn’t catch you off-guard, having expected to be a little scrutinized with all the build-up to this event. If nothing else, the conversation probably just made Sam even more turned on.

“Who hasn’t?” you replied. You had, not that you’d ever told Sam that. Not that Danny ever showed any interest. And not that Sam would have cared, you realized; on the contrary, you now knew he would have jumped at this opportunity much earlier. 

“I know, right?” Sam resumed pressing kisses to Danny’ neck, holding the side of his face; Danny nuzzled against his palm and that image made your heart swell. They adored each other so vividly and so overtly. 

“I’m surprised you’re okay with being watched, Danny,” you noted, feeling a little more apt to talking now that Sam had extended that olive branch. 

“I said I’d try it. For Sam,” Danny told you. Sam smirked against his skin and wiggled down to mouth against his chest. “I don’t mind, really. It’s just you.” 

“You like watching?” Sam inquired, peeking at you with his face still pressed against Danny’s chest, his cheek resting against his sternum.

“Yeah, it’s hot,” you said. You could feel your own body literally growing hotter by the second just watching, even more so when Sam finally brought one hand down to Danny’s crotch. Your breath hitched as Danny’s did too, and he arched up into Sam’s touch. 

“Just wait ‘til you see his dick,” Sam said, stroking Danny over his sweatpants. You could see the faint outline, impressively sized, not to your surprise. Sam brought himself to his knees and moved lower, bringing his fingers to the waistband of Danny’s pants. “It’s so big I can hardly take it.”

Your cheeks suddenly burned. “Jesus, Sam.”

Sam laughed. “What? It’s true!” 

“It is true,” Danny affirmed, putting both his hands on Sam’s head. “But you’re gonna take it tonight, right? Show Y/N how good you can be for me?”

You hadn’t, however, expected Danny to chime into the dirty talking. It seemed so out of character but it worked, and it had you rubbing your thighs together, starting to feel tortured. But you were going to try to keep up. “You let him fuck you, Sam?”

“Sure do. He’s fucking good at it too,” Sam said with a rough, low laugh. He pulled down Danny’s pants and that impressive dick was free, rock hard and looking heavy against Danny’s abdomen. You watched Danny close his eyes as Sam licked straight up his length, cradling his balls in one hand while the other was clenching tight around his hip. 

“Is Sam good at sucking dick?” you asked. Danny seemed to be enjoying it already, even with Sam just licking and jerking him off slowly.

Danny nodded, humming, and laced his fingers through Sam’s hair. “He’s so good at it. He knows just what I like. Why don’t you show her, Sammy?”

And Sam did, gripping the base of Danny’s cock to prop him up before he went down. Danny was big–the fact that Sam could take half in one go was impressive and you squeezed your thighs together harder, struggling more and more to figure out what to do with your own hands. Meanwhile, Sam knew what to do with his hands. He started to stroke Danny while he sucked and his other hand trailed up Danny’s body, palming at his chest before he slipped his fingers into Danny’s mouth. 

There was no music to curtail the sounds they were both making–Sam’s sloppy sucking and occasional gags, Danny’s muffled gasps and moans that turned to whimpers with Sam’s fingers in his mouth and his cock being worked over longer and harder. Maybe all of this should have been shocking. You never thought, not before all those pictures anyway, that Sam would go down on any man and you certainly never could have imagined you’d watch it happen, but the whole thing was far more arousing than shocking. It was like your brain couldn’t even acknowledge the surprise that should have been blatant, rather it was fixated on the pure pleasure Sam was giving to Danny and how it translated to you somehow, an invisible line connecting all three of you.

Forever, for sure. You’d have to take all of this to the grave.

Sam suddenly grunted and popped off, grinning at Danny with spit coating his chin. “Ouch, Daniel.” He turned to you. “He’s such a biter.”

You’d been too busy watching Sam going down on him to have noticed Danny chomping on his fingers. “I remember,” you said, voice just a tad wobbly which you hoped would go unnoticed. “From that picture. All those marks on your stomach.” You could still see faint pink remnants on Sam’s torso now.

“Mmm, yeah.” Sam jerked Danny off, a wet slick sound thanks to all the saliva he’d left behind, and kept his eyes on you while he asked, “Wanna watch him do it?”

You felt like you were about to burst despite no one touching you or touching yourself, but the idea of Danny doing that was too enticing to turn down. You also felt it was possible that such a long delay before your own ecstasy could make it all even more incredible. So you said yes and quickly Sam flopped onto his back, encouraging Danny to come to him with outstretched arms, but he had to wait a moment–Danny fumbled on the bed for a few seconds trying to get his pants all the way off and his struggle elicited a much-needed laugh from you and Sam.

“Stop laughing,” Danny protested with a final kick, sending the sweatpants to the floor. “Getting naked isn’t always like, a graceful thing.”

“You’re not as bad as Sam,” you assured him, and Sam shot you an insulted look. “He just tears everything off like an animal. No grace at all.”

“I like doing it for him,” Danny said. He kissed Sam on the mouth softly, deeply, and Sam’s arms circled his shoulders, bringing him even closer. You watched closely, glued to the chair, as Danny brushed Sam’s hair back and brought his mouth to his neck; you’d always loved kissing Sam’s neck, too. Would he make the same sorts of sounds when Danny did it? 

The soft sigh that Sam let out when Danny kissed along his throat was similar, yet still different. There was more desperation in that sound, especially when Danny carried on gently for another few moments before you saw him sink his teeth right in. Sam shuddered and clawed at Danny’s shoulders, and suddenly you were wondering what Danny’s mouth would feel like on you. 

“Yeah, Sam loves when I mark him up,” Danny purred, trailing his increasingly harsh and teeth-filled kisses down Sam’s torso. He stopped at Sam’s belly, his teeth pressing into the soft skin as he pulled down his shorts. Seeing Sam’s dick was nothing new for you, but when Danny abruptly grabbed Sam by the hips to toss him over, then lifted him onto his knees, that was an entirely new sight. 

Danny gripped Sam’s ass while he dove right in and took a bite into one cheek like he really was trying to eat him; Sam yelped and you gasped. It looked like it hurt–when Danny pulled back, there was already an angry red mark, but then Sam moaned and laughed a little.

“God, Sam. I didn’t know you were like this,” you remarked, perplexed and fascinated and so turned on that you had to sit right on top of your hands. “I’ve never seen you so–I don’t know. Submissive.”

“He’s a good boy for me,” Danny said, the words low and deep, and pet his hands up Sam’s sides. You could see that–Sam was perfectly pliant beneath Danny’s touch, like he was just waiting for whatever happened next, and so responsive to everything. Danny looked at you and his next question, though you’d been secretly waiting for it, nearly made you collapse out of the chair: “Wanna help him get ready?”

You balked for a moment, wide-eyed and so stiff from all the pent up excitement and curiosity. “Ready for–?”

Sam snapped his head to the side, peering at you sharply through his hair that had fallen into his face. “Ready to fuck me, obviously,” he snarked, but when Danny grabbed his hips hard and gave another bite to his ass, he quivered and his voice softened as he added, “Get over here, Y/N. We need you.”

That short sentence circled around in your mind, urging you to move but you felt like you couldn’t–the thought of getting up fully clothed to just wander over to what was happening on the bed seemed awkward and silly. Clearly your trepidation didn’t go unnoticed, because Danny was walking over to you, naked as the day he was born, and lifted you up. 

“Don’t be scared,” he said in your ear, pushing you onward while he stayed behind you, his erection unceremoniously pressing against your lower back. 

“I’m not scared,” you said, but you gasped again when Danny tugged at your pants and Sam was suddenly right in front of you yanking on the hem of your shirt. Helpless, you let them both strip you down to your bra and panties; Sam leaned back on his hands with a grin while you felt Danny move in even closer, his hands stroking your hips. 

“Is that okay?” Danny asked, his lips on your ear. 

“Yeah, sure,” was all you could say. You shivered when Sam reached one of his hands out to lightly press his fingers to the crotch of your panties. 

“It was really hot for you to watch,” Sam said, drawing a line down your thigh with one fingertip. “Danny was nervous about it. Performance anxiety, you know. But–” He leaned to the side to look behind you. “It looks like he’s doing just fine.”

You were feeling more relaxed–Sam was back to himself, at least momentarily, and Danny was keeping his touches gentle and tentative. “You guys look like you’re made for each other. It makes sense why we didn’t work out.”

Sam frowned a little. “I feel bad about that, Y/N. I didn’t even know how into Danny I was until, well, pretty recently.”

Danny gave a little snort. “Please. I think everyone but you could see it pretty clearly.”

Sam rolled his eyes before he sighed and looked back at you. “You should try kissing him,” he suggested, leaning back once more. “It’s totally serendipitous.”

You could imagine. You turned in Danny’s arms; he smiled at you so sweetly that you were wrapped up in his softness, not even realizing he was single handedly bringing you down to the bed to lie next to Sam. Then he was kissing you as tenderly as he’d smiled at you and you felt you understood what Sam must have been feeling while you’d been watching earlier–kissing Danny was like magic. 

You were feeling quite fulfilled just from making out and touching–Danny was so warm and so firm, his muscles taut beneath your fingers, his hair so soft–but then he was abruptly being pulled away from you. “Alright, back to business,” Sam commanded, yanking Danny away by his hair, to which Danny was grimacing and reaching up untangle Sam’s fingers. 

“Ha!” Danny exclaimed when Sam freed him. “You’re jealous.”

You’d never seen Sam jealous before, actually, but now that Danny was pointing it out, you could see it clearly–the darkness in his eyes beneath furrowed brows, the exaggerated slant of his cheekbones as he pouted, the flush on his cheeks. 

“You’re supposed to make it even during threesomes,” Sam said, looking from Danny to you then back again. Jealous or not, he was still hard, you noticed. “You have to divvy up the attention, Daniel and Y/N.”

“Fine,” Danny said shortly. “Then get on your knees again.” Instead of waiting even one second for Sam to do it himself, he grabbed his ankles and rolled him over again.

“Such a dom,” Sam said with a chuckle.

“God,” was all you could say, breathless at being involved now, not just witnessing. You needed to see more though and you were starting to understand your place in all this–you moved up to sit in front of Sam, lightly touching his face. “Hey, Sam–can I kiss you?”

He smirked at you, though you felt he had no right to when he was in such a vulnerable position, his ass quite literally in Danny’s face. “I thought you’d never ask,” Sam said, inching forward on his elbows, an image so ridiculous that you almost laughed. Instead, you brought your smile to his lips and kissed him for the first time in months–it should have felt ordinary but it didn’t. It felt brand new, strange and a little scary, made even scarier by the sudden popping sound that broke out from below.

You pulled away to identify the source, which was Danny squeezing lube onto his fingers. “Where’d you get that?” you asked, keeping your hands on Sam’s shoulders.

Danny chuckled, closing the cap of the bottle. “It was already on the bed.” With his dry hand he lifted a strip of condoms from the mattress and waved them around. “We came prepared.”

You grimaced; Sam and Danny both laughed. “Well, um–that’s good,” you said, but jeez. When had your ex-boyfriend and his best friend become such sex-crazed maniacs? It wasn’t the condoms or the lube–it was the fact that Sam was wiggling his hips back to Danny and Danny was squeezing one of his ass cheeks, anticipation evident on his face. 

“Are you good?” Sam asked, propping himself up on his knees to get directly in front of you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Yeah, uh, I’m very good,” you stammered, running a hand through your hair and nearly knocking Sam in the face in the process. “It’s just–a lot to process.”

Danny moved right behind Sam, holding him so you were all pressed together like an obscene panini. “Yeah, it is for us, too,” he said, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulders. “You’re the only one we’d wanna do this with.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sam said. “I’m keeping my options open.”

“You’re fucking rude, Sam,” you said, but all the distractions kept any real heat away from your voice. 

Sam laughed, that loud cackle that nearly made the walls vibrate. “I’m kidding, Y/N!” He grabbed your face and pulled you forward to plant a fast, harsh kiss to your mouth before he snapped back and said, looking over his shoulder at Danny, “Now let’s get this show on the road, big guy. Show her what you’re made of.” 

That certainly did set things in motion, with Danny moving swiftly to get Sam back down in front of you; Sam planted his face in your lap and grabbed your hips, hastily pulling your underwear down. You weren’t sure where to fix your eyes–at Danny kissing Sam’s spine and his arm moving vaguely below or Sam tossing your panties to the floor, then latching his teeth to your inner thigh.

You let out a flustered breath and unhooked your bra. “Since everyone else is doing it–”

Sam’s voice was faintly muffled with his face between your legs: “That’s the spirit.” Though it shouldn’t have, the swipe of his tongue up your center came as a surprise, but not as much of a surprise as the loud keen that came from him as Danny perked up behind him, looking at both of you. 

“Oh my god,” you uttered, trembling as you met Danny’s gaze. “Are you–”

“I’m getting him ready,” Danny answered as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. When you straightened up a bit, you got a better peek at what Danny’s hands were doing–one was gripping Sam’s hip and the other was thrusting idly. “I gotta open him up.” He draped himself over Sam’s back, his own upper body long enough for his own dark curls to mix with Sam’s sleek chestnut hair. “How do you want it, Sammy? Nice and easy or hard and fast?”

Sam gave an upwards nod at you. “Whatever she wants to see.”

Being given a clear say in this matter triggered a need for vengeance that you hadn’t even known existed. “Hard and fast,” you told Danny. He looked a little surprised, eyes widening slightly and lips parting; you tugged Sam’s hair a bit to make him look up at you again. “I bet that’s how you really like it, isn’t it?”

Of course Sam wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of feeling like revenge was ever possible. He laughed softly and said, “I like it however Danny likes it.”

Danny pulled back. “Which just happens to be hard and fast,” he said, and you caught a glimpse of him thrusting his hand forward again and Sam let out a choked little whimper, then a bitten-back groan as Danny gave a shockingly sharp, hard smack to his ass. 

You had nothing to say to that. You simply tried to process what the hell was happening all around you once more, which was a good thing; you couldn’t exactly speak when Sam began nipping at your thigh and sliding two fingers inside of you. You kept your hands in his hair and fought the urge to close your eyes–you wanted to see as much as you could of Danny working his own fingers in and out of Sam and the way your ex-boyfriend’s body moved so sinuously with every motion. Sam pressed his tongue to your clit again, licking with impressive intention given the position he was in, while his soft grunts got muffled against your heat. 

“How’s that feel?” Danny asked, and you weren’t sure if he was asking you or Sam or both of you.

“Good,” you said at the same time Sam said, “Amazing.” He looked up with suspicion. “Just ‘good?’ Alright, guess I have to work harder.” He brought his face back down, lapping at your clit wetly while his fingers worked deeper and harder through your own wetness. You felt a little embarrassed at how you were already dampening the sheet beneath you but you couldn’t help it–this was by far the most wild and the hottest sexual experience of your life. It made you a little mad that Sam being a kind of shitty boyfriend had to be the lead up to it. 

Danny hummed. “So, Sam–think you’re ready?”

Sam nodded between your thighs, then looked up, his lips and chin shiny with your slick and his spit. “I’ve got an idea,” he began, lifting himself up and using your legs for leverage. “Get under me. That way, it’ll be like getting fucked by both of us.” He laughed a little, looking very satisfied with his own suggestion. “Except I'll still be getting fucked the way I want.” 

“Always about you,” you muttered, a futile sort of defense mechanism against this very bewildering idea. But Sam only pulled you down as much as he could, until you were halfway down the bed and halfway beneath him.

Danny, you could tell based on the crinkling sound, was getting a condom on; you watched him slip one to Sam, who wasted no time in tearing it open. His abdomen flexed as he stayed upright on his knees and rolled the condom over his own cock; you reached out to touch him, his body still so familiar. The onset of an ache, of wanting Sam so badly, began to override the ache for punishing him. Maybe all of this was an apology in and of itself. 

“I gotta get in you before he gets me,” Sam said. His voice was calm but his cheeks were vivid scarlet and sweat beaded on his hairline. You spread your legs and got your arms around his waist, both bringing him down to you and giving yourself some much-needed stability, and Sam slid into you like it was any other ordinary time, except for Danny’s hands looping around his chest and bringing his chin back to Sam’s shoulder. 

The slide was easy–probably far easier than Sam’s experience would be, you thought–and Danny watched while he sank his teeth into Sam’s skin, the swirling forest of his irises fixed on yours in a way that would have made you feel self-conscious if it weren’t for Sam overtaking you being so distracting. 

“God, you feel good,” Sam said quietly, giving a shallow thrust. That was enough to make you moan softly in response, gripping his middle more tightly. Your arms were brushing against Danny’s abdomen; Danny brought one hand to your forearm as if encouraging you both to keep going, so Sam did with a few more gentle shoves of his hips. As you were just getting used to the sensation of three bodies of increasing heat coming together, Sam’s cock sliding through your wetness and his hands squeezing your breasts, Danny shifted and Sam’s serene face turned to an open-mouthed, tense visage.

“That’s it, Sammy,” Danny encouraged. There was so much love in his voice that it made you feel loved too, though it was obvious in that moment he was wholly focused on Sam. Rightfully so. Sam responded viscerally not only with his facial expressions that only you could see, but with his voice, cursing softly and moaning low, and the full-body shudder that ran through him as Danny pushed forward. 

You could imagine it being a bit of a challenge to take Danny yourself; the fact that Sam could do it was actually a little amazing. “God, Sam,” you said, stroking his hair. The soft reverence emanating from Danny made you feel the same–this was an experience to be treasured no matter how it went. “This is so hot. You guys look really hot together.” 

“He feels so good. Literally so hot,” Danny said. He leaned over Sam again, making Sam push down on you, and subsequently into you, harder. Danny was fully in charge now, something you were entirely unopposed to–you watched, fascinated, as he began to move, his hands wandering over Sam’s chest and hips while he started to thrust. He built up a rhythm swiftly and easily, soon enough making Sam let out moans that became choked little sobbing sounds as Danny started to live up to expectations–he was fucking Sam hard and fast and you were on the receiving end of the last gyrations and echoes of his movements. 

You grabbed the back of Sam’s head, pulling him in to kiss. There was just barely enough room to snake your arm between the two of your bodies; your first two fingers made a V around the base of Sam’s cock, stroking him lightly before you brought them to circle your clit. Sam’s desperate moans were drowned out by your incessant kissing–you wanted to consume him like Danny did, or as close to it as possible.

Between pants and huffs of effort, Danny’s voice snaked through your ears: “Do you like it, Sammy?” he asked and you opened your ears, giving Sam some necessary air and giving yourself quite the view as you strained to the side. Danny’s thighs were flexing with each thrust and his hands had a stronghold around Sam’s hips; Sam was all wobbly limbs and flushed skin, his hands clamped on your shoulders. 

“Yeah,” was all Sam said. It was probably all he could say while Danny pounded into him. 

Danny’s eyebrows rose. “What was that?” You bit your lip as Sam’s face tensed, his eyes shut tight, and waited for Sam to respond, but he didn’t. He only moaned a little, quiet and subdued, then the tension was slashed to pieces by another hard smack against his ass. “Sam?” 

“Fuck!” Sam was explosive now with that one word, fucking himself back onto Danny and, subsequently, harder into you as he shifted back and forth. Words escaped you entirely as you just tried to ride through the dense waves, but Danny apparently had more.

“Tell Y/N how much you like this,” Danny demanded, yanking Sam’s head back by a fistful of hair, Sam squirming helplessly all the way. 

“Oh my god, I like it,” Sam let out breathlessly, trying to look back at Danny. With the additional space, you touched yourself again more freely. Your chest and stomach felt so tight, this huge buildup growing even more–the fear surrounding this was gone. The anticipation had been alleviated and the payoff was more than you’d ever imagined, because the image of Danny holding Sam’s hip while he pulled his hair, his lips roaming Sam’s neck, and Sam desperately trying to please both of you was the most incredible thing you’d ever seen. 

It was Danny's name that escaped your lips as you came, eyes shutting to dizzying blackness, shuddering violently beneath Sam and squeezing his cock tight inside you. Even in the throes of your own little explosion, you realized what you’d said and managed to say Sam’s name next, and reached for him with one hand. 

“Oh fuck, I like that too,” Sam said against your cheek, teeth then dragging down to your neck. “You coming around me while Danny fucks me. So fucking hot.” 

“Fuck, you guys–” you started to say, still out of breath, and tangled your fingers in Sam’s hair, trying to keep him close. “This is–wow. Are you close?”

“Sam’s ready to blow,” Danny answered, not showing any sign of slowing down. “He’s getting even tighter and–” He peeked down, then Sam gasped. “Yup, his balls are full. You gonna come for us, Sam?”

“Danny, where’d you learn how to dirty talk like this?” you questioned, genuinely flabbergasted by how easily the more easygoing, friendly and sometimes exceptionally shy and boyish side could give way to a man who was so in charge, so lustful, so commanding.

“He’s a secret slut,” Sam quipped, which got him another slap on the ass. He laughed a little, then you were caught in the dark again when he began to kiss you. Based on just that, it did seem like Sam was close–the kisses were getting sloppier, the stifled moans sharper, his hands squeezing your body harder. And when he did come, it wasn’t exactly what you were used to because Sam also moaned Danny’s name, both syllables whispered on your lips.

“That’s good, baby,” Danny cooed. Your vision was a bit fuzzy as you tried to look right at him, but you could see quite clearly how tenderly those big hands moved down Sam’s trembling back. The gentleness was short-lived–Danny went back into thrusting harshly, their muscles clashing against one another’s, Danny’s fingers raking down Sam’s sides. You’d never seen Danny come. Never thought you ever would. You thought that would be forever reserved for Sam now that they’d gotten together. So, enthralled once more, you stayed transfixed on him as he closed his eyes and lurched forward, his upper body hanging over Sam, his curls shielding parts of his face. But you could see the twitch of a brow and the parting of his lips, then the white teeth biting down, and then Danny let himself go entirely. He flopped down on top of Sam, who collapsed on top of you.

“Okay, jeez, you guys are heavy,” you noted after getting the wind knocked out of you. Sam stayed motionless, but Danny had the decency to get up. You turned your head to the side to watch him move off the bed, carefully roll the condom off himself and grab his pants from the floor. You considered asking him to stay naked because, well, why not? But then Sam groaned loudly, interrupting your thoughts.

“I’m gonna be so fucking sore tomorrow,” he declared, finally rolling off you, spreading out on his back; he stretched and you heard a crack come from somewhere. “Thanks, Daniel.”

Danny stepped over to pat Sam’s thigh. “You’re welcome.” He looked over at you. “How are you feeling?”

“I–” you paused, trying to find the right words, but first you needed to find your clothes again. Sam might have been comfortable living nude as often as he could, but you needed some sense of familiar security around you after all that. As you got redressed, you continued: “I felt many things during all that, honestly. It was kinda fun to see Sam getting wrecked.” Danny beamed at that, which almost made you laugh, which made Sam actually laugh. “I think you guys really are great together and I’m happy for you. But breaking up still really hurt.”

Danny gave a sympathetic frown then, his eyes becoming softer; Sam crawled over to your seat at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. I really am,” he said, sounding shockingly genuine. “I should’ve been a better boyfriend while I was still your boyfriend.”

“It’s okay, Sam, honestly,” you assured him, patting the arm that had wrapped around you. “It’s over and, really, it was fine. You were just in love with someone else. Better being in love with Danny than some random stranger or something.”

“Maybe if he’d told me sooner, we wouldn’t have ended up in that whole mess.”

Danny scoffed, planting his hands on his hips as he stood in front of both of you. “I sent you like, a million signals, Sam. You were pretty much the only person who didn't realize sooner.”

“It’s true,” you chimed in. “Looking back, Danny never really tried to hide anything.”

Sam sighed, then hopped off the bed and plastered himself against Danny’s side. “Okay, well, we didn’t hide anything tonight, did we?” He reached down and grabbed Danny’s crotch while kissing his cheek.

Danny hissed and slapped Sam’s hand away. “Too much too soon.”

“Never too much,” Sam replied, sneaking in another kiss, holding Danny close. “Never too soon.”

“Ugh.” You got to your feet, too. “Too much sappy romance for me.”

Sam cackled and grabbed your hand. “No, don’t leave. The night can’t end like this.”

“Yeah, we all at least need a few shots or a bowl or something,” Danny agreed with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “And a shower. Definitely a shower.”

“I get to go first,” Sam announced, breaking free and jetting out of the room, leaving you with a final image of his reddened ass, all thanks to Danny. 

So then it was just you and Danny standing in the middle of the bedroom where so many unexpected, wild and beautiful things had happened. You looked at the chair that you’d been sitting in, so unassuming, then to the disheveled bed, and Danny put one arm around your shoulders.

“Thanks for doing this, Y/N,” he said. “Sam still talks about you all the time. He really cares about you. I think he respects you a lot, too.”

“I’ll always care about him,” you told Danny. His touch was as comforting as your clothes, weirdly enough. You were starting to understand more and more why Sam was so smitten with him. “I care about you too, Danny.”

From the hallway, Sam shouted, “Do you care enough about me to let my boyfriend get in the shower with me?” 

Danny rolled his eyes while you laughed. “Okay, big guy,” you said, steering him out of the room. “You get in there while I get the drinks.”

---

Tagging no one (RIP my old fandom). If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, you can go HERE or DM me!

#sam kiszka #danny wagner #danny gvf #sam gvf #greta van fleet #gvf #gvf smut #sam kiszka x reader #gvf fic #gvf fan fiction #sam fic #josh kiszka #jake kiszka

[czrpenters]

sam carpenter nsfw alphabet

pairings: sam carpenter x fem!reader.

masterlist | request rules.

a - aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Sam is the type of girl who will literally do anything for you. Anything. If you wanted a glass of water, she would get up to fetch you some. If you felt hot, she would turn on the AC immediately. Sometimes she would literally exaggerate so much, to the point where you had to make her stay with you instead of going to buy you some water bottles after you've fucked, because you guys' were running out of them.

"But you said you were thirsty, baby..." She would whine like a baby when she couldn't take care of you.

b - bodypart (their favorite part of their partners body)

Sam loves everything about you, so it is pretty hard for her to think about picking a favorite spot on your body. But, if she had to choose, she would say your eyes. She can read you pretty well by then, especially read your eyes; she can tell if you are sad, angry, horny, anxious. Just by looking at them.

c - cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She loves your taste more than anything. It's what drives her the most when you're fucking; she mostly wants to make you cum so she can taste it. It's bitter, a little bit sour even, and she would taste you everyday if she could.

d - dirty secret

Sam wil never, ever tell you this, but she would literally die if one day you called her Mommy. It's something that she would only tell you if you were the one that brought it up, otherwise she will carry that secret to the grave with her.

e - experience (how much do they have?)

She definetly has some experience, more than you. Boys, girls, you name it. And your lack of it never was an issue to her; in fact, she loved teaching you everything she knew about sex.

f - favorite position

Every position where she gets to see your face are her favorites. Although, when she's feeling a little bit angrier at the moment, she'll definetly want something where she could slap your ass, or your face. All fours is a must, as well.

g - goofy (how are they in the moment? are they more serious or humorous?)

She takes it very seriously, but not in a bad way. She just gets too focused in making you feel good, and you enjoy that about her. Even in times where she feels rougher, she's always serious.

h - hair (how well groomed they are, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Sam prefers to keep it all trimmed, most of the times she just wax everything off for convenience, as well.

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Really depends on her mood. And depends on you, of course. If you sit on her lap, kiss her slowly and ask nicely, she'll have the most romantic night with you. Candles, music, you name it. Everything that you love, she'll do. You just have to ask. She absolutely needs to know how you're feeling the entire time when you're having these romantic nights. "Is this good?", "Am I hurting you, baby?", "I'm gonna put another one in, okay?". You felt like a princess every damn time.

j - jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Oh, she does it more than she can admit it. I mean, you're a busy girl, she's a busy girl, you both don't always have time to be intimate and that's fine to her. But sometimes it gets harder than she expected, and she literally has to lock herself in the tiny bathroom of the diner she worked at, just to get some relief.

k - kinks (one or more of their kinks)

She likes to play it rough. Bondages, wax play, strap-ons. And slapping. That is her weak spot. Anywhere she can slap you, she will. In your ass, your thigh, your face, especially your pussy. She likes causing you pain, but still worries about you all the time. You both had a safe word that, thankfully, was never used, but still; Sam knew that she could be a little too much when she was horny, and she would hate hurting you in a way that you didn't liked it.

l - location (favorite places to do it)

Sam isn't the number one fan of having sex in public places. She liked making you scream, she enjoyed the privacy. She would only consider if you really, really wanted to; otherwise, no.

m - motivation (what turns them on)

Unironically, you. Anything you do. If you wore a shorter skirt, she was down. If you tied your hair, she got wet. It wasn't hard to get her in the mood, you just pretty much had to exist. But something that really, really gets her going, is when you ask for it. If you got home from work, wanting for Sam to fuck the stress out of you, she will immediately do so. And she will do it like she has a fucking PhD in sex. Or in the middle of sex, when she teases you a little bit just to hear you say "Please". Being in control makes her crazy.

n - no (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Honestly, Sam is down to try almost anything, except if it was anything that you didn't want to do. Even if it was something that she personally wanted to try. She would ask you once, and if you said no, she would never bring it up again.

o - oral (preference in giving or recieving, skills, etc.)

I'm not gonna lie, Sam is pretty talented with her mouth, but there was something about having you down on her that really makes her go crazy. She loves how good you're with her, how you know exactly the right spots. And it's funny because she was the one who thought you all of that, she felt like a proud teacher most of the times. She praised you everytime, saying stuff like "You're such a good girl, baby...", "You're a fast learner, huh?".

p - pace (fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

Like I've said, it really depends. If she's feeling romantic, slow. If she's feeling angry, rough. And sometimes she would do both at the same time, surprisingly.

q - quickie (their opinion on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

She never really enjoyed quickies, to be honest. It was a habit that came with you guys' relationship. Specifically, it came when you both were alone in the house, horsing around, when you said jokingly (enphasis on the joke part) that she couldn't make you cum before Tara got home (which had just texted you saying she was 5 minutes away from the apartment). Like the competitive girl that she is, she took it as a challenge. And spoiler alert: she did make you cum (in 3 minutes).

r - risk (are they okay with experimenting, do they take risks, etc)

Sam is down to try anything, you just needed to ask her. She's just so whipped.

s - stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long they usually last)

For real, she can go for hours. Sometimes she just needs some 5 minute breaks in between rounds, but she can go as long as you want her to. She's there to please you, after all.

t - toys (do they own any? do they use them?)

You guys call it "The Collection". The amount of toys that you guys bought over the years was embarrassingly high. Strap-ons, vibrators, ropes and chains, you name it. The last purchase she made was a bullet vibrator type of thing with a remote controller. She was having way too much fun with that.

u - unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

She only teases you just to hear you plead, because in the back of her mind, she hates to not give you what you want. She loves spoiling you with everything, but she also loved it when you asked for stuff.

v - volume (how loud they are, what kind of noises do they make, etc)

She isn't too loud, she believes. Sometimes, when you guys are alone, she allows herself to be a little bit over the edge, but not always. She prefers to moan for you, and only you. But when it was her turn, she just wanted to make you scream her name. And also, Sam had the filhtiest mouth you'd ever seen, honestly. She would say the nastiest things while you were fucking and that honestly got you more turned on than ever.

w - wild card (random headcanon)

Sam's personal goal, everytime, was to make you cry. She loved making you feel so good, but so good, that it made tears roll down your face.

x - x-ray (what's going on under their clothing)

Sam loves to wear matching underwear, and loves when you do the same.

y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not that high, but also definetly not low. She was a little bit over the middle.

z - ZZZ.. (do they fall asleep afterwards?)

Almost never. She loves watching you sleep. Cuddling you, kissing all over your face, making sure that she didn't stepped over the line with your body. She would only sleep if she knew for sure you were alright.

⠀

#sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera x reader #scream #scream vi #melissa barrera #sam carpenter #sam carpenter smut #melissa barrera smut #nsfwalphabet

[phoenixyfriend]

[squints at the MCU] Tony Stark has displayed more ability to weather interrogation and torture than Steve Rogers.

This is "(displayed more)(ability)," not "(displayed)(more ability)," to be clear.

(I know fiction’s depiction of torture is famously propagandafied, but in this case, it’s not about torture for information so much as physical traumas shown on screen.)

(Anyway, have a rant I did on discord the other day.)

It's not really so much about "resisted the urge to hand over information" as "survived a truly harrowing experience and still came out of it trying to do good."

Tony's very first movie involves getting repeatedly drowned while in constant pain from bomb injuries as a civilian contractor, and I… don't think I can remember anything even a little similar with Steve

I don't think he's ever been captured for long before breaking out? All his injuries are in active battle, not torture.

Like... Steve went through something horrible with the ice and losing Bucky, nobody can argue that. But I think it's very telling, sometimes, that movie Steve, especially 2012 movie Steve, is completely unaware of the absolute nightmare that Tony experienced in his solo movies.

I have so many feelings about Tony Stark being the epitome of "guy who was raised and manipulated into being a bad person by someone he trusted, and (after a horrible experience) attempts to be a better person, constantly and consistently, even if he sometimes fucks up in the execution."

And the way that some fics elide his experiences in cleaning up other people's messes (first Obadiah's, then Howard's) and how that doubtlessly compounded his many neuroses from fixing messes that he did actually create himself is just

I have a lot of feelings

And am also feeling a little bitter and salty about how Tony Stark's MCU incarnation reportedly took some inspo from Elon Musk... and a little petty and satisfied about just how drastically we've all be shown that Musk can never live up to the idea of 'billionaire with inherited wealth who actually, without hesitation, risks his own life to save millions' that he tried to use PR to achieve in the media with 'my electric cars are gonna save the world' stunts about things he didn't actually have a hand in inventing

I'm just reading some fics I really enjoyed when I was still in the YA fandom, and there was a reference to a line Steve said in the movies and I started thinking (again) about how frequently fans take lines from Steve or Sam about Tony as gospel, because they haven't seen Tony's movies, and the lines from the star spangled boys are contextually meant to show that they don't know jackshit about Tony or his life, because they are directly contradicted by multiple prior films.

Also like... how often Steve's traumas get explored (in fic) in a way that Tony's just... don't? At most, his issues about Howard get explored, but that's it.

There's this moment in CACW that people take as Accurate and it infuriates me.

Tony Stark: [Back in the cell.] Just look. Because that is the fellow who was supposed to interrogate Barnes. [He shows a holographic image of Doctor Broussard.] Clearly, I made a mistake. Sam, I was wrong. Sam Wilson: That's a first.

Which, like... it's a bad movie. Obviously. But also

That line is immediately followed by Tony revealing that he's here to help the others and is sabotaging the security to make sure Ross can't take advantage, and yet fanfic still uses Sam's quote to promote anti-Tony agendas!

And 'Tony admits he fucked up' is. Like. Listen to me

Tony's first solo movie is fixing Obadiah's machinations. *

His second solo movie is fixing his Dad's fuckup.

His first team movie is fixing Thor's mistakes.

His third solo movie is fixing something that is only tangentially his fault.

It's not until AoU that the fuck-up is really his and his alone (well, not counting Bruce), and even then, even then, a massive portion of the blame is narratively laid at Wanda's feet!

And only then do we get this man, who has spent five movies seeing what happens when people don't take responsibility for their actions, or have anyone riding them to be ethical, who has criticized himself for neither having that oversight nor providing that oversight for people who snuck shit under his nose, that is when we get Tony weighing in on the side of "most countries on the planet are agreeing with this and it's for a reason, please work with me here, maybe we can get some of it rolled back to be less authoritarian and more reasonable."

* and removing himself from the military industrial complex he was raised and groomed to be in, but that's a system and not an individual act or a set 'villain'

Or as @firebirdeternal put it:

I would say that his first solo movie does have a large element of fixing his own mistakes too, it's just that his "mistake" was Trusting the Wrong Person and not taking personal responsibility for how his actions are affecting the world. (Which, he immediately does upon coming back from being captured? "We're going to immediately stop making weapons, because it's making the world worse" and then when Obadiah cuts him out of the company he goes "Oh. Okay no that didn't work, have to personally fix all this then.") and yeah it's just Tony have plenty of reasons to be on the side of "Someone needs to have oversight over this"

IM1 is such a good exploration of someone in privilege saying "this stops now" in a situation where they do have control because they have been confronted with their mistakes in a way that's unavoidable

It's also like, a great example of the fantasy of the Super Hero. Because Tony Stark, the businessman, even with all his wealth and knowledge, isn't able to stop the systemic harm being caused by His Own Company. One person isn't able to do that, even with the best of intentions. It isn't until he becomes something else, something more, a Super Hero, that he's able to make any kind of meaningful change on his own. Like IM1 is just a phenomenal movie. It understood it's subject material so incredibly well.

And people skip it and then take Steve and Sam at their word about Tony's strength of character and moral convictions and I scream.

THIS MAN FLEW A NUKE INTO A WORMHOLE WITH THE FULL EXPECTATION THAT HE WAS GOING TO DIE

Yeah, like, that Jump on the Grenade mentality is something that he and Steve actually literally share.

They both had 'jump on the explosive to save people' moments in their introductory movies.

I find so much more strength and inspiration in stories like Thor and Tony, where they are inherently fuck-ups and were shitty people and they are trying so damn hard to be better, which is more Tony than Thor really, but both of them and their first movies are just. I find that more inspiring than Steve or T'Challa or any other hero who was already a good person and just Became Great.

Tell me about the person who has to struggle to find that moral choice. Tell me about Natasha dragging herself from her oceans of blood and Tony fighting the government over whether they have the rights to use weapons he's created and about Thor having to reckon with his family's power being born of imperialistic ravaging of other cultures.

I want to hear about the people for whom being good is hard and a choice they don't have to make, but then they make it anyway.

Also I stand by "I am Iron Man. [infinity snap]" being the most amazing bookend the MCU could have done and probably the best part of the Endgame.

#Tony Stark #character analysis #phoenix talks #MCU #Iron Man Movies #Iron Man #Avengers #AoU #CACW #AEG #torture mention

[kaleldobrev]

To the Rescue (3) — Take Me Back Series

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After making a deal to bring you back, Sam doesn't see you until years later when your paths cross during a case

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hi, I just joined Tumblr and came across your blog, it's wonderful! I'd like to make a request, something between Sam and reader. The reader dies and Sam makes a pact to bring her back, but she comes back without remembering him and the hunting life. He thinks it's best to stay away from her. Years later they meet and she falls in love with him all over again, and when they kiss she regains her memory. Do you like it?

Chapter Word Count: 2.7k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (8x), Minor Character Death

Authors Note: When I originally wrote this it was 1.2k. With editing it turned into 2.7k | One more part after this folks! Sorry for the cliffhanger in advance | Flashbacks are in italics | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Pulling up to your house, Sam felt as though his stomach was in knots. It wasn’t like it was the first time he had seen your house, but this time it was different. It wasn’t just a normal driveway he was used to doing to make sure that you were safe every once in a while.

“You okay?” Dean asked, snapping Sam out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” Sam lied.

“Alright,” Dean began, opening up his glove compartment and taking out his gun. “Let’s go boy wonder,” he grinned.

Walking up to your front door, the biggest sense of dread starting washing over him as he started to think that maybe something was wrong. “You know, I don’t think she’s home. She usually parks her car in the driveway.”

“Maybe she actually parks inside her garage?” Dean suggested.

Sam looked at him, full well knowing that you wouldn’t be able to park inside your garage — it had too much stuff in it to park your car. It was more of a storage unit than anything. “Trust me on this one.”

“Wow, you really do stalk her uh?” Dean grinned.

“Not stalk, just concerned,” Sam corrected.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Dean said, patting his brother on the shoulder. Y/N would help me sleep better at night, Sam thought.

Taking a small deep breath, Sam knocked on your door, hoping that you somehow broke your pattern of parking in the driveway. It had been a couple of weeks since he’s done a drive by, so maybe you did have enough room in your garage now; but knowing you, you hadn’t cleaned it out.

“She’s not here,” Sam said quickly, and he turned on his heels about to leave your front porch. But Dean stopped him, grabbing onto the back of his jacket to bring him back. “What?”

“You don’t wanna check if she’s inside the house?” Dean asked. “What if she’s —”

“She’s not here Dean. Trust me,” Sam said, his voice a little stern. “The more time we’re here, the less time we actually have to go and find her. Now let’s go and check the shelter. I’ll try and call her on the way there.”

Dean went to open up his mouth to protest, but he knew that his brother was right. “Alright,” he agreed. As much as he wanted to check if you were inside the house, Dean trusted Sam when it came to his gut feeling; especially since this was concerning you.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been tied to this chair, but it felt like hours at this point. Mel or whatever her name actually was just talking your ear off; and it wasn’t even remotely about the deal, but just random little stories about her time here on Earth. If you weren’t currently tied to a chair, there was a part of you that would have actually found her stories to be quite interesting. “I don’t know, I love being a crossroads demon but at the same time, I feel like I could really bring some value to the team if Crowley trusted me more. What do you think?” Mel asked.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” you admitted. “I mean, I’d love to commend you on your work ethic but uh, I’m a little bitter right now,” you said.

Mel laughed. “Fair enough,” she grinned. “But, if you had to give me like a recommendation, would you say I had a good work ethic? I mean, I was your right hand for almost four years here.”

“Again, don’t really wanna commend you when you currently have me tied to a chair in my own shelter,” you stated, your voice radiating annoyance.

“You know, these past four years have honestly so eye opening,” Mel begin. “I can really see why Sammy wanted to marry you.”

“I’m sorry?” You questioned.

Mel went to open her mouth to answer your question, but there were two doors slamming in the distance. And her smile turned into a slightly mischievous one. “Looks like lover boy and big bro are here to rescue you!” She exclaimed and looked at her watch briefly. “About damn time too. I was starting to get bored.”

Mel got up from her seat, and removed a piece of fabric from her pocket as she walked toward you. “Just gonna place this in your mouth so you can’t warn my favorite boys, okay?” She giggled, before putting the fabric in your mouth, almost gagging you.

As the pair walked into the gym, it was mostly pitch black except for the small amount of moonlight that was currently streaming in from the windows. "Y/N?" Sam called out.

Muffled screaming could be heard, and that's when they noticed you sitting in the middle of the auditorium tied to a chair and with some kind of gag in your mouth. "Just like old times," Dean said, pulling out his gun.

"Except we're saving her, not the other way around," Sam stated, he too pulling out his gun.

"Whatever," Dean mumbled. "Just get Y/N out of here."

"And where are you going to go?" Sam asked, slightly confused as he raised a brow.

"Gonna go see if I can find that Mel bitch," Dean said, slightly waving his gun and grinning.

"No need to find me! I'm right here boys!" Mel called out, her voice singsong like; the large auditorium lights turning on in a matter of seconds. "And there's really no need to have those silly little guns out, so you might as well put them away," she said, appearing behind you now. "I just wanna talk. You know, have a little catch up. It's been such a long four years, and I've been so interested in what my Winchester boys have been up to. Especially Sammy here."

"Nothing really for us to talk about. Considering you've killed five teenagers for really no good reason," Sam said.

“But it was for a good reason,” Mel stated. Both boys looked at her with a slightly confused expression on both their faces. “I needed a way to get you two here. You wouldn’t have came any other way. Well, that’s not entirely true now is it Sammy?”

Sam looked at you, and he could see your expression changing. You were no longer relatively calm, but more confused than anything else. “Either you tell her or I will,” Mel stated, her voice no longer sing song like. “Tell her what you’ve been up to.”

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, and Sam didn’t want to tell you what Mel was insinuating. “5…4….3….” Mel began counting.

“Alright, alright!” Sam yelled out in frustration. “I’ve been watching her for the past four years to make sure she was okay.” He sighed. “Happy?”

“Now, let’s see what Y/N thinks about that mmm?” Mel asked, her hands on either side of your shoulders. “Wanna talk?” She asked you, and you eyed her. If looks could kill, Mel would have been dead.

“Fuck you,” you said, muffled.

“Oh my!” Mel laughed. “The mouth on her! No wonder you were so heartbroken Sammy,” she winked.

As Mel, Sam and Dean were talking, you were carefully trying to untie yourself from the chair, making sure that none of them had seen you doing it; as you were pretty sure that if Mel had caught you, she had the ability to kill you in an instant. Then again, you weren’t quite sure how strong demons were.

“Now, I’d really like to hear what Y/N think —” before Mel could continue her sentence, you broke free from the rope that she had tied your hands with, and managed to tackle Mel to the ground.

“A little help here would be nice boys!” You yelled out, trying your best to keep Mel to the ground; but her demon strength was starting to show, as she knocked you to the ground.

Before she could do anything to you, Dean had his arms around her, holding her back as Sam held out his hand in order to help you up. “Thanks,” you said, taking his hand — a simple movement, but felt so natural.

Mel bucked her head back, the back of her head hutting Dean in the nose; the movement caused him to let her go and he stumbled back. “Fuck,” Dean said; some blood running down from his nose.

“You little bitch,” Mel said through gritted teeth. She went to lunge at you, but was stopped when Sam had shot her. She laughed. “You know bullets can’t kill me,” she smirked.

“No, but they can distract you,” Dean said from behind her. She turned around, and within an instant, Dean plunged the Demon Knife into her.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, the three of you walking out of the shelter.

“Yeah I’m fine just…confused,” you confessed.

“I’m sure. I’m sorry Mel wasn’t who you thought she was,” Sam said.

“That’s not entirely it,” you began, the two men raised a brow. “Mel…Mel said that I knew you guys,” you looked at Sam now. “She said you wanted to marry me.” Sam and Dean exchanged looks, neither one of them really knew what to say

“What else did she tell you?” Sam asked, not denying your claim; as he was in fact planning on asking you to marry him as soon as the three of you had gotten back from the hunt. It was something that he spent months planning.

“She said that you made a deal in order to bring me back to life. And part of that deal was basically having me forget you and hunting,” you said, your voice having no hesitancy to it. “I know how ridiculous it sounds but…I believe her.”

“Dean, can you give us a second?” Sam asked, looking over at his brother. Dean and Sam exchanged looks, and Dean looked at you only briefly before nodding.

“Yeah I’ll uh…I’ll be in Baby,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he started making his way toward his impala.

“Is what she said the truth?” You asked. “And don’t give me a it’s complicated answer. It’s a simple yes or no.” Sam couldn’t help but let out a half chuckle, as this was a like you had said to him far too many times.

“Yes. It’s the truth,” he admitted. “Four years ago, the three of us were on a vampire hunt in Malibu. You and me agreed to go take out the nest because it was only supposed to be three vamps. But…it turned out to be six instead, too many for just the two of us to handle. That’s when you…”

“Died,” you said, finishing his sentence. “How did I…die?”

“One of the vamps…ripped your throat out…” he mumbled, his voice trailing. “It was my fault I…”

“Hey, hey,” you said, taking his hand in yours. “I may not remember, but it wasn’t your fault okay? I may not remember you, but, knowing you literally barely a few hours, I know you aren’t that type of person. You just…I get a good vibe from you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he stated. “I’ve done a lot of…fucked up things. Things that…”

“Whatever fucked up things you’ve done, I’m sure it was for a good reason Sam,” you reassured him. “You aren’t someone that’s just going to get someone killed.”

Sam just looked at your hand in his; enjoying the feeling. It’s been so long since he had held your hand. “After, why didn’t you try and ask me out?” You asked.

Sam chuckled. “Thought you’d be better off without me and plus, kinda thought something like this was going to happen.”

“Ask her out already please! I miss her baking!” The two of you heard Dean call out. You and Sam turned, and saw Dean with the drivers side window rolled down; Zeppelin playing loud enough for him to have probably been able to hear the entirety of the conversation.

Sam and you chuckled a little, and you looked at each other similar to that of two people in love with each other. “You wouldn’t want to go out sometime again would you?” You asked, softly smiling.

“I don’t know I…” Sam wanted to say yes; he wanted you back in his life, wanted so much to be in your life again. But he didn’t want to risk anything bad happening to you again. “I’m sorry.”

Disappointment washed over you as you looked at Sam. You had wanted to be with him, even though you barely knew him. But according to Mel, at some point, he had wanted to marry you. You had hoped that maybe with her gone, then you two could get to know each other again and have a bond like you apparently did years ago. You had felt something for him; some kind of connection, a kind of familiarity, even before you knew who he was. But, you understood where he was coming from. “Can I at least give you a thank you kiss?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, almost afraid to say yes.

Sam leaned down, and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. He stared into your eyes, mentally cursing himself for saying no, but he knew that saying no was for the best. You were safer, and you were free. “I’ll always love you,” he told you. “Even if you don’t remember loving me.”

Your lips and his were centimeters apart now, and you didn’t want this moment to end between the two of you. Because you knew, that the second the kiss was over, you’d probably never see him again.

“Take care of yourself,” you said, before the two of you pressed your lips against each other.

The kiss felt natural, a little needy, but gentle. It wasn’t a kiss you would give to someone you would see again, it was a kiss that you gave someone that you would never see again. It was a goodbye.

"Sam, I have a bad feeling about this. Maybe we should wait for Dean to come and help us," you said; as the two of you started walking up to an abandoned log cabin in the middle of the woods; something that you didn't even know Malibu had.

"There's only supposed to be three vamps, I think we'll be fine," Sam reassured you. "We've taken out more than three vamps just the two of us before."

"Yeah but...I don't know, it just feels different this time, I can't explain it," you said, your voice hesitant. For some strange reason, you just had a horrible feeling that something bad was going to happen, but you had no proof. It wasn't like you had premonitions.

"Fuck," you said, a sharp sensation entering your head, as if you just got hit in the head.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Sam asked, concern in his voice.

"Yeah just..." the pain got more intense, and you felt yourself start to lose balance; Sam's hands instantly finding your arms in order to keep you from falling. "My head really fucking hurts," you said, almost strained.

"Let's sit down uh?" Sam suggested, as he started leading you toward the curb in front of the shelter.

"Sammy, she okay?" You heard Dean say, the sound of the impala's door opening and closing. You heard barely hear the sound of his running toward you and Sam, as everything started to sound so muffled due to the intense pain and pounding in your head.

"You know, I don't know what I'd ever do without you," Sam said, caressing your cheek.

"I'm sure you'd be fine. You did just fine before you met me," you said, gently smiling at him.

"But my life is a lot better with you in it," he admitted.

"So is mine," you confessed.

"I love you," he replied.

"I love you too," you smiled.

You didn't really know how you had gotten to sitting on the curb but you now where, Sam and Dean on either side of you. The intense pain was starting to subside, and the pounding was starting to cease. You couldn't tell what either man was saying, as they still sounded muffled.

"Y/N?" Sam asked, his hands resting on your shoulders.

You turned to look at him, and all of a sudden you felt the urge to cry. Your hand reached out and touched his cheek. "Sam..." your voice was low, almost inaudible.

"Yeah?" He replied, his voice as low as yours.

"Take me home," you said.

"Sure," he nodded.

"To the Bunker," you clarified.

Sam looked at you; confusion clear across his face. "The Bunker?"

In the next and final chapter...

He scratched the back of his head before pointing to your side table. “Open up the drawer there,” he said, slight hesitation in his voice. When you didn’t move, he sighed. “Trust me,” he said.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @crystal555 @hannahisthebanana @seamlessepiphany @madzzz0797 @livingordeadwhoknows @writinginfear @roskar16 @rachiem4-blog @coldspoons @fuiabarcelos @foxyjwls007 @midorimachisenpaii @sammysnaughtygirl @missscarlettangel @frozenhuntress67 @snakebxtez @crystalandphoebewifey @spnandpj @androah @taraswifes If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link If I forgot to tag you and you wanted to be tagged, my apologies!

#Sam Winchester x reader #Sam Winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #Sam x reader #Sam x you #reader insert #female reader

[darknqlmes]

Why didn't you tell us?

PARING: Dean Winchester/Sister!Reader/Sam Winchester

WARNINGS: Language, Blood, Past Abuse, Threats To Kill Someone!

SUMMARY: Y/N Winchester is the oldest out of Dean and Sam, so that means she took all of the abuse. When she heard about John's death, she was happy that she was free. But what happens when she gets home to the bunker and sees someone that she never wanted to see again?

(Also, I'm going to change the story line where Mary left John and Y/N was left to take care of Sam and Dean.)

Y/N, just got in the bunker after a vampire hunt. walking down the stairs when she heard muffled talking. She stopped and listened, but she couldn't make out the voices, so she went the rest of the way down the stairs, and when she looked, she went pale.

"John." Y/N said it coldly and with a bitter voice. John, Sam, and Dean all looked at Y/N and took in her appearance. She had blood all over her and had her duffel bag over her shoulder; she looked like she had seen a ghost; her hair was matted down and messy; even with it in a messy ponytail, she looked like a mess.

"Y/N, honey, how are you?" John asked, "Sam, Dean, what is John doing here?" Y/n asked with a bitter, cold tone, not even looking at them as she asked her question, "Y/n h-." "Boys, get the keys to Baby and drive to a bar or something. I want to talk to John alone.

"Y/N cut Dean off Sam, and Dean looked at each other and just headed towards their rooms like they were little kids that just got punished. "Why are you here? Why, after everything you put me through?" "I wanted to apologize." Y/N chuckled bitterly.

"Apologies? Well, it's a little too late for that, John. You abused me! my whole childhood, and I allowed it because I was scared of you hurting the boys! Oh, and let's not forget about the many times you raped me! All because Mary FUCKING LEFT!" "I did that because you didn't listen to me! So I thought that was the best way for you to listen." "I WAS A KID! A FUCKING KID, John! I WASN'T LISTENING BECAUSE I WAS SO YOUNG! I was nine. Nine, and taking care of you. Taking care of all of us. I was in fourth grade, dragging your ass out of the yard. So you wouldn't freeze to death. I stayed up all night with Sam and Dean when they had chicken pocks. I washed Sam's and Dean's shitty diapers. I picked lice out of Dean and Sam's hair. And I was here when Sam and Dean got their first heartbreak—not Mary, but me." What John and I didn't know was that Sam and Dean were hiding behind the wall, listening to us.

"And never you; you were too fucking loaded." I had tears in my eyes, and John just looked ashamed. "Just get out, John. I've had enough of you're shit." "No." I turn around, looking at John with a death glare.

"What the fuck did you just say?" "I said no, Y/N." I chuckled, "GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I KILL YOU, John Winchester!" This time he listened and started walking to the stairs, which I followed.

"Oh, and John." He turned around and looked at me. "If I ever, and I mean ever, see you anywhere near this damn Bunker or near Sam and Dean, I will make you beg for death. Understand?" John nodded his head with fear in his eyes. Then he ran up the stairs and out the door.

I just sighed and went into the library with my hands on the table. I let out a sob, but quickly covered my mouth with my hand. But then I heard a rustle, like someone was moving. I knew that. It was Sam and Dean. "Guys, you can come out. What are we? Five?" I asked with sarcasm in my voice.

They come out and rush to my side. When they saw that I was collapsing to the ground, they caught me just before my knees could touch the ground. while I was sobbing loudly. They started whispering in my ear that everything would be okay. But I knew nothing would be okay.

"Why didn't you tell us, Y/N?" Sam asked, "Because you guys shouldn't have to know what I go through." They just hugged me for the rest of the night. We ate snacks and watched movies. While we all cuddled.

#Supernatural x Sister!Reader #Supernatural x reader #Supernatural fluff #Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader #Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader #Supernatural #John Winchester x Daughter!Reader

[lanabuckybarnes]

Tha gaol agam ort.

This was originally a drabble, now it’s probably a mediocre one shot but the words kept coming and my fingers kept typing.

I just wanted an excuse to boast that I’m Scottish lol. I hope you enjoy. There should be a rough translation with every word or phrase but if I’ve missed any let me know!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Scottish! Female reader

Trigger Warnings: Swearing is all! Unless you count the use of Y/N as one. Also I call Scots a dialect once, please don’t come for me my people.

Word Count: 1.9k (oh my god it’s over 1000 words!!!)

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

When Bucky had first met Y/N, he had no clue what she was saying but the confusing phrases and silly placement of random words she intrigued him. Originally just her speech had him interested but it wouldn’t stay like that.

It was only after 4 months of getting to know her, speaking to her almost everyday, whether she was happy, sad or drunk until Bucky had been confident enough to say he understood what she was saying. Most of the time.

The others though, they hadn’t a clue.

It was winter, the temperature dropping rapidly each day. The crime didn’t stop. Bucky and Y/N had just finished their patrol, thoughourly soaked to the bone from the unrelenting rain.

The doors to the elevator opened on the communial floor, Y/N popping out first with a grumpy Bucky, looking akin to a soggy cat following behind.

“Fuck me it’s baltic out there like” the thick accent boomed across the living area, the others looked at her in confusion. Bucky gazed at their bewildered faces, sighing.

“She said it’s cold”. At the translation they all gave a variation of agreement, they were thankfully Bucky had spent a lot of time around her. They needed a translator, and he needed a girlfriend.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Lover boy. Sam had started calling him around HQ and it stuck, much to Bucky’s bemusement and confusion. He didn’t see the heart eyes he’d gaze at Y/N with, after all. ‘They were just too lazy to learn’, he said to himself, pummeling shot after shot into the thick punching bag.

“Careful lover boy, you’ll knock the stuffing out of it” Sam quipped, entering the gym, his skipping ropes hung loosely over his shoulder.

“Lover boy” Bucky repeated lowly whilst sending a vicious right hook into the leather, he was thinking of Sam’s face. The nickname tasted disgustingly bitter on his tongue, Sam just laughed.

‘Lover boy? What the hell kind of name was Lover boy anyways?’ A deep scowl settling itself onto his features as he thought. He almost didn’t hear the gym door squeak open again.

“Ooft, don’t look in the fridge you’ll turn the milk sour” She giggled at her own joke. ‘Very funny Y/N’ Bucky mused in his head. His scowl worsened, if it was even possible but he failed to repress the small blush at the sound of her chuckles.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Bucky had been stuck on those words all day. The the nickname never failed to leave his head after any one of the group called him it, the foul mood it brought following it as well. The only person Bucky hadn’t chewed the head off of was Y/N. Which the others weren’t particularly surprised about.

Watching a grown man shovel cereal into his mouth was probably the most interesting thing Y/N had ever seen, sorcerers and aliens be damned. The conversation she was having with Nat and Sam fading in and out of her mind in favour of watching Bucky chew violently, throughly slaughtering the wheat O’s.

“What do you think?” Nat asked, a smile playing on her lips. She’d caught her staring at Bucky, again.

“Huh?”

“About love, Sam thinks that everyone has a soulmate but I’m not so sure. What say you?” Nat clarified, leaning forward on her chair.

“Well my granny used to say, ‘What’s fur ye, will no go by ye’ so I suppose that’s my stance” She smiled at Nat who’s jaw had dropped in utter confusion.

“Hey lover boy, translate that” Sam shouted over to Bucky, his icy gaze turned in the direction of the trio. Allowing himself to linger a little too long on Y/N’s soft features.

“Hey!” Clicking his fingers at Bucky, Sam directed his attention back to the conversation.

“She said what’s for you won’t go by you. It means if you are bound to get something you will get it”. His features turned almost deadly “and click your fingers in my face again and you’ll get what’s coming for you”

“Ok, ok. Keep the heid” (calm down) she interjected, her small hand coming up to rest on the metal of Bucky’s shoulder , her soft fingers grazing over the sensitive skin at the edge. Such a simple gesture shouldn’t have caused his heart to flutter in the way it did.

As soon as Y/N had disappeared, Nat following behind, Bucky cornered Sam in the kitchen.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” He questioned. Sam picked up on the threatening tone laced through his voice.

“Calling you what man?” He chuckled back, trying to act innocent but he crumbled, laughing at the tension.

“Lover boy.”

The sound of Bucky’s angry voice saying those words had Sam buckled in two. He laughed hard, his palm slapping against his thigh as he propped himself up with the other.

“You don’t think we haven’t seen those looks, for a grumpy old man you sure do give her the heart eyes” Sam spoke once his fit of giggles subsided.

“Banner ‘hypothosised’ you were falling in love the first time you translated for her. Not a single person in this building knows what she’s saying except you, it’s not friendship that’s making you want to learn”

Bucky’s faced was flushed red, from anger or embarrassment at being caught out? he had no clue. Probably from both.

“Steve is the least laziest man I know and even he couldn’t learn, he tried many times” Sam explained. Bucky remebered the few occasions Steve had grabbed him by the shoulder or wrist, asking what the misspelled phrases or words in his little red book had meant, phrases you’d said to him that flew over his head. Sam was right.

“Steve also had 10$ on you having a crush on her” Sam let slip, tucking in his lips as soon as the words escaped.

“You’re taking bets on me!” He hissed

“Come on man, how could we not. It was Tony’s idea” Sam was trying to save his own ass by pushing others under the bus.

“I cannot believe you” Bucky snapped before turning on his heel, he’d deal with Sam later. Right now he had to relax. His feet moved on their own, seeking out a familiar room.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Her door rattled, its hinges threatening to break if they were shuddered any longer.

“Alright keep your hair on I’m coming” she exclaimed, rushing from the bathroom with a pale green facial mask painted on her face.

“Bucky! w-what are you doing here?” She asked, embarrassment filling her body at the thought of her appearance.

He didn’t say a word, pushing past her and flopping down on her bed in a way a huffy toddler would flop to the floor if they didn’t get their own way.

“Ok then” she mumbled to herself, taking a seat next to his sprawled out body.

“Who shat in your cereal?” A normal thing for her to say, he knew she was only asking what was up. Even if her tone was a little mocking.

“Sam”.

“Oh how did I guess?” Laughing at her own words as she lay back beside Bucky, her head unintentionally resting against his inner arm.

He thought of moving, thought of whipping his arm to his side but the soft hair slightly tickling his flesh was grounding him. Allowing the anger to dissipate from his body.

“You know they keep calling me lover boy” He stated. ‘Lover boy?’ She thought. ‘Why lover boy?’.

“Why lover boy?” She asked, the question mimicking his thoughts from earlier.

“Well that’s what I asked Sam. I didn’t like his answer, not that it was much of an answer” Bucky responded, although Sam had told him bluntly he didn’t feel comfortable enough to repeat it to her.

He turned his head to watch her soft features try to determine the answer of her own question, she hadn’t even noticed his sapphire eyes watching her. With those same heart eyes that Sam had mentioned.

Gazing lovingly into the side of her head. His pupils dilated, watching every twitch of her brows, every time her eyelashes brushed against her cheek as she blinked. Every time her pink tongue peeked out to wet her plush lips.

Oh my god! Sam was right. He hadn’t just learned her dialect because of genuine interest in the meaning, but because of his interest in her.

He pulled his body up suddenly, her head flopping against the bed causing her to squeak in surprise.

“Gonnae no dae that!” (Don’t do that!) She yelped in surprise, the accent coming through thicker than ever but Bucky was far too focused on his own thoughts.

“Bucky?” She sat up as well, leaning forward almost comically to catch a glance of his frustration streaked face.

“Are you alright?” ‘Fuck that accent was distracting’ he thought. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t keep his feelings bottled up, he didn’t want to lose Y/N as a friend but the longer the feelings festered the worse they got felt to keep hidden.

“No. I can’t do this anymore Y/N, I can’t be around you everyday, I can’t watch movies together, I can’t drink with you anymore. I can’t do anything with you anymore. Not until I’ve said what I have to say” Bucky exclaimed. He was sure he sounded angry to her but after all the pent up frustration as a result of having to keep himself from smashing his lips against hers had built up to its boiling point, he was hoping she’d understand.

“What the hell is going on?” She sounded crestfallen, the words breaking her heart. Had she said or done something wrong? Offended him in some way?

“I have spent too much time together with you, as friends. I can’t keep denying my feelings anymore, it’s hurting me physically to hold myself back. I’m borderline insane because I have to contain my thoughts of you” He took a deep breath, looking everywhere but her wide eyes.

“I love you, I have done so for a while. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, I mean I’m a horrible person. The things I did as the Winter Soldier to you, to everyone I’m surprised you even consider me a frie-“

He didn’t get the chance to finish his rant before she’d pulled him towards her. Stealing his lips away from his words selfishly.

The realisation of what exactly was going on clicked, he acted quickly, pulling her close. Almost too close to his own large frame. He groaned into her mouth at the feeling of her long nails scratching his scalp lightly.

His tongue poked against her mouth, fighting for dominance against her own when she let him in.

He’d never imagined he’d feel a kiss like this, not ever again but here it was. If he could’ve, he would’ve died of asphyxiation right then and there. She pulled away first, her breath heavy against his swollen mouth and reddened face.

“You’re an eejit” (idiot) She beamed, pecking his lips again.

“Tha gaol agam ort” she whispered, as if anything louder would scare him and his thoughts of her away.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, he knew a lot of phrases but this one had him stumped. She noticed the confusion in his features.

“It means I love you” she explained, tucking a loose strand of his soft brunette hair behind his ear.

“I love you too” he replied, mustering up all the passion he felt for her and squeezing it into those few words. Her eyes widened slightly, a laugh bubbling up from her throat. She tried covering her mouth but he pulled her hand away.

“What? What is it?” He smiled as well. Her giggles setting off bubbling fireworks in his abdomen.

“You have my face mask all over you”

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Ahhh, im actually proud of this. Even if it was a little selfish of me to write one with this topic.

AND it’s over 1000 words which is a big deal considering I can’t seem to stay focused for 2 minutes. I can’t wait to never write something as good as this again lol

I hope you enjoy x

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #marvel #james bucky barnes #beefy bucky fluff #marvel mcu #mcu bucky barnes

[jazzsonly]

౨ৎ blurb. ౨ৎ

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ.

pairing(s): natasha x gn!reader

warning(s): angst. unfinished story.

summary: uhhh

────────✯────────

A week and half.

That’s how I’ve been avoiding Nat and I was going to keep avoiding her.

I couldn’t face her.

Not after how I reacted when she’d told she wanted to marry Bruce.

Not after I found how just how much he held her heart in the palm of his hands.

Lately I’ve been taking more mission just to make it easier to avoid her, though I’m not sure she were even looking for me considering she was back with booger boy.

The same man who dropped Carol after she refused to have sex two weeks into the relationship.

What an ass.

It were even worse that I was here sitting at a bar at one Tony’s parties and I knew Natasha would walk in here with booger on her arm, smiling her temporary smile.

God, I downed my second of drink of the night at the thought.

“Come on. You can mope around forever, dance with Steve and I.” Bucky who now leaned again the counter next to me spoke.

“I’d rather sit here and drink my sorrows away.” I stare into my empty glass as I reply to him

He pulled my arm causing me to stumble up from my seat, “What kind of friend would I be if I let you do that?”

“A good one.” I utter to which he chuckled continuing to pull me to the dance floor where Sam did the worm and Steve laughed at him.

“Lighten up for one night.” Bucky pleaded and I mange a sigh, fleeing a fake smile.

“Fine. I’ll pretend to be joyful but first I need another drink.” I pat his shoulder, heading back to the bar.

I threw a 20 down asking the tender for two shots of vodka to which he placed two empty glasses before me, pouring the substance into them.

I thanked him before downing them and turning to search for Bucky but instead I was met with a particular red head that stood in my view staring up at me.

I gulp.

“You’re better at avoiding than I thought. I couldn’t find you for weeks.” Her tone bitter and her stare cold.

“I’ve just been busy with mis—

“bullshit I talked to Steve and he told me you practically begged him for missions.” She interjected.

“Shouldn’t you be with Bruce? Dancing the night away.” This time my tone was bitter.

“Yeah I should but you’re more important right now. I wanna know what’s bothering you.”

Usually my heart would jump at her saying I’m more important than Bruce but I think I’d given up hope for her.

“Nothings bothering me Natasha. I’ve gotta go, Bucky’s waiting on me.” I try to move past her and she grabs my wrist, dragging me in the direction of the door.

Once we were outside I pulled my wrist from her grasp.

“Did I do something?” She asks, well more of a demand in the form of a question, saying ‘tell me why you’re avoiding me’

I shoving my hands into my pockets, “liste—”

Before my sentence had even begun it ended due to Bruce appearing from the door.

“There you are,” he pulled her into his embrace kissing her (clearly drunk and only wanted one thing.)

“Hey, can we talk later I’m dealing with something right now.” She referred to me and he groaned.

“You guys can talk I’m gonna,” I gestured to the sidewalk behind me.

“Y/n.” She pleaded.

“No nat. I can’t. How could I be so stupid? You love him,” I finally break, the sight of his hands on her waist getting to me. “You would never even look my way.”

“And it’s something I don’t get because I’m so good to you and he treats you like you’re nothing but you’re everything, everything and more.”

#natasha x y/n #natasha romonova #natasha romanov #natasha ramanoff #wanda x natasha #wandanat #the avengers #marvel #black widow #natasha x reader #natsha romanoff

[starlitangels]

Some Redacted Characters Playing Phasmophobia Headcanons

For any of y’all who don’t know, Phasmo is a kinda glitchy ghost-hunting horror game where ya gotta gather evidence to figure out what kind of ghost is haunting the “map” go watch someone play it, I think it’s hilarious

I’m not gonna play that game myself but I can watch others play it no problem

Shaw Pack

David straight faces through everything. Never sounds scared over the voice chat

Angel is laughing right next to him because he does have a death grip on their leg

Asher never turns his radio off so everyone can hear him at all times

Is also 100% fearless and knows all the background lore hints by heart

He still screams if he gets got by the ghost though

Milo. Yelps. At. Everything. And jumps

Like seriously if Asher puts something down too close to Milo, he will jump

Sweetheart is sitting nearby laughing their head off

Darlin’ plays with their mic muted unless absolutely necessary so their packmates don’t hear them yelp when something startles them

However they are also very efficient and ridiculously lucky when it comes to hiding and surviving hunts. Even better than Asher and he’s totally not bitter about it

That said Darlin’s not afraid to let the ghost get them in order to mess with the others by leading the ghost right to the boys

Milo’s totally not holding a grudge over it

The mates also have nights where they play together but Sam is kinda grumbly so his mic and controls are co-piloted by Darlin’

When the mates play together Angel always charges in headfirst, bold as brass, and ends up somehow doing most of the work and not dying even when their sanity stat plummets. They ignore almost all of David’s advice sitting next to them because they’re better at the game than he is

But they also scream and jump a lot more (most of it for show to entertain their friends who always get a good laugh out of it)

Despite being almost as good as Asher, Baaabe almost always gets got by the ghost first

Usually because the ghost was chasing Sweetheart and true to their Stealth nature even in a video game, they broke its line of sight and hid and the ghost caught sight of Babe

Sam is usually… there. When it’s Mates Night Game Night he stays in the van/truck. Darlin’ is the loudest backseat gamer

—

Solaire Clan

Darlin’ drags Sam into this game

Vincent loves this game

Lovely takes a long time to come around on it because being hunted in the dark by an unseen force kinda reminds them of Adam

Sam doesn’t know how literally anything works to the point where Darlin’ and Vincent tease that he’s refusing to remember what all the items do on purpose. Vincent calls him an old man and Sam shoots back that Vincent was literally born one year after him and just turned younger and to shut his damn mouth

Which of course makes Vincent laugh harder

Lovely eventually tentatively starts playing the game because of how much Vincent is laughing with Sam and Darlin’

And over time Lovely gets really good at it. A lot of it seems like dumb luck but no. They’re just good

—

D.A.M.N. Fam

First of all, the four-person multiplayer limit means Gavin/Freelancer and Huxley/Damien take turns and eventually Lasko and his Water Elemental I presume

Sometimes Damien and Huxley are both on the game and Gav/Freelancer swap, sometimes vice versa, etc.

Lasko screams at everything at first, but as he slowly learns the game he actually becomes the best at recognizing the patterns of each ghost type’s quirks

Damien tries so hard to get good at the game and never seem scared but Huxley’s laughter over the mic always clues the others into when Damien got spooked by something

Huxley jumps occasionally but usually just does whatever Lasko instructs him to do with a “sure thing bro” and his usual chill attitude

Although when he does jump there is always an audible thump over his microphone of his knees hitting his desk

Gavin and Freelancer honestly spend the whole game night messing with each other. Trying to jumpscare one another

Or Gavin is pretending to try to seduce the ghost and the lewd noises he makes while talking to the ghost with the spirit box with the radio on totally don’t make Lasko turn as red as a tomato

To their credit, Freelancer does try on their turn. It’s not their fault they get super focused and then Gavin putting a hand on their shoulder to ask if they want a snack makes them shriek much to the amusement of their friends

Lasko’s Water Elemental is even more chill than Huxley and played this game for ages before meeting the group and does their own thing but always to the benefit of the group. Rarely uses the voice chat for more than a few words announcing their intentions. “Power has been turned on.”—“Freezing temperatures confirmed in the upstairs back bedroom. That’s where the ghost is.”—“The ghost is hunting.”—“Okay. Hunt’s over.”

Freelancer and Gavin refuse to show this game to Caelum

Freelancer occasionally announces a false hunt to freak out the others—and almost always a real hunt starts right as they admit they were messing around and they’re the first to get got

If Freelancer isn’t down first it’s Huxley, who will purposely draw the ghost’s attention to protect his friends

That said the whole group usually survives the whole expedition each round once they get good at it

—

Misc. Bois

Aaron doesn’t play but Smartass does. Aaron becomes a decent backseat driver for lore

Elliott and Sunshine actively sabotage each other and mess around more than they pay attention. They still get everything done correctly anyway

Starlight plays occasionally and Avior never does but he will watch and he is the absolute best pattern recognizer and the best backseat gamer

Guy loves this game to pieces. Sometimes it makes Honey jump. They do play with him a lot but Guy is better at it

Ollie is the Actual Best at this game but no matter how much he plays it and “Gits Gud” as it were, he still gets spooked. His partner will play but not necessarily understand everything they’re supposed to be doing

The Project Meridian bois don’t have time to play right now. Please leave a message and they’ll call you right back

Geordi gets so easily spooked by the noises but he loves the game anyway. When things are happy and fine Cutie gets a kick out of listening to his frantic thoughts

Morgan can’t See his own future so the mystery of what’s going to happen is quite enjoyable because it’s the opposite of meeting new people and immediately knowing them better than they know themselves by Seeing their entire future

Blake can See his own future so the game isn’t fun and he knows what it’s going to be every time

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #so many characters do I have to tag them all? #Redacted Asher #Redacted David #Redacted Milo #Redacted Sam #Redacted Vincent #Redacted Gavin #Redacted Damien #Redacted Huxley #Redacted Lasko #Redacted Aaron #Redacted Elliott #Redacted Avior #Redacted Guy #Redacted Geordi #Redacted Ollie #Redacted Morgan #Redacted Blake

[cherubispunk]

UP IN YOUR ARMS (CHAPTER ONE) -Noir!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: The Canary Club. Illicit. Underground. Dangerous too. But nowhere near as dangerous the affair you and Joel start there.

a note from Lucy: chapter one! I'm digging my own grave here. thats all im saying. i promise it is focused on joel and the reader later in the chapter. im just setting the scene for differnt relationships in the series.

playlist

wc: 6969 (haha lol) Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! 1940s!au, no outbreak, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his 40s), smut. p in v sex, oral - f receiving, oral through panties, choking, groping, sexism, mentions of racism, touch starved joel, me being back on my bullshit, drinking, ,smoking, throwing fists because men are stoopid and cant talk things out, cheating on the readers part, but joel knows this and still fucks her like the horny bastad he is. *sigh*, use of pet names such as doll, cursing, ww2 references, an unhealthy relationship between reader and joel, mentions of blood, let me know if ive missed any warning out that should be tagged. 6969 words of unedited bullshit because im piss drunk and cant for the life of me edit.

series m.list | m.list

The jazz band was one of the finest groups in the city. ‘Only the finest for The Canary Club’, as Johnny had put it. 

Johnny Boy Finnick. 

Now he was a man. Played sports in college, muscular, strong arms that pinned you to the wall or mattress or table. Hands that shuffled playing cards with ease and had you screaming far after the night was over. Deep blue eyes and blonde hair that never fell out of place from its slicked back style. Not even after he had crushed someone's jaw under the weight of his pummeling, bloodlusting fist.  

Johnny made a name for himself bootlegging liquor, too young to fight in the first world war. Took over as The Boss of Boston. It’s how he got his name. Johnny Boy. Fresh faced but the heart of a ragged old man. Lost it all after the second world war, gained it back not long after. A killer with a bone deep yearning for blood, money, violence, and you. 

He sat in his pressed suit, legs parted as he leaned over to display his full flush to the table, flashing a killer smile when he collected the money off his right hand man and three more of his boys. You smiled from the bar, beads of your dress twinkling in the low light of the speakeasy, ready to waltz over with another old fashioned and drape yourself in his lap.

“Thanks, Henry.” You smiled at your oldest friend, taking the drink he had placed down in front of you on the bar. Henry was your age, 25. A boy from Hartford, Connecticut, grew up in Kansas, then moved here looking for work in a big city. Honest, hardworking. Sweeter than cherry pie. And his little brother Sam was just the cutest pip you'd ever seen. 

“No problem, Doll.” He teased, which deserved a roll of the eyes from you. 

“How many times have I asked you not to call me that?”

“This would make it…” he glanced up for a second, as if calculating within his mind, “one too many times to count.”

“Funny.” You gave him a quick bitter smile. All in good fun, clearly, for he took no offence. He just shot you a smile, running a clean rag over the bartop, collecting two glasses and wiping the rings of condensation they left upon maplewood. 

“Your man looks thirsty. Might wanna take him his drink now. Before he gets the wrong idea about me talking to ya.” You sighed, craning your head slightly to look back at Johnny who scanned the place with a scowl. It made your skin crawl the thought of his temper snapping again. Despite it, you left Henry with a playful wink his way before swanning back over, placing Johnny’s drink in front of him and a vermillon kiss to his cheek. 

Johnny sneered at the affection, wiping your lipstick stain from his cheek. All the confidence you had fell to the floor and shattered miserably. Liquid courage sloshed on the cured wood floor.

“Fuck’s sake, Doll. What you do that for?” He demanded of you, the disgust in his cruel cerulean eyes sending a chilling, agonising jolt down your spine. 

“Sorry, Johnny.” You shied away, folded your hands together, eyes on the floor.

“Ain't you gotta powder your nose or something? Go on. Piss off.” 

He was right. You’d be on soon. Drenched in the spotlight. Under the scrutinising, side cramping glare of everyone's eye. You could do with the quiet. So you shuffled off to your dressing room without a word more, holding back tears with your breath. 

In the mirror, you mourned the girl you were. Mourned the life you had before it all turned upside down. Mourned the man you fell in love with. And the monster you had no choice but to stay with. 

—

Joel was fuming. If you touched his skin you'd reel back with a scorched yelp because his blood ran hot, fast and thick under his flesh. Trust Tommy to catch himself in the web of underground crime. Always a joiner. Always a deserter too when things got heated. And who was left to untangle him from its intricate, venom snared weave? Joel ‘Gubbins’ Miller. He might as well have ‘mother to my brother’ branded on his forehead. Because that's what he was now. 

The war ended four years ago and ever since Tommy had been searching for his purpose. Preached about it round the dinner table in their grimy, mildew inhabited apartment like a preacher would his sermon. And every time it set Joel’s teeth on edge. Because he knew what came after the downfall. The pickup. 

Now, however, Joel was determined to nip this lunacy in the bud. Tear it up from the soil by the new roots. 

The Canary Club was one of the few remaining speakeasies around in Boston. To a cop it was practically a ghost of an establishment. Might as well not be there. But to a man like Joel, whose brother never stopped babbling on about the next best thing he had cooking for himself, it was as easy as pie.  

A shroud of cloud hung just above Boston’s looming buildings, teaming with the early moon to create a murky gloom over the dim city’s sin. It seemed to fill the hollow, smoggy air as they cast dark, taut shadows over the slick, grimy roads. The sky threatened rain for the third day in a row. A place that reeked of underground crime, drug rings and watered down, once bootlegged alcohol, laced with what one can only assume to be illegal too. All of that was washed down with the constant sour smell of new rain upon dirty tarmac. A city plagued and tarnished by its own rejects.The promise of work bought them in. But the lifestyle spat them back out. Chewed up and ruined by their own humanising hope.

He and his brother came in search of work. They were getting nowhere down south in Texas. On the dole and barely able to afford a loaf of bread between the two of them. Even their own mother hardly recognised her boys after the war. Said they were empty shells of men. Husks of the boys she raised. Killers. 

The woman was a pacifist at heart. And it was a trait that Joel not only saw as weak, but typical of women. Or that's what his father had socialised him into thinking. He didn't know where his father’s ideals ended and his started. As the days went by he saw more of the violence his father harboured in himself. Grimaced at the lug in the looking glass. 

Joel was no pacifist. But he didn't storm through the doors either. No gun was in hand ready to send people screaming bloody murder. That was stupid. A mistake that he knew could wind him up on the concrete in the flooded gulley with a bullet in his head where blood and water could finally mix. Instead he stole in quietly in the ambience of playing cards and a Jazz band, ordered himself a drink, and sat at the far corner of the bar where it was dimly lit. Just enough for him to see his drink and the room, but his face still remained shadowed. 

While he sipped in ponder, he took the chance to people watch. Scan the patrons for any uncanny resemblance of dear Tommy. But nothing. He seemed distracted by the careful and steady hand that polished glass after glass, though each of them were spotless before touching the rag. 

A pointless task. Some may say sisyphean. But the boy doing so knew when eyes were on him. It was a very rare occurrence if not related to his race. People of any darker colour were ogled often in these parts despite it being more accepted within the north of America. There was still divide and segregation. However, this new patron wasn't looking for Henry’s skin colour, rather contemplating how on earth a boy such as him had ended up in such a place. What connection he had to the gang. Was he like Tommy? Roped in at the side of the side of the road and choking on his remaining pride. Or in a sticky financial situation? All these questions seemed to circle like the rag in the crystal glass Henry held. 

“What’s your name, kid?” Joel asked him with an ex-smoker's voice, brow dark in the shadow. The boy looked up, eyes youthful, but they'd seen things no man should have to. 

“Henry.” He said after a beat, quick to refill Joel’s glass when it was empty besides a drop circled thin and amber in the bottom. “Yours?” Joel lifted his head, taking a sip before placing his glass back on the bartop in furrowed brow contemplation. 

“Joel.” He leaned forward on his forearms, haunched over the bar, before looking around again. “Whatcha doin’ here, Henry?” 

Henry laughed slightly, looking down at his feet before back in Joel's eyes. And what he was met with was the hollow ache of a man scarred by war. Henry’s face fell flat. 

“Working.” 

“No…I mean in Boston.”

Henry cleared his throat at the sudden, and even brash way Joel approached his question. So much that it took him a second to frown and then reply. 

“Came from Kansas. Hard for a black kid to find honest work there. Especially with a family to look out for.” His words were solemn and reflected a truth Joel knew all too well growing up down south. Even if he never lived it in his own white skin.

“You look a little young to have a kid.” 

“I don’t. I got a brother.” Joel nodded as he listened, waiting for him to go on. Which he did after a beat of silence. “Bright kid. Bright future too. He’s deaf though. Got a lot stacked against him in this world. Mom can't bring in enough to fund education for ‘im. So I stepped up.”

“No Daddy?” Joel asked and Henry shook his head. “How’d you end up here then?”

“A girl.” The look Joel gave Henry was sceptical. But the young boy was soon to put a stop to it all. “Not a girlfriend. Just a girl. We grew up in the same building. She moved up north for a life and I followed a few months later. She met a guy. A wealthy guy. And she wrote to me often of how swell Boston had been for her.”

Joel wasn't the questioning type. Neither one to beat around the bush. But Henry intrigued him. Reminded him a lot of Sarah. The challenge she had faced with the colour of her skin that he, as a white man, would never understand. He felt a guilt about it every day that flared up in the dark of night before his eyes closed for restless and futile sleep. “And this guy?”

“Him.” Henry nodded subtly over to the table of men playing cards. Poker. A game Joel knew well in the frontline and in Egypt where he fought. Him and a few others often huddled together in their own game. Nothing but the last pair of intact socks to bet on, or a single cigarette to get them through the night. Joel quit smoking the moment he got back. Knew it was something that made him unpredictable and jittery in the best of situations. “Johnny Boy Finnick. A big name in these parts.” 

Joel followed Henry’s gaze, but his attention was snagged by the unmistakable head of dark curled hair facing away from him. He knew his brother anywhere and his blood began to boil as he threw back his second drink and slammed the empty glass on the bartop. 

“Hey, man-” Henry tried, shoulders straining as he stood to attention. Joel didn't pay him any mind. Merely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before his bar stool sharied upon the varnished wood floor. He cared not for the noise. Only the feeling he would get once his closed fist met the bone on the bridge of Tommy’s nose. 

Trumpets flailed to a stop and drums failed mid blow. The room fell silent after a chorus of gasps. 

He loved his brother. Deeply. So much it caused a chasm of a rib cracking hole in his chest every time Tommy slipped up. But he saw red now it all caught up behind his lids that blinked once. That split second of not seeing and before he had a chance to second guess, he was gripping the back of tommy;s collar and wrenching him up to his feet to deliver a shiner to the face. 

Tommy staggered back, and everyone at his table stood up with the intention to harm. Yet no one but the brawling brothers fought. As he gained his footing again, he also gained his senses, recognising Joel anywhere. 

“Joel, what the fu-” He was hardly able to finish before another shooting pain split his bottom lip open and Tommy’s mouth was filled with the taste of his own bitter blood. Blood he and Joel shared and were now shedding in a futile fight of nothing but testosterone. That was enough to send the same foul blow to his kin. Joel winced, knowing the crescent of a bruise that would bloom on his cheekbone overnight. One of Tommy’s many rings sliced his skin. He felt warmth in crimson dribble from a fresh flesh wound. 

“Hey!” One loud and bellowing voice that had the power to command a whole unit of men boomed out before neither Joel or Tommy had the chance to throw another fist. It was for the better. Any more and Joel’s knuckles would have bruised purple. A colour of shame. 

It was Johnny. And his face was stoic as he stared each brother down with a burning gaze that had even Joel’s hairs stood on end at the nape of his neck. Like an army stood to attention before the first charge. Except he didn't move. Joel knew now where he stood in the food chain of this speakeasy. And it was right at the very bottom. “You!” He pointed at Tommy. Go clean yourself up.” And Tommy went as pale as a funeral sheet before nodding meekly. His face melted from shock to shame in the blink of Joel’s very eye before he grumbled something under his breath and passed Joel with a sharp clip to his shoulder. 

It's his turn now. 

At this point you'd come out to see what the commotion was for. The walls, while thick upstairs in the printer's press, were thin in the basement. And you;d heard silence and the spit of a man as his blood splattered with spit on the floor in the doorway. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doin throwin’ fists in my god damned club for?!” He roared. And Joel had to take the duration of both inhale and exhale to get his lips and tongue to work. But the scowl on his face said it all. “Huh?!” Jonny’s nostrils flared like a spanish thoroughbred bulls’. 

“That’s my brother you got workin’ for ya. I ain't havin’ him in some shady drug ring you got goin in. I aint!” 

Jonnly was no stupid man. Hr was smart. Quick minded and knew a man with balls. But Joel also knew very little. So this one time, he took the approach of calmness, and used his usual lying tongue for truth. Any other time it would she forked like Lucifer's serpent form. But now he was a man of coolness. “Right.” Johnny nodded at him, his tone was one that could soothe a ravenous bear. But with an edge as sharp as a knife. So sharp it could slice skin in one swift swoop. “Sit down.” He commanded calmly. “Let’s get you a drink.” 

With a wave of his hand a cha was pulled out. Two heavy handed brutes shoving Joel down into a chair, an old fashioned presented to him by Henry in front of him on the maplewood table. Then Johnny addressed the room gently. Set its patrons at ease. The music played its jazzy, jolly tune once more. People spoke again.And Johnny took his seat opposite Joel. 

“Look here…” The gangster waited for Joel to give him his name. Which he did. “Joel, I appreciate a strong swing as much as the next guy. But I don't appreciate it in my establishment.” Joel nodded in understanding. His temper ashamed him. How it ran hot under his skin. Fizzled white when provoked until he saw red in rage and swung. Never blindly though. He wasn't a loose cannon like the  broken soldier stereotype enforced. Just a fractured man. 

“You’re a soldier aint ya?” “Was.” Joel said gruffly. Curtly and he brewed a stare across from Johnny.

“Oh, nah.” Johnny shook his head, swirling his drink in the crystal glass, “Once a brother in arms, always a brother in arms. The war sticks with ya. You’re a soldier.” “Fine. Yeah, I'm a soldier.” 

“I know the war. I served like you. Left a boy and came back a shell of a man. Now look at me.” Joel took a moment to calculate his motive here. Johnny’s arms stretched wide with a smirk of pure pride as he gestured to the heart of his Boston crime empire. “I got money. I got birds.” He held up his glass to Joel, “I got liquor.” then leaned forward and spoke in a grave tone, "What you got?” 

Joel swallowed harshly, unable to answer because he had nothing in reality. 

“You got a job?” He shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “No.”

“Figured. Hard finding work when all the women are competent enough to do it themselves. Fight for your country. End up on the streets. You don't die a hero like you thought you would. No one knows your name.” He scoffed, holding fingers up in air quotes around competent. It left a bitter taste of disgust in Joel’s mouth as the father of a daughter. Curled the edges of his tongue distastefully. Made him kiss his teeth to hold back the insult. “Well, people know my name.” Johnny paused again, the air grew thick between them and smouldered on their shoulders. He was squinting at Joel opposite him, sizing him up. Joel was rugged. A strong build and most likely a strong character too. Something Johnny could always do with having in abundance. And so when the devil's own smirk curled at his lip, Joel felt a question brewing at the very tip of his tongue. One that would change his life for better or worse. Regardless of it he declined or accepted. “And they could know yours too.”

Joel didn't want to admit it for the sake of his crumbling pride, but the man had it all. Even a good five years his junior, the man made a living for himself. Picked himself up from the dirt and used bloodshed and bodies for the foundations. 

“I could use a guy like you–”

“No.” Joel put his offer down flat before it had the chance to meet the air. 

“Hear me out.” He said calmly, and held up a hand, “A roof over your head. A steady income. A little extra dough in ya pocket?” Johnny rubbed his thumb and index finger together in the older man's face. An action to which Joel’s nostrils flared. It was embarrassing to even mull over. “Come on,” Johnny smirked. “Give it a go.” 

The southerner’s lips pursed, as if he was thinking it over. Which he was. But to what lengths would he go? Sure, Joel was conditioned in a short few months to kill. He was good at it. Mowed down men on the frontline like clockwork. And his trigger finger twitched at the thought of holding that power once more. But that didn't mean he was a man without morals. The men’s blood he;d coat his hands in had families. They were someone's son. Probably someone's husband or father. Joel knew the hollow ache loss left. The imprint of a shadow it left. The chasm ripped in your chest. Loss felt like an agonising, deep, helpless pit. But here was Johnny, throwing him a rope 

“You know, you’re right. This ain't the time to talk this over.” Johnny held his hands up and leaned back in his seat before they clapped back in his lap. Now you were at Johnny’s side once more. But the figure of Joel in his chair had something jumping in your bones. Tongue curling to taste his very words.  “Dollface here will patch you up.” 

You raised a brow, giving the two of them a dirty look. “Excuse me? Do I look like a nurse?” You shut up when Johnny glared. Swallowed your pride, and sighed inwardly. You both hated and loved the power he held over you. As much as you despised it at times, Johnny had your being wrapped around his finger like a puppeteer holds his strings. And tightly. You felt his tug at the strain in your limbs. 

“And you come back here tomorrow. We’ll talk in my office over a drink and a cigar. A good fucking drink.” 

—

Joel swallowed harshly when he saw you. Eyes, wide and decorated by dark mascara lashes, white liner on lower waterlines, face of a doll like Johnny’s nickname for you suggested. The red lipstick you had re-applied moments prior was glossy, inviting him to stumble over velvet words he would hear you speak. Lean closer so the blood red could graze the shell of his ear while you would whisper a dirty joke at him. 

He followed as you led him down a corridor off to the other side of the bar. Your dress seemed fit for hypnotising him into your bidding. Surely you were a siren who climbed the strats of a pier of the east coast and arrived here. Something about the beauty you wielded was not the everyday sort. It was the type you see women bend over backwards to achieve even a glimmer of for their man who came back after work. He could see himself now. Loosening his tie, hanging up his coat and hat. Leaving his briefcase and sanity at the door to see you in a pinafore and pin curls. Pretty gingham dress. He’d sit at the table and either be presented by you or a meal for his satiation. He’d prefer to devour the sweetness between your legs. 

Your hand in front of his face had his attention now. Fingers snapping. Nails manicured and painted the same shade as your lipstick. 

“Hey, you listening?” You asked, face set into displeasure. Joel straightened as he cleared his throat.

“What?” His tone was gruff and he mirrored your expression to you. His southern accent catching you off guard, but is intriguing. 

“I said sit down.” 

Joel looked over at the chair set at a vanity mirror you gestured to with an extended arm. The second time he had been asked to be seated. The second time he obeyed. 

You took your time to wet a washcloth in the small basin in the corner with warm water. Took the bottle of whiskey you stashed last week from the bottom of a rickety chest of drawers. Joel watched you in the mirror, eyes narrowed a fraction to make sure you were of no threat to him. He knew he could take you easily. In more ways than one. The power imbalance had his length twitching in his trousers. 

Your hands weren't gentle as you sat on the vanity between his legs. You took his stubbled chin in your grasp and jerked his head up into the light, tilting it to take a closer look at the gash. 

“Stay still.” You said curtly, holding the rag to the opening of the bottle and wetting it. You then pressed it over the pad of your finger. The initial touch made his teeth bare at you and a hiss to escape his mouth. His large wrist enclosing around yours to make you stop. “I said,” And you yanked your wrist from his hold, “stay still.” 

He did as he was told again. Silence setting his between the odd hiss from him and twitch of muscle under weathered skin. The crows feet at the side of his eyes were old. He clearly had lost his smile to something in the past. But you didn't ask, only wondered as you wiped the dried blood clean from his wound. “Fuckin grown man and you cant take a little sting of a cut.” You mumbled under your breath to yourself in amusement. Followed by a small huff of dry laugh.

“Maybe if you weren't digging your fingers into a fresh bruise I wouldn’t be wincin’.” You shot him a look and let go.

“All done.” And you held up your hands for good measure. 

“What are you doing here anyway?” You asked, tossing the rag aside and crossing your arms. He reached for the whiskey and took a large gulp, pursing his lips at the slow burn in the back of his throat. 

“None of your business.” 

“What’s your name?”

“You know my name.” He stated lowly. He was right. But you found a sick satisfaction in having any man you liked bend to your will. Answer any question you so pleased to hear the answer to. 

His bones groaned as he stood up from the chair. Your coat draped over the back of it fell to the floor and you swiftly got up to swipe it from the floor and hand it on the hook on the back of the door before pressing your back to it and facing him. Blocking his exit.  “Move.”

“Tell me your name.” You crossed your arms, jutting your chin up at him. 

“Don’t make me move you, princess.”

“Tell me your name.” 

Joel bit his tongue, the vein in his neck starting to pulse visibly under his skin that once again went hot. 

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because I’m nosy.” You smiled, sarcastic and saccharine. “And i want to know the name i’ll be moaning tonight as i touch myself under the covers.” 

“Fuckin-” His jaw ticked, nostrils flared in his disdain. You kept your smile as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a small guttural noise from the back of his throat. A headache was starting to coil behind the strain of his eyes. “Joel.” And he looked back up at you. It still wasn't enough “Miller.” Your smile was genuine this time, just as sweet. You uncrossed your arms, standing up straight from the door to hold out your hand and give him your name in return. He rolled his eyes, reaching for the handle and swerving you. He pulled the door but you used your body weight to slam it shut with your back again. A loud slam and a creak of protest from its hinges.

“Where are you from, Joel?” 

“Is this a game to you, girl?” Joel growled. 

“Yes.” The smile you had was sly. Foxy. A  single finger ran down his chest and dared to slip just under his shirt’s collar. “I like games.”

“You don't wanna do that.” He warned, dark eyes burning you up inside from your very core. It was the look of a man’s lust that had been left untouched, unloved for quite some time now. It strained at his morality. But who were you to give up the warning and keen hand of a man who so desperately needed a release to the coiling tension of his shoulders. You saw it. Felt it in the rhythmic yet chaotic hammer of his heart against his ribs. As if it were trying with all its might not to break his own bones clean in two and lurch from its enclosure of flesh and bone. 

“And why not?” This was a devils game of chess. Careful calculated words from loose tongues and taking each other's moves in as you exhaled a counter. And oy had him three moves from checkmate. His king weak in defence, your advances stronger  by each word that fell into his eras from your red painted, enticing lips. He could feel his limbs being string up for you to pull at like a puppeteer in an advanced level of her craft. But he was no kind man. His words were even less forgiving than his disposition. 

“Because I aint a kind man. Haven't been for a long while. And I know types of things a man like me would wanna do to a pretty girl like you.” 

“I doubt it would be anything new.” You cooed, watching your finger as it traced a line lower over his buttons,  stopping at the top of his belt buckle and just shy of teasing at the growing bulge in his trousers. 

The tension between you was thicker than molasses. And it seeped through the cracks of his better judgement to the part of him that hungered for touch. That was ravenous for a single one of your fingers. 

“I don't think Johnny would like that.” 

“And I didnt like the way he spoke to me earlier.” You pouted. The way a child would when dined a sweet treat before dinnertime. 

“That aint a good reason to start an affair with me. Because when i get my grubby hands on ya there ain't no going back, doll.” 

His words were enticing you more. To have a man obsessing over your body. Your curves. Your voice singing his name as he fucked you dirtier than anyone into anything. Joel was that man now. He knew it in the very marrow of your bones that you were trouble. His new little minx. So it was no surprise when his lips crushed yours under the full weight of his sexual frustration. 

It was needy. Heated. A clashing of tongues and teeth as he pressed you with his entire simmering being into the wood of the door. His bulge grinding desperately into your thich that parted his legs. 

His tongue swiped your lower lip before drawing it back between his teeth for him to suckle on until it tingled deliciously. He was jealous with his touches. Groping your hips as the sating of your dress that crumpled to the floor. It revealed sweet sweet skin. Skin Joel wasted no time in delving in for the first damning lick. A pleasure to every sense. Sight, taste, touch, smell, sound. 

Heavy breaths were exhaled into the dewy skin of your clavicle, tongue languidly sliding over the high points of your collarbones and enclosing in a sharp suck over the skin just above your right breast. It sent a chorus of heavenly sinful, light and airy monas from your mouth and floated into his ears. His lips were chapped and weathered in contrast to the silk smooth of your skin. It was delightful. 

He went lower, got to his knees as he drank up the sense of a woman's skin for the first time in years. This was the taste of true damnation. He was past the opening of hell's gates and somehow found heaven in the parting of your thighs down the newly trodden path of your navel. 

He pressed his open mouth to your clothed cunt, tasted the seeping slick you gave him on his tongue and gluttonously inhaled your musk right at the apex of your thighs. Your fingers tangled into the curls of his messy, wind wrecked hair. Keening your hips up to press into the curve of his aquiline nose, and riding the burning in the pit of your belly starting to grow. Your head fell back against the door. Your mouth unhinged and letting out moan after sigh after mewl of his name. His face buried between the meat of your thighs as his hands gripped your asscheeks and spread them so he could push his face deeper between your folds. Your underwear drenched and ruined from your wetness and his spit while he tongued your hole through the flimsy lace. 

You pulled him back, smirked at the wreck he was with his lips sticky and shiny in the light of your dressing room. To then pull him up to your lips so you could curl your tongue into his mouth and taste yourself on him. It’s where the taste belonged. Among notes of whiskey and chewing tobacco and drugstore gum. 

His large hands pawed at your hips once more, listing you so your legs could wrap obediently round his waist. That's how it worked now. He wanted, you gave. And willingly like the sounds that fell into his motu like sweet, freshly harvested honey. Ut had the feel of money. Powerful and green like spring leaves. But with the warning of rotting when summer meets its tragic and fatal end. It was like trying to cross a canyon with a broken limb. Near impossible. The last sip of a drink that would ensure drunken and slurred movements. It took even the nest of a man his entirety to deny you, But deep down, Joel was a weak man. Strong in body, maybe mind too. But weak in soul. And he gave in with the cashing of your back against the vanity mirror. 

He had his faults. He knew that. And you did too. It had you wondering how a man like Joel loves. Did he change for his chosen lover? Or was he just as rough a callus as he was with everyone else. Would he destroy and ache and leave you wondering when your body would be at his whim next and how he would bend it to his will. Or would he let you lean into his embrace as he kissed down the column of your throat to the holy entitled epiphany between your thighs. The glisten of your hot cunt aching to be touched by anything. His everything. 

So you reached for his belt. So you undid it along with his buttons to touch his heated skin, To feel the blood flow beneath as the strain of each of his muscles. You ran a hand across his chest and he let his head fall back as a woman touched him for the first time as a man of war. A veteran.

He felt like he had been cast in gold by the sun for the first time in his life. Shed his skin for a new layer reserved just for you. As if he was thanking whatever resided up there for you. He was no believer in god, but, Jesus Christ, he was starting to believe in some form of higher power. You were proof that there was a blessing for him to steal away from the world. It was in your sound. Your taste. Your touch. It beckoned him the way your finger did, curling into the collar of his shirt to clash your lips with his and let. He had no autonomy over the moan that fell into his mouth where it festered at the back of his throat and was swallowed with a desperate and heady inhale. 

You trod roads into his skin with your touch. Ones he knew he would follow later that night in an erotomaniac’s pleasure. And you finally pulled his length free from his trousers. Your underwear was soon to follow and your slick aided the way he managed to sink so smoothly into your sopping heat. A squeeze he would commit to memory and savour like the taste of fresh and ripe fruit. Because you were. Fresh and youthful in age. Ready to be devoured to the core as a gleaning red apple would be. The very same one that even took in the garden of eden. Temptation. Fruit flesh to signify sin. 

He took his first bite out of you with a satisfying crunch. And keep devouring until there was nothing left but the remnants of your birth, ready to be resurrected, grown again in the form of a new tree. 

He stilled once he bottomed out, letting himself bask in the moment. The first time he was nestled deeply in the walls of your cunt. He heard your quiet whimpers for him to move. Felt the way your pert nipples brushed his sweat slicked skin. It was a ghost of a memory the last time he felt this. The heat of someone in the throes of intimacy. And it was all over him. It was the very air he wes starved of. The past was all paled in comparison because of the way your hips bucked pathetically to feel his thrust inside you. To get him going. No one had needed him this rawly, this undignifying before. 

A single hand clamped over your mouth, stilling your movements. He felt the tickle of your exhale against the pinky finger. 

“Stay still…” He commended with a swallowed down groan when you clenched around him, ironically repeating your words from earlier.

You looked at him. The glazed over, far away look in his eyes. His voice low and laden in a gravelly tone that came from the very back of his throat. You pulled him forward to lick it out again with your tongue when his hand fell to your throat. It gave a warning squeeze. And you once again canted your hips in protest. 

This time he moved. And it was like poetry as it hit that toe curling spot inside you. Made your eyes close in blissful ignorance of what this would do to you. YOu slick drooling from your cunt onto his shaft until it shined at his very base and dripped down his heavy balls. 

His hand squeezed your throat tighter. Had you yelling for him in a suppressed squeal. His other hand clamped around your mouth for you to moan into. Your words of praise lost on his ears, listened to by his palm instead. Every devil was fuelling this act of infidelity. This act of carnal sin you both needed. Ut unwound your bones, but had the coil in your belly cramping with each swift buck of his hips. 

You met his swift thrusts in a desperate attempt to be of use to him. Finding it hard to breathe, yet alone Your cunt spasmed delectably. Searching for a new feeling. A feeling primal and dirty as the streets of Boston. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your legs trembled while he went on, giving you something you would remember from this day forward, A sentence of being binded to him.

You were in the arms of the devil himself. St his ,ercy. Nsd nothing felt more thrilling than the pleasure that rolled at a landslide's power and pace down your spine into your core. 

Another squeeze round your throat. Another unhinged moan into his hand. He snarled, baring his teeth at you before pressing his face into the crook of your neck and biting down. Your eyes closed and painted a picture of stars. You were close to seeing angels by now and the deep ache of pleasure grappled your flesh and had goosebumps flicking up to attention over your flesh.

His chest heaved with each curl of his hips. Your exhales heavier by the second while you moaned his name like a mantra to his hand. His teeth imprinted on your back like a randhishing. A mark of the sin that was witnessed by the two of you that day. Your voice was shrill. A repeated ‘Joel! Joel! Joel!’

“Fuck, yeah, sing f’me doll. Sing f’me. Let em know who’s doin’ this to you.” He panted in vain. “Tell me.” “Feels so good–”

“Again.” He demanded. 

“Feels so good! Too good!” 

And it was. He had you burning white hot at the end of an illicit teather. You gripped his back with talons of hellbirds. Clawing at his shirt clad back. The wings of hi shoulderbales. The snake length of his spine. 

“That’s it. Tell ‘em. Tell me! Tell me in making you feel fuckin’ good.” 

“You are. Harder Joel.” His pace was like poetry. Ripped you in tow and had you displayed to him. One knee was hooked over his hunched shoulder, spine curled as his forehead pressed to yours. `The new angle had you singing like a songbird. High and melodic in tune.  Your kitten heel slipping off and clattering to the floor without a second thought. The head of his cock nipped your cervix. The lewd wet sounds of your pussy smothering him in your slick and your shared moans filled the room. Everything of you was his now. You couldn't even think of giving this up to Johnny. Yes, he fucked you dirty. But Joel fucked you like it was his sole purppose of living. Like it was what gave him life. 

You fell. You fell as soon as you hit your climax with a mewling moan that ended Joel right there and then. Coming together with heavy breaths and shaking, trembling chests. His release inside of you, strings of his come smearing you in him. Marking you for later. Well and truly ruined for any other warm body that dared to slip into your sheets. 

But falling was not the problem. Only when you hit the ground is what causes all the grief. And the look you shared once the gold haze of afterglow faded was what confirmed this. 

What have you done? How would you live without this?

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