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#now i’m sitting in my new apartment with a job
thexsilentxwordsmith · 5 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants
“You alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep, gruff voice hit your ears, pulling your out of your thoughts. 
You nodded without a sound, subtly trying to divert your gaze so that he wouldn’t look into your eyes and see all the emotion swimming inside, but at this point you really didn’t need to answer the question. The way you sit across from him with your brow furrowed into two steep peaks and your shoulders slumped forward and tight as you idly picked at the skin around your fingernails was enough of a sign. Even though you tried to dismiss him with a few muttered “I’m fine” and “It’s nothing” phrases, the man knew; whatever it was had been eating away at you for some time. 
Turning his full attention to you he took your chin into his coarse grasp and tilted your head upward until your eyes met. “Then why can’t ya even look at me?” he posed his next question. 
You let out a sigh, nowhere to run now as Simon wasn’t gonna let you back out. “It’s just…silly...” 
An incident had been on your mind for a week now, something that should have been resolved already, but try as you might to let it go it just couldn’t be shaken. A new younger female recruit had got it into her head that she wanted a piece of the huge, mysterious Lieutenant and began to flaunt that young, supple body in his direction. Simon had not allowed it to continue for even a second after that initial encounter, making sure that you knew everything in detail, and immediately she was reprimanded and reassigned, but the damage had been done to your confidence.
Were you really right for him? Were you enough? You had never really thought of yourself as ugly, but when pitted up against some pretty thing that had the freshness of young beauty on her side, you weren’t so sure if you could really compare and that made your usual abundance of self-confidence drop to nearly zero. 
Amber eyes gazed back at you as Simon waited patiently for your reply. Taking a deep, calming breath you continued. “I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you made the right choice,” you said.
“And what choice is that, hmm?” he pushed, letting you use your words even though he was sure where this was headed.
“Choosing me,” you said so softly it was barely above a whisper.
Just as he suspected, it was still bothering you and he kicked himself for not doing more before now to show you that there was no one on base or even in the whole fucking world that could compare to what he had with you. There was no one up until now that had ever kept him so tightly wound as you did that he constantly felt like he couldn't get you out of his head, that he never could get enough of you; it was a constant struggle just to keep sane so that he could do his job when he knew what would be waiting for him when he got home.
That’s why it took nothing for him to know exactly what it was that he needed to do now.
Without a word the grip on your chin was released as Simon stood to his feet. He reached down and took a hold of your hand, giving it a good, solid tug. “Come on,” he beckoned with a nod of his head to stand with him and through a bit of stubborn reluctance, you followed.
As soon as you were on your feet he pulled you into his hard, warm chest, leaning his head in close until you could feel his breath against your lips. “Of all the fuckin' mistakes I've made in my life, ya ain't one of 'em. I think someone needs a bit of extra attention, and I was a fuckin' fool waitin' till now to give it to her,” he murmured, his voice lowering into that register that always sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of ya, let me turn that brain of yours off for a bit and show ya how sure I am that I made the right choice.”
Before you could answer, his lips had already connected with your own to steal the words right out of your mouth. If there was one thing that experienced military man was superior at it was making you come apart at the seams like it was his fucking job. And boy did he take pride in his work.
But right here and now he would be even more meticulous in his affections as it was clear you needed to be reminded that you and only you were the best goddamn thing to grace his miserable existence. All of his undivided attention would be yours tonight and he would not stop until every single worry had left that pretty little head.
Promises were breathed into your mouth by him. "I'm not stoppin' until ya know just how fuckin' much I don't want anyone else besides ya."
In a flurry of lips and tangled limbs, you found your way over to the bed. Like a surgeon performing a delicate operation, he carefully removed each article of your clothing one by one, making sure that the exposed skin was immediately caressed and attended to before he moved on to the next. Every inch of skin on you would feel the passion in his embrace. By the time you hit the mattress’ surface, your body was already a tingling mess of nerve ends bursting to life in ways that made your mind numb.
The lights had been turned down low, their soft incandescent glow warm and inviting as the breathy sounds of unspoken desires from a man consumed filled the air. It was hard to think of anything as the thick tension permeated the space while you lay there naked sprawled out across the sheets with Simon at your side. Adoration was what he was after tonight, needing you to be left as nothing more than a puddle of pure bliss in the middle of his bed.
Toughened fingers traced all of those subtle imperfections lining your body with such tenderness as if each scar and blemish and indention were incredibly precious to him; his lips followed not far behind as he whispered praises into your skin. Those gentle words that were only for your ears alone as he couldn’t have people thinking he was going soft…even though he absolutely had been since the moment he got with you.
“How could ya ever think I would want anythin’ other than this, other than ya?" he breathed the question into the skin of your torso. “You're all I could ever want, all I fuckin’ think about; the best goddamn thing to ever happen to me. My pretty girl.” 
His nose nuzzled against the crook of your neck and he caught that scent: the smell of your body’s natural musk that just one whiff of could make his head fuzzy and his body tingle in a way he could not describe. All those beautifully fragrant notes that combined together to create a profile that was distinct to you so that even if he couldn’t see you he knew you were near. Closing his eyes, he breathed you in deep.
“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he purred into the warm skin of your shoulder before he was on the move, lips caressing over the swell of your breasts with nipples already stiff. “I just can’t ever get enough of ya. How could ya ever fuckin' think I'd give up all this for some young tart who'd get sick 'a me sooner rather than later? Fuck, you’re all I want, all I'll eva fuckin' need.”
Down, down, down he continued over the length of your stomach towards your thighs. It was like performing a sacred act, him giving you the full breadth of his overwhelming desire as he made his way from your lips to your legs, getting everything in between. He shot a hungry glance back up at you as he reached those pillowy creations that he loved so much.
He sighed. "Every inch of ya is like a goddamn dream."
Extra time he spent on your thighs as he embraced those voluptuous curves over and over again with his mouth, kissing and sucking, running his nose along them until you were whining and writhing beneath him. Shit, he had not even touched anywhere near your throbbing clit yet and still you could not stop the way your heart pounded out of your chest or your short, sticcatoed breathing that filled the silence. 
“Please,” the plea fell from your open mouth, but there was no need to beg. This was your night after all and he was not about to deny you of anything.
"Whatever my pretty girl wants she's gonna fuckin' get," he smiled. "Always."
Slowly Simon’s large hands spread you open just wide enough that he could lean his face into your mossy bank. More delicate kisses were dotted over your petals, his mouth embracing all around that tender slit before his tongue gently slipped inside the folds. All that doting on your body had done it’s job in stimulating so that he was met with a wetness on his tongue as he dived in. 
Shit were you sweet, like eating a peach except this one would not run out before he had gotten his fill. 
That masterful tongue drew short, concise circles around your clit, lips locking around the bud intermittently to suck, using the two techniques in tandem while his nails drug lightly over your thighs until your were bucking against his face. There was no rush in his movements; he was going to take his time in drawing out your pleasure. 
You couldn’t make a sound, your mind consumed completely with every flick of his tongue, every press of it firmly against you, every pass of his hands over your thighs; overstimulated doesn’t even begin to describe it. Eyes closed, mouth wide open, desperate music being moaned into the room was all you could muster as he brought you closer and closer to the precipice of your pleasure. 
Leisurely Simon lapped at your clit, no rush, no hurry, with measured strokes that eased you pleasantly into your orgasm instead of violently throwing you over. You came so effortlessly that you are able to ride out that wave of ecstasy for minutes as his pace stayed at that steady rhythm until there was no more left for you to give. Only then did he emerge like a man baptized anew. 
By the time he finally thrust inside you, you were a glorious mess of sweat and mewls and cum. He took you right on your back, needing to see that look in your eyes that made him feel like he was your whole world. No muscle-straining positions will he put you in tonight as all he wants is to gaze down at the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 
“Do ya think I have any doubts now?” he asked with a muted smile. "Think I could do this with just anyone?"
Your cheeks, already warm and pink, flushed bright crimson. “No,” you shook your head.
“That's a good girl,” he praised as he adjusted your legs to be comfortable around his thick torso. “Then let’s finish this off right, yeah? You and me, sweetheart.”
Slow, even thrusts he pounded into you, stretching you and filling you full even at this angle, as he met your lips again to nearly choke you on all his passion. You could taste yourself on his breath as he claimed you body and soul. 
“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, just wanna stay buried in ya all the time,” he groaned between precise thrusts through your tight, moist core. Your body was paradise and he could not get enough. Pulling back he watched the connection of your bodies right at the point where he slipped inside of you. You were so full of him there was no distinction between where he ended and you began.
Simon was never a religious man, most of the time as far from it as humanly possible, but the closest he would ever come to faith was the moment he got his first feel of all that glory that first time you two went at it. It was then that your body became his church and from then on he was more than ready to give his life to worshiping at your alter with his fingers and tongue and cock; any and all instruments at his disposal to show you his unwavering devotion. 
That man had been starved for far longer than he would like to admit, but the first time he buried himself in you that was all it took to fill him up. It was only you that he craved: your softness and warmth and light and no one else would ever do. As much as you were his, he was yours.
His hands ran up the sides of your torso, leaving burning trails that made you shiver as he palmed both of your breasts in each one of his hands to massage the flesh. “I want ya to come for me again,” he said, more need in his voice. “Can ya do that for me pretty girl?”
Rapidly you nodded your head up and down as you focused on what was coming.
“That’s it; wanna be sure my girl gets everything she needs to stay satisfied with me.”
There was a feeling of safety and security that you got when you were with him; no matter how rough or passionate the sex got, Simon was always right there with you in the moment so that you never felt that it was one sided. Right now that feeling spread through you along with the gathering warmth in your abdomen to help you get out of your head and let go. All those worries, all those fears, they left completely as he thrust inside you a few more times and you spilled over the edge once more.
He kissed you hard on the mouth, holding your raw lips together once more as he followed right after you. His shoulder shook as his released himself and fell into that high that he would never tire of- not when it was with you. As he let go of your lips, he smiled back down at you; that glow of ecstasy causing his heart to skip a beat.
“Ya see, there’s no one in this whole fuckin’ world I want more than ya, sweetheart,” he whispered into your temple before placed a quick kiss. “And I am always willin’ to show ya that you are the only girl for me.”
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adoreddestiny · 26 days
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ೃ⁀➷ WEARING HIS CLOTHING — rafayel, zayne, xavier x gn!reader
“c’mere it’s starting to rain harder,” rafayel says, huffing as he closes the door behind you. the scent of wind and rain stains your clothing as you look around his studio. he sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. his fingers soak up the raindrops before he turns to you.
though he stumbles a bit as he spots the white shirt you're wearing growing more and more sheer from the rainy weather. rafayel feels the tips of his ears and his cheeks burn before he tears his gaze away from you. "you're probably getting cold in that," he spits out, "wait here. i'll get you a change of clothes in the meantime."
you barely have time to reject his offer before he darts towards his room. he returns hastily with new shirt and a beige and red cardigan of his. any chance of your denial is shot down with his arms crossed over his chest. "just change into it," he mutters, still avoiding your gaze.
you shrug, stepping into his bathroom to slip out of your soaked shirt. the shirt fits decently but the cardigan is much larger than you realize. the sleeves cover your hands and feel like flaps. but it smells like the bothersome painter you've grown fond of.
stepping out of the bathroom, you find rafayel sitting in front of the fireplace. it seems he's changed as well but it's difficult to tell from the large blanket he's enveloped himself in. but he pauses, looking you up and down.
"what?" you laugh, "cat got your tongue?" his cheeks burn once more but he scoffs, pulling you down into his lap under the blanket. "don't you dare say that devilish name in my home," he mutters, burying his face into the crook of your neck. you smell like him now and there's a tenderness he finds himself embracing when his hold on you tightens.
“i’m home,” zayne calls out, shuffling out of his shoes. he pauses, expecting you to come rushing out from somewhere to greet him. but when nothing arrives, he feels his chest tighten. perhaps it’s a little silly to have been looking forward to your welcoming smile.
he finds himself looking around your apartment in all of your usual spots. but he doesn’t need to look too hard when he finds you in your room. you’re curled up atop a layer of laundry in deep sleep. it’s warm to the touch and the scent of linen is fresh in the air.
zayne feels the edges of his lips tug when he spots you wrapped up in a large coat he’d worn on a date with you last week. it engulfs you as you snuggle deeper into its depths.
he reaches out for you, pulling back your hair and cupping your cheek. there’s something both ravenous and adoring in his gaze as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. perhaps he’ll let you wear his clothing next time you need a little nap.
your name escapes his lips for a moment and your eyes flutter open. “z-zayne..!” you stutter out, sitting up quickly, “i didn’t realize you’d be back this early.”
“i am back on time,” he murmurs, bending down on a knee to meet your height on the bed. “i believe you are the one that lost track of time. doing the laundry, i see. did that coat give you a hard time?” the look on your face warms his heart as his arms reach under the coat to wrap around you.
"you're cold, aren't you?" xavier murmurs. a silvery autumnal breeze whirls past the two of you and another curious shiver curls down your back. xavier chuckles fondly, hand still enveloped in yours. it's likely the only thing providing you warmth save for the thin jacket you thought would do its job more properly.
"i'll be fine," you said quickly, "the apartment's just another block." your words don't exactly convince xavier. he pauses, dragging your hand back a bit to pull you into his chest. "i don't really have a use for my jacket right now anyways. how about you take it for now?" he says with a smile.
you avoid his gaze, unwilling to admit he might have been right earlier about the chilly weather. but you don't reject his offer when he slides his jacket off and wraps it around your shoulders. "there," he chuckles, "feel a little better?" you decide not to indulge a reply.
back at the apartment, you immediately float to the heater. xavier's sweater is still lovingly draped over your shoulders. his warmth remains despite everything. from the kitchen, xavier watches you wrap the sweater even tighter around you. it suits you.
a lingering smile tugs at his lips before you slide back over to him. "you can have it back now. i can grab one of my thicker jackets now," you say, though not exactly stripping it off yet. he shakes his head, tugging the sleeve slightly to pull you closer to him.
"i prefer if you keep it for now," he says with a gentle expression, "i had heard from someone that offering someone your jacket was a pleasant sign of affection." he pauses, admiring the way you're bundled tightly in his clothing. "i just wasn't sure how to bring it up..." then, he smiles knowingly. "i figured a nice walk out give me an idea."
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luveline · 2 months
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i was thinking about roommate!spencer going home after a week off working on a case and finding reader sleeping on the couch waiting for him to get home
Spencer cringes as his nails scratch the paint around the doorknob. He’s a tepid mixture of tired and sad, demotivated from another bad case, the subway home, the too many steps to the apartment. He hopes the BAU has better pay after his probation is over. He’d get a new apartment, fix up his shitty old car, maybe even get a haircut. 
For now, it’s just him, his tired feet, the threadbare couch, and you. 
You’re snoring with your face crushed to the armrest, hand tucked under your chest. You’ve started sitting and ended twisted to one side. Your back will ache when you wake up, but you’re blissfully unaware of it while you sleep. Spencer has half a mind to let you sleep undisturbed. 
He steps over your book of crosswords on the floor and the pencil waiting beside it, bending over to pat your arm. When that doesn’t rouse you, he grabs your shoulder, about to shake you awake when you sigh in your sleep, a simple, sugary sound that sends heat to his cheeks instantaneously. You’re often innocuously lovely, at least in his eyes. 
Spencer frowns and goes to make you a glass of sweet tea to wake up to. He’s secretly hoping you’ll wake up before he returns, but you’re still snoring, your face crushed, pressure on your neck. 
He wonders if you sleep on the couch often. He’s never caught you sleeping in the living room when he’s home, but this is the third time now he’s texted you that he’s coming back and walked in to find you waiting…
Are you waiting for him? 
Spencer can profile you. It doesn’t feel right, he tries not to be invasive, but he can work this out. It’s his job. 
First, the text you sent that read, Can’t wait for you to come home, I’m making chicken noodle soup for us 
Neither indicative nor exclusionary of his theory. You could mean can’t wait as the metaphor it tends to be. 
Your crossword book. Upon further inspection, he realises the pages are bent on one side, and the tent of it has landed where your hand curls toward your chest. Alright, it fell. You stayed up until you were so tired you dropped your book. 
But… you could’ve been watching TV. He turns to analyse the TV set. The standby light turns orange when it’s been left on for eight hours at a time, and you and Spencer are kind of broke, so you don’t leave anything running on purpose. You’ve never fallen asleep watching TV while he was home— 
All these reasons. 
He could just ask. He turns back to you with lips already parted, prepared to try again to wake you and slip it in casually, Shit, you weren’t waiting for me, were you? 
You’re already awake. 
Tired, you smile at him like you’re not surprised he’s kneeling at the foot of your seat. Like you’re glad he’s home. “Spencer,” you say, voice etched with the last dregs of sleep as you turn onto your side completely, giving a little wince at the stretch. 
“Hey, you okay? Why are you sleeping on the couch again?” 
You roll your eyes for what he’s not sure and reach down blindly for the crossword book by his knee, your fingertips brushing his thigh and leaving lightness in their wake. “I'm glad you’re home. Need your help, m’stuck on my puzzle.” 
“That’s what you’re sleeping here for?” 
“What?” Your eyes slip closed and then flutter open. “Mm, no, was just waiting for you to get home. How was Santa Monica?” 
Spencer has to force himself to answer around the pretzel of nerves tied in his throat, because it’s what he’d wanted, but he wasn’t ready. “It was great! I mean– I mean, it was awful, and three people died and–” He breathes in wrong. “It was fine.” 
You curl your book on the right page, blinking heavily at an unsolved row. “Oh, good. Um. Okay, ‘to carry a torch for someone’. Eight letters, not obsessed. Doesn’t fit.” 
Spencer traces the soft shudder of your lashes where they’re desperate to kiss the skin below your eye. “Besotted,” he says quietly. 
You gasp happily. “Besotted. Perfect! I missed you, genius, you always know the answer.”
He hands you your fallen pencil. “I missed you, too.” 
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toppersjeep · 1 month
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Landos Girl ~ Lando Norris X Reader
Masterlist
A/N: I got this idea while watching ginge’s and landos new video. so basically you show up to landos when he’s filming with ginge and you join in on the fun. you’ve been dating Lando for a while now. you work with him at McLaren as a pr manger. that’s how you two met!
(a little fluff, mentions of smut but no actual)
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Your POV
I opened the door to Lando’s apartment with my key. I set my bag down and took my shoes off. Knowing I’d be staying for a while.
“Lan” I said. “In the kitchen” Lando said. “Oh hello are you filming” I said. “Yeah a quadrant video I meant to text you” Lando said. “All good I had a major McLaren meeting so” I said. “No way is that the Y/N in the flesh” Ginge said. “Ginge” I said.
“Guys I’m shaking Lando’s girl in person” Ginge said I laughed. “It’s nice to officially meet you” I said shaking his hand. “Don’t worry I won’t try to take your man yet” Ginge said. “Oh you won’t even get a try” I said. “Oh shit she is a bit scary huh” Ginge said.
“So.. I’ll let you guys film then because I am not eating whatever he eats for breakfast” I said. “What she doesn’t have to eat it” Ginge said. “She should” lando said. “No thanks I had a bagel earlier” I said going to sit on the couch.
“Damn and you couldn’t bring us any the hell” Ginge said. “Ooops” I said. “She doesn’t share her food you know” Lando said. “Well that’s rude” Ginge said.
A little while later…
I got up off the couch. I then saw Lando and Ginge working out. I stood in the doorway.
“Have her try the head pull thingy” Ethan said.“I think she does that with Lando off camera” Ginge said. “Oh my god” I said laughing. “Jeez mate” Lando said. “What we know you do” Ginge said.
“What’s next” I said. “Uhh landos turn” Ethan said. “I wanna see you guys pull him I’m intrigued” I said sitting on the floor. “As long as you do it too” Lando said. “Fine” I said. Ginge went first and pulled Lando. “My god he’s not even flinching” Ginge said.
“It feels quite nice” Lando said I laughed. “Really your weird mate” Ginge said. Ethan then did it. “Come on slow and hard” Ginge said. I laughed. “Oh be quiet over there with your dirty mind” Ethan said. “I didn’t say anything yet” I said.
“Keyword is yet” Lando said. Ethan the pulled the bands back. “What the heck so you even feel that” Ethan said. “It just feels nice” Lando said. “Alright your turn” Ethan said I got up. “Come on baby” Lando said. “I have like no muscles” I said. “You got it love” Lando said. I pulled it a little bit.
“No muscles my ass” Ginge said. “That’s good” Lando said. “Okay” I said stopping. “He’s flexing his jaw muscles now” Ethan said. “That’s so hot” Ginge said we all laughed.
We then went to eat some lunch.
“This is like rabbit food” Ginge said. “I just want some pizza” I said. “Don’t start pizza sounds good” Lando said. After we finished eating we went to show Ginge and Ethan around Monaco.
“I’m getting shotgun by the way” I said. “Ughhh fine” Ginge said getting in the backseat with Ethan. “So how long have you two been dating” Ethan asked. As Lando drove.
“Uhhh like a year almost two” I said. “Met her at McLaren well I kinda knew of her before” Lando said. “Oh really” Ginge said. “I worked at Willam’s with George but I wasn’t very social” I said. “Really you not social” Ethan said.
“Ughhh I guess I was just anxious about making friends” I said. “But then I did make friends and got a new job” I said. “I guess I brought out her fun side as she says” Lando said. “That’s nice” Ethan said. “Well you two do seem perfect but I’m still jealous” Ginge said.
“He’s mine Ginge” I said. “You win you win” Ginge said jokingly. “Hope everyone is hungry” Lando said. We all ate dinner and shared stories. I sat beside Lando. “Desert was so good” Ginge said. “You two go out every night or no” Ethan asked.
“Not too often it’s quite expensive” I said. Lando then licked the plate clean. “Oh my god” Ginge said. “Damn I really wish I was that plate right now” I said. Everyone laughed. “Oh my and she says she’s shy” Ethan said. Lando just looked at me all red.
“What” I said looking at Lando. “You got him all flustered” Ginge said. “You can be the plate later” Lando said. “Oh lord” Ethan said. “Get these two love birds a room” Ginge said. “Oh I’ll get one later on” Lando said. “Lord” I said.
“You two are perfect honestly with those out of pocket things” Ginge said. “Oh I know” Lando said. After we dropped them off we went back to our apartment. I kicked my shoes off and attempted to lay on the couch.
But Lando grabbed my arm.
“You wanted to be the plate so badly” Lando said. “I still do” I said. “So come on then” Lando said leading me to our room.
____
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zombiefiilm · 3 months
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Fell in Love
spencer reid x gn!reader
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summary: you hadn't expected your friend spencer to be home from his most recent case yet, let alone passed out on your couch
warnings: confessions, kissing, fluff, no use of y/n
word count: 1.5k
The moment the key hit the lock of your front door, you practically felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You had been working all day and there was nothing you wanted more than to change into your pyjamas and watch tv for the rest of the night.
Once inside your apartment, you shut the door, instantly dropping your bag to the floor and your keys onto the table. Your shoes were kicked off and your jacket was strewn across a random chair in a matter of seconds and you were ready to run into your bedroom.
But, as you passed by the living room, you caught a glimpse of someone sleeping on your couch, shoes and coat still on.
Really, you should have been a bit more startled by the sight of someone in your home, considering you lived alone, but you were all too familiar with Spencer's habit of dropping by unannounced.
You stopped in your tracks, walking around to the front of the couch and called his name.
"Spencer" you were met with an annoyed groan as he flipped onto his other side.
"Spencer" you called again, louder, shoving his shoulder slightly. No response.
"Dr. Spencer Reid" you practically yelled right into his ear and you watched him jump this time, turning to face you again.
"I gave you a key for emergencies" you scolded, watching as he sat up and groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
"I'm sorry" he sounded overly sincere "I didn't want to go home."
Then you realised that this wasn't just his regular habit of dropping in whenever he was bored, he needed comfort. You knew all to well the toll his job took on him, with everything that’s happened to him you were surprised he was able to hold up as well as he did.
“Oh Spencer” you half-whispered, sitting down on the couch right beside him, shoulder practically pressed against his. “Do you wanna talk about it?”.
“Not really, I just need to get my mind off everything” he sat up a bit straighter, facing you now.
You nodded in response.
“Is that new?” his gaze was suddenly fixated on your wrist as he reached down to your new watch.
“It is” you told him, lifting up your arm to show off the item adorned with a silver band.
“Did you get it in a pawn shop?” he seemed to be doing a pretty good job at distracting himself now, taking interest in random things like he always did.
“How did you know?” you laughed slightly, bringing your arm back down to your side.
“It’s Cartier” he explained “I know you wouldn’t be able to afford a new one, they range from four thousand to hundreds of thousands of dollars”.
“Wow” you feigned offence.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I just know you wouldn’t spend that kind of money, even when you treat yourself” he almost panickingly explained himself but you still felt a little proud at him knowing things about you. You hated spending a lot of money on yourself and you wanted to treat yourself, hence the new item in your collection.
“Did you know that Cartier was the first healer to use platinum in jewellery making? And they popularised the wristwatch in 1904, it’s really quite interesting”
“I didn’t, Reid” you joked. “Do you want some food? I got groceries yesterday so I could make you anything you want”.
“I’m okay” he sighed slightly “I’m just tired”
“You can sleep in my bed, no reason you should be hurting your back on the couch"
"No its okay, I don't want to put you out. I'm fine out here, really."
"I'm not going planning on going to bed for a while, at least go in there and get some rest, okay?"
He simply nodded his head and got up to go to your bedroom, calling out a goodnight as he approached the door.
You spent a few hours lounging about, mindlessly watching Friends reruns to procrastinate anything that actually needed to be done. Eventually though, the tiredness caught up to you and you decided to camp out on the couch for the night.
You cracked open your bedroom door and the small amount of light that flooded in from the hall presented Spencer completely out of it in your bed, his white shirt half unbuttoned and his trousers twisted around him while the rest of his clothes were piled on the floor beside him.
You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a spare pillow and blanket from your wardrobe, preparing to set yourself up on the couch for the night.
As you went to leave the room once again, you heard him sleepily call your name.
"Yeah?" you turned around to him again, seeing him adjust himself slightly.
“Do you want the your bed back?” He began to sit up, the rustling sound of the duvet filling the air.
“You can stay there, don’t worry about it” there was a silence then, you could tell he was about to say something, but he was struggling to get it to slip past his lips.
"Could you stay with me, please" he looked away bashfully "just for a bit”. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was giving you a puppy-dog look, eyes wide and lip practically quivering.
“Of course” you dumped everything that was in your hands onto the end of the bed and crawled up beside Spencer.
Without another word, you pressed yourself up right against him, grabbing his hand with yours and smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand. Just the few moments of silence with you sitting there had done Spencer some good, he had already felt himself calming down, and some of his recent anxieties melting away.
The quiet didn’t last long though before Spencer was saying your name again. “Can I tell you something?”
You turned your head to look at him, your eyes finally adjusting to the dark so you could see all of his emotions bleeding through his expressions. You nodded your head, humming slightly to urge him on.
“I really appreciate you, a lot” he hesitated slightly, searching for the words to use next.
“I appreciate you too Spence” you requited.
“No, I’m thankful for everything you do. You have always been there when I need you, you always know exactly what to say to me, you care about me. And I truly hope you can say the same about me”
“Of course I can”
“I need you in my life more than you could ever know” he continued “you’re the most important person to me in the whole world, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You looked at him, almost flabbergasted, not knowing what to say that would truly encapsulate how much you cared about him, how happy you were that he appreciated you.
“I like you” he paused “I love you, so much” his words were powerful, they rung in the air as they travelled towards your ears.
“Love?” you repeated, questioning his use of the word. You were no stranger to platonic love but his previous confessions had you questioning the intention of his last sentence.
“I love you, I want to be able to call you mine. I want to come home to you every day, to spend every minute I can with you, to have a future where you’re the centre of all my plans.”
You were practically stumped, the emotions you were feeling rendering your mouth useless.
“If you don’t feel the same way-“ he suddenly became incredibly panicked, spitting out as many words as he could to explain himself before you could cut him off.
“Spencer” you took a deep breathe “I love you too” it was a much shorter confession than his, but you didn’t need to say anything more to him, the confirmation was all he needed.
In the time it took you to blink, your faces were centimetres apart. And then his lips were on yours.
Your body felt like it lit up on that moment, the feeling of his lips on yours waking the butterflies in your stomach. You wasted no time tangling your fingers into his hair and lightly tugging at the roots as his hands slid around your waist, softly massaging your flesh.
It was gentle, his tongue softly slipping into your mouth as you let him do what he wanted, let him take the control.
The kiss was short though, as sleep had began to take over both of you. You mutually pulled away, silently agreeing to lie down, cuddling into one another.
With one more peck on the lips, you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.
There was plenty of time to talk it out, to figure out everything between each other, but for now all you needed was the feeling of one another pressed together and the feeling of mutual admiration.
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deadmanscalling · 24 days
Text
Yandere Rabbit-Hybrid
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gn!reader
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who would always bother his sweet neighbor with a bright, innocent smile despite the fact that his clothes were drenched in fresh blood and dripped everywhere he went.
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who knew that you couldn’t say no because you were terrified that it was going to be your blood next on his clothes. His smile became even wider every time you allowed him inside with a scared smile and your eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill.
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid whose hands would linger a little too long on your body and keeps you pressed too close for your liking to his body, sweetly whispering into your ear asking you When are we going to finally fuck like rabbits?
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who loved it when you looked at him with your tearful eyes and quivering lips, begging him p-please no, I’m not- I’m not ready! You had no idea how turned on it made him whenever you looked at him like that. You were too distracted pleading with him to not take your virginity to notice the raging hard-on he had.
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who gives you a patronizing laugh and smile saying just kidding! How could I do that to my sweet bunny, hm? You think that badly of me, baby?
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who’s a loan shark and your father borrowed had a lot of money from him. When your father died from an accident, he went after the dead man’s offspring - you. Once he realized that the two of you lived in the same apartment building, with you being a floor under him, he thought it was fucking hilarious how the world seemed to hate you so much. 
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who always thought you were something cute for a human before he even you were the dead bastard's kid, but you were always running away from him one way or another. No matter how kind and generous he made himself, you were always cautious of the young rabbit-hybrid as if you could sense the snake that hid inside him. And when he appeared in front of your door with other hybrids one day with a damn smile on his face and several bigger hybrids behind, you realized that you were right all along. 
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who decided you could pay back your father’s debt in other ways. You couldn’t pay him back that kind of money. Especially not with the type of shithole you lived in and your dead-end job. Gotta have some mercy for the sad, little human, right? He reminds you. Don’t worry, you weren’t going to pay him with sex (not yet at least) despite how much he teased you with the idea. 
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who made you his new partner, or in other terms - his plaything. Other than bloody house visits and unwanted touches, he would often plan dates with you and give you gifts whenever he decided to award you for good behavior. He even awarded you with a new apartment in a better neighborhood and a life free from your terrible job.
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who introduced you to his other, willing, partners - four different other hybrids who were even more terrifying and twisted as the rabbit-hybrid. You tried your best to blend in the wall and stay quiet, but they decided it was a great idea to take turns with you sitting on their laps, squeezing your thighs and nipping at your skin whenever you didn't answer their questions.
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who became stupidly in love with you and he wasn’t going to ever let you go, debt paid or not. At first, the whole 'partner' thing was a joke to him. A temporary (sick) crush he had on a human who was unfortunate enough to be related to a worthless father. He figured that after he was done playing around with you, he was going to throw you away and make you pay your father’s debts no matter how much you begged him to stop.
Yandere!rabbit-hybrid who slowly prepared a permanent home for him and all of his partners (including you) could stay at. The hybrids have been talking about living together for months now but there was always something else going on that delayed the process, but now they felt ready to start. You weren't going to be happy with the news - there's only so much you could take with the rabbit-hybrid's antics, but he and the others were prepared for your inevitable tantrums and disobedience. You were going to be his for a very long time, after all.
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targaryenluvs · 3 months
Text
— BEST LIFE
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pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)
summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?
warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey
wordcount: 1.7k
a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋
when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.
what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.
“you’re sitting here,”
“uh-huh.”
“telling me,”
“yup.”
“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”
you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.
“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”
your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.
“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”
“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”
“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”
“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”
“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”
“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”
your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.
derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.
“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.
what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.
penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”
and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.
you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.
“and how much would he loose?”
“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”
“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”
reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.
“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?
spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.
“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”
spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”
spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.
as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?
“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.
“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”
lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.
his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.
right now, you were living your best life.
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hopesworlld · 22 days
Text
౨ৎ i want you to cry, cry for me
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౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — jealous!anakin x fem!reader
౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — anakin's jealousy gets the best of him once again and you have no choice but to punish him
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 2k
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, toxic!ani, smut ( sub!ani, degradation, reader calling ani a slut, hair pulling, ani crying for 90% of the fic, cock stepping, nipple play, biting, bondage, begging, dry humping, hand jobs, edging, dacryphilia, oral f receiving, face sitting, cuming untouched, panties as a gag, overstilmulation, face slapping, cock slapping, cum as lube ) holy fuck that's a lot
౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — i never usually write subby male characters so i had some fun with this, hope you enjoy !
part one part two masterlist
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“you are in so much trouble,” you spat the moment you enter your and anakin’s shared apartment, anakin trailed behind you, head cast downwards, “seriously, anakin, i talk to my coworker for two seconds and you come over throwing a hissy fit? try grabbing my ass in front of my boss and his husband?” you growled and anakin whimpered, wrapping his arms around himself, “what do you have to say for yourself?” you demanded. 
“i’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice thick but he refused to look up, eyes remaining fixed on his shoes, a frustrated groan fell from your lips as you walked over to him, grabbing his hair and yanking his head up to face you, his pretty blue eyes were glassy, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto his white shirt, glasses hazy from condensation. he hissed at the sensation of his hair being pulled, lips trembling. 
“i’m so sorry,” you imitated with a scowl and anakin let out a sob, “that’s all you have to say?” you questioned, “god, anakin, you are fucking pathetic,” you tell him, letting go of his hair and storming through the apartment. still, anakin is quick to follow you, stumbling over his own feet as you walk into the living room, tossing your coat and bag down, massaging your temples. 
“no, no,” anakin cried, “please, i mean it, i didn’t want to upset you,” he told you, “i was just, he was so close to you and…” 
“oh my god,” you screamed, whirling around to face him and anakin looked stricken, not expecting your outburst and more sobs came tumbling from his lips, he brought his hands up, wiping away the sticky tear tracks but they were quickly replaced with new ones. “we shook hands, that was it, and you come over acting like a bitch in heat,” you grind out, “do you want to embarrass me in front of everyone? is that your goal, want to make me look stupid with my boyfriend who can’t control his needy cock?” 
“that’s not it!” anakin cried, dropping onto his knees before you and wrapping his arms around your legs, clinging to you desperately, “please, i’ll be good, don’t leave me,” he begged, burying his face into your thigh. 
“you haven’t been a very good boy though have you, ani?” you asked him coldly, “i warned you, and you promised you would stop, why did you lie to me, huh? speak up, angel,” anakin’s head snapped back, eyes wide and lips parted, his tongue darted out wetting his lips as he took a shuddering breath. 
“i… um… i, i didn’t…” words seemed to escape him, his pupils blown wide beneath his glasses, his mouth opened and closed multiple times, only gasps escaping. 
“what got nothing to say now? that’s a shame, baby boy, guess i’m just gonna have to punish you,” you shrugged, leaning down and grasping his shoulders pushing him off of you, anakin hadn’t been expecting this, his body falling backward and colliding with the floor with a thud while you watched in disinterest. “pathetic,” you said with a roll of your eyes before your gaze fell, seeing the bulge in his slacks, a small laugh escaped your lips, “are you hard right now?” you asked him with wide eyes, “are you serious?” you giggled and anakin whined, crimson staining his sticky cheeks. 
“god you are such a slut, getting off on me telling you off,” you said, stepping closer and placing your foot on his chest, holding him in place. 
“didn’t… didn’t mean to,” anakin hiccuped, but he looked up at you with that look in his eyes, so full of desperation and longing.
“what did i say about lying, angel?” you asked him sternly, cocking a sharp brown. 
“no, no, i really didn’t mean it you just look so pretty when you’re angry, and you called me… called me a slut and i, i couldn’t help it,” he babbled head shaking frantically. 
“i forgot you were such a whore for degradation, gets your cock all excited even when you’re in trouble,” you scoffed, “do you think you deserve to cum after how you acted, ani?” you asked him with a raised brow. 
“yes, yes, wanna make you feel good, let me come, let me fuck you,” he begged from where he lay on the floor, you pursed your lips, slowly dragging your foot down anakin’s chest, tracing along the plains of his ab’s before finally reaching his crotch, pressing down lightly on the bulge there, anakin gasped, rocking his hips upwards. 
“stop,” you told him harshly, pressing down harder and anakin cried out. “you fucking like this? you like me stepping on your cock, god, ani,” you said, watching as he writhed beneath you. 
“i’m sorry,” anakin cried out, hands coming up and clutching the carpet, his face was still flushed and tears continued to flow, you decided to have mercy on him, pressing your foot down one more time making him screech before pulling back. 
“get up,” you commanded him, anakin scrambled upwards, stumbling slightly as he rose on shaky legs, almost falling into you but you grabbed his shoulders, “good boy,” you cooed and anakin’s face lit up. “now go into the bedroom and get on the bed,” you told him and he indeed quickly, rushing from the room. you followed him, watching as he kicked his shoes off and tumbled onto the bed. you climbed onto the bed after him, straddling his hips. 
“baby?” anakin whispered. 
“hush, now,” you told him, hands coming up and trailing over his shirt-clad chest, hovering over his nipples and tweaking them slightly, grinning when anakin whimpered. you carried on, pinching harder, rolling the nubs between your fingertips, anakin’s mouth fell agape, his hands coming up to grasp your hips. “did i say you could touch?” you asked him with a raised brow. 
“i… no but i,” you didn’t listen to his excuses, simply shaking your head, moving to untie his tie, unlooping it from around his neck. 
“keep thinking you are gonna be a good boy and then you just don’t listen,” you sighed sadly, “guess you can’t be trusted right now,” you tell him, grabbing his arms and pulling them up so they are above his head, you then loop his tie around them before securing them to the headboard. “that’s better,” you said with a satisfied smile, leaning back on your heels. 
“oh…” anakin said, titling his head to look at his now secured hands, he pulled his arms slightly but they remained in their holding, when he turned back to face you, his pupils were completely blown, you could hardly see his irises beneath the darkness. you then began to unbutton his shirt, leaving it open so that you could see his nipples, they were hard and rosy making you smile, leaning down and captured one between your teeth and bit down, anakin hissed. “fuck, baby, what…” 
“shh,” you crooned as you switched to his other nipple giving it the same treatment before pulling away satisfied. you took your own clothes off, tugging your top over your head and unclasping your bra, then shimmying your skirt down your hips leaving you in only your panties, anakin leaned up, trying to hold you but his arms jolted against the restraints, he looked up at you with large pleading eyes. “you really think that's gonna work on me, angel?” you asked him. 
“just wanna feel you,” he pleaded but you shook your head. 
“you don’t deserve to touch me, been so naughty today, anakin,” you scolded, dragging your hips along his groin, “wanna tell me why?”
“i’m… i,” he tried to say but his voice fell short. 
“tell me,” you pressed, rocking harder against him, hand coming up to his throat, holding it tightly, forcing him to look at you. 
“i… i embarrassed you in front of your boss,” he gasped out. 
“and,” you continued with a nod of your head. 
“and, i lied, didn’t listen to you, i… i got turned on when you were telling me off, please, i’m sorry, fuck,” he begged, rocking his hips. 
“good boy,” you smiled, releasing his neck and patting his cheek. you climbed off of him and unbuckled his belt before tugging his slacks down, his cock sprang free, bright red and weeping as it lay against his stomach. “oh, angel, looks sore,” you cooed, reaching out and stroking it gently, circling your thumb around the tip. 
“yes, yes,” anakin gasped. 
“feel good?” you asked him sweetly. 
“so good,” anakin nodded, and you smiled, jerking your hand up and down, using his precum as lube, he sighed in relief, head falling back against the pillow, and you giggled, continuing to play with his cock until he was squirming and crying, crystalline tears dripping down his cheeks. you felt him pulsing in your hand, so you pulled away and stared at him, waiting for him to react. 
“what?” he gaped, “no, please, i was so close,” he sobbed. 
“poor baby,” you snickered, “but you don’t get to come yet,” you shrugged, “haven’t proved how sorry you are have you, darling,” 
“what can i do? please, i’ll do anything,” he pleaded with you, sitting up against his restraints, his shoulders tensing, muscles rippling, you bit down on your lip appreciatively, you could feel the wetness staining your panties and an idea sprung in your mind so you tugged your panties down and dropped them on the bed.
“lay back,” you instructed, grabbing his shoulders and guiding him back down, crawling up his body and balancing over his chest, “you are gonna eat me out, okay?” you prompted and anakin nodded eagerly and you were balancing over his face, core pressing against anakin’s plush lips. instantly anakin dove in, burying his face against your sopping head, tongue burying into your gummy walls. he was relentless, slick dripping down his chin as he consumed you. “yes, angel,” you gasped, hands gripping the headboard as you sank deeper onto him, thighs pressing around his face, holding him in place. you could feel his arms pressing against you, but he couldn’t use them to hold your hips as he loved to, instead, you were fully in control. 
“so good,” you murmured, rocking your hips against his mouth, sinking into the feeling of his tongue inside of you, trailing up your slit, and suckling on your clit. anakin whimpered against your core sending vibrations through you. “fuck,” you gasped, “i’m gonna cum soon,” you say, grinding harder against anakin’s mouth, your words seemed to prompt him to burry deeper inside of you, tongue probing at your walls, curling upwards against you, your head fell backwards as you drew closer. “yes, yes, oh my god,” you screamed as you came all over anakin’s face, chest heaving as you came around and pulled back only to meet anakin’s guilty look. 
“what?” you say curiously, turning around and seeing anakin’s spent cock laying against his stomach, streams of sticky white cum staining his stomach. “anakin?” you asked him lowly. 
“i’m sorry!” anakin sobbed, “i couldn’t help it,” you shook your head at him, settling on his chest. 
“can’t do anything right,” you spat, raising your hand and slapping his harshly, he whined at the sensation, looking at you with wide eyes. “i tell you, you can’t cum yet and you do it while i’m not looking, fucking pathetic,” you slap him again and this time anakin moaned. “shut up, i don’t wanna hear you,” you hissed, “you know what, i’m not giving you a choice,” you tell him, grabbing your panties from the bed and shoving them in his mouth, he choked slightly around the fabric but other than that he stayed silent, simply watching you. you moved down the bed so that you were between his legs, grasping his cock and holding it tightly, his whimper came out muffled as you let it drop down into his stomach, already chubbing up once again. 
“getting hard already, angel?” you asked, landing a slap on his cock, the scream he let out ripped through his gag and you smirked, “hurt?” you asked him curiously and he nodded furiously, tears leaking down his face and onto his neck, nose running as he kicked his legs helplessly. “that’s a shame isn’t it,” you said, slowly beginning to pump his cock, once he was fully hard you stopped and slapped him once again. anakin babbled against the panties in his mouth, begging, pleading maybe, you weren’t sure as you slapped him once again, watching as a small burst of cum spurted from his tip. you rose your brow at him and he shook his head quickly, drool dripping down the side of his mouth. 
“good boy,” you murmured, looking at his cock still straining harshly, “stay like this for me okay, angel,” you said before standing up from the bed and heading to the door, “i’ll be back later,” you hummed, leaving anakin alone in the bedroom voice muffled by your panties, hands tied to the headboard and cock throbbing and weeping as he waited for you to return.
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this shit was wild lmao
tags: @johnbassplayercutie @st4rfckerz @titaniasfairy
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mysicklove · 6 months
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆
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DAY 19: PROSTATE MASSAGE
With: Nagi Seishiro
Word Count: 2.0k
Warnings: Sub! nagi, gn! reader, anal fingering, twitching, hand job, crying and drool
A/N: This is my first Kinktober fic i completed!!! lowkey hate it, and def need to make them shorter but...enjoy?
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Nagi, for what it's worth, is a pillow prince. But of course, you could have assumed this a first glance. He doesn't expect much in bed and doesn't do much either. He liked receiving pleasure but didn’t like the tedious work to gain it.
But the arrangement worked out well for you guys. You love watching his pretty face contort from pleasure and the way he grips onto you with each upcoming orgasm. And besides, putting in the work was the fun of it all.
He has heard the lines, "Just sit there, and look pretty." so many times now that they seem now slightly turn him on. Whenever he hears them he prepares himself for unimaginable pleasure. To sit back, relax, and let you take care of him.
He also didn't mind trying new things; he was bolder than most and was easily persuaded with kisses down his neck. As long as he didn't have to do much, he was completely fine with it.
Today the two of you were trying a prostate massage.
You brought it up to him a couple of days earlier, and for the next couple of days, he watched an unfathomable amount of porn on it. He decided that he can lay on his stomach, and wouldn't have to do a thing. So the idea didn't sound too bad.
He has never tried anal play. It wasn't like he didn't want to, but it takes so much effort for the prepping and the cleaning. It seemed to be a bore, and besides he was content slumping against your chest as you jerked him off. So, this was a whole new world to him.
True to his word he lays on his stomach, clutching a little nervously at the sheets as his head lays on the pillow in front of you. You've lifted his hip so that he has to balance on his knees (he of course whined, not wanting to hold some of his weight). It gave you the perfect view of his ass and made it easier to plunge your fingers into him.
You sit cross-legged on the headboard with his legs on either side of you. In front of you is his ass, slightly trembling from what you could guess nerves. You rub at it, gently kneading the pale flesh. “It's alright, we are going to go slow Seish.”
You grab the lube when he slightly nods, gulping, but trusting you. Slowly, you drip some on your fingers and the rest on the actual source itself. He flinches at the coolness and you smile fondly at him, trying to hold back a coo from how cute he is.
You move slightly forward, and grab one of his cheeks, pulling it apart to give yourself a better view. When your eyes travel to hit the pink hole, you gulp and grab the other cheek to really show the whole thing.
He lets out a small whine at the movement and he buries his face into the pillow. "It's embarrassing."
You ignore him and release one to slightly drag your fingers across his hole. He slightly jumps and your eyes lighten. "Oh Seishiro you're so cute. I'm going to have so much fun with you."
He doesn’t say anything, but unconsciously he pushes his hips slightly backward at the praise. “I’m putting one in,” You say, trying to break the intense stare at his hole that was now clenching and unclenching around nothing.
He nods, and you slowly press your finger into the now slippery enterance. You stare as your finger slowly begins to disappear and take notice to how warm he is. It almost makes you shiver, and you have to hold back your teasing.
You continue forward as he continues to whine and gasp until you are knuckle deep. You feel around, and he jumps, moaning into the pillow beneath him.
Then you bring your other finger up, and begin to prod at the room next to you finger. "Just one more, yeah?"
"Mhmmm."
You take that as a yes and slightly push the next one in. His thighs twitch, and it's noticeably harder to press in. "So tight," You coo, using your other hand to gently slap his thigh in approval.
"S-Shut up. I've never done this before."
"I would hope so. I wouldn't want you presenting your ass for anyone else."
You force the finger in, and he keens, gripping the pillow. You giggle and continue forward, until like your other finger, buried completely inside him. "Alright let's try to find it." You mumble, curling your fingers inside him.
He cranes his neck to look back at you, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Find whaaaahhh!”
His eyes slightly roll back, and he bites onto the pillow at the sudden intense pleasure he has never felt before. “Well that was easy. We are trying to stimulate your prostate, remember? Don’t tell me you’re fucked dumb ready?”
Your fingers continue to curl and rub over the spot, and the poor boy is now leaking on the bedsheet. He tries to ignore it and instead focuses on the strange pleasure that rocks his entire body. “I-I knew that…Just is that it?”
In response, you press down on the gland, and his eyes widen. His legs collapse in on themselves, and you have to forcibly lift him back up. You watch with a grin at the way his legs tremble and struggle to stay put, twitching in front of you. “Think so. From the way you are reacting.”
His hips are pressed upward, and his back is arched all pretty for you as if this is what he was meant to do. But, he shakes his head in denial. "It f-feels weird."
He moans into the sheets and begins to slowly press back into your fingers, making you slightly giggle. “Weird? Or maybe good?”
“Don’t know!” His mouth is open, and he’s panting into the pillow, and with every drag of your fingers, he seems to forget how to breathe. Holding his breath as he tries to process the pleasure he has never felt before. 
You switch movements to sliding in and out of his hole. His body jerks at this, as he feels your fingers prod in full force at his prostate. More precum drips out of his cock, and he’s rocking back and forth, confused about what he wants. Was it too much or too little?
He seems to be withering under you, and it was adorable. You’ve never seen him like this. He was usually pretty composed. You’ve seen him drool and cry, but never have you seen his body move so sporadically from the intense pleasure.
He starts to cry, slightly scared of how much control this gland has over him. But he can’t seem to hate how his legs tremble and his fists clench unintentionally. It feels so good.  He wants more, even if it causes him to break.
The bed frame begins to creak from his frantic movements, and he starts to drool. Everything about this was so endearing. Usually, he laid limp against your chest while your stroke him off and only moved ever so slightly with his orgasm. This is what you wanted to see. Withering completely, eyes wide and confused on the intense pleasure. He was the prettiest like this.
"You’re so cute, Seishiro. Look at how active you are today!"
He lets out a small whimper and clutches harder onto the pillow. You've started to move your finger quicker, and he can't keep up with the ruthless pace. He was growing dizzy and confused. "Not trying to. My body keeps moving and I don't know why!"
Your eyes widen, and blood rushes to your crotch from his words. Your hand finds his cock, and as a reward, you begin stroking him off. “S-Shit,” He mumbles into the pillow when he hears the lewd squelching sound of your hand and his leaking cock.
His hips now rock forward into your hand, and then backward into your fingers. The twitching has stopped, and by now you’ve had to pick up his hips multiple times because he kept crumbling on himself. You couldn’t even tease him about it, you knew he was trying to not escape the pleasure. It was just making his legs weak and the thought sent your own head spinning.
“Do you want to cum from your ass Seishiro?” His cheek is now smushed into the pillow, tears and drool dripping down and onto the white pillow. His hands are interchanging between clenching and falling limp on the sheets. He doesn’t know what to do. He feels powerless under your hold.
“Wanna. Wanna,” He mumbles, as his hips begin to crumble again. His eyes are hazy, and he must have fallen deep into the subspace now. You don’t mind, but his legs continue to give out. You pick them back up before he collapses on the bed, sending a light smack to his ass in a teasing warning. The poor thing hisses but holds his ground on the bed even with the trembling of his legs.
He then slightly whines without the hand on his cock and you roll your eyes with a smile. Then, you add some more lube and continue your frantic movements. His back arches deeper, and moans fall with every breath. 
You hum, and continue your antics, silently laughing at how composed you are contrasting his twitching form. His mouth tries to form words, but he can’t because with every press of your finger, his mind goes blank.
You press a kiss to the smooth flesh, and mumble into it, “I want you to cum for me.”
His hands grip at the sheets and he gulps, feeling his orgasm build up. It’s different this time, it feels so much stronger, and he’s nervous about how he is going to react. But you are soothing him, kissing him, and cooing at him. If its too much, you’ll be there with him to coax him through it. You have to be.
He cums, harder than he has before. He was right, it was different, his whole body tightens and contracts. He can feel himself even tighten around your finger, and tries to ignore the way you hum in approval at the warm, hugging feeling.
His legs finally do collapse on himself, and this time you don’t bother to pull him up. He’s shaking, from the way his toes curl, to the tips of his fingers that grip onto the sheets above him. Tears pull at his eyes, and he has let out more cum than he is used to. The liquid stains the sheets and is trapped between his stomach and the bedding. 
He doesn’t speak. Instead, he silently screams into the pillow, and lets the tears drip down his face. His legs move forward and back, and his hands twitch. It was cute seeing how little control he has over his own body. And just from a couple of touches from his prostate? He was in heaven. 
He loves it. He loves it so much. How hasn’t he experienced an anal orgasm? He wants more of this.
He comes down from his high, and you smile at him. You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, hoping to help soothe him from how intense it was. He’s still gasping, when he finally comes down, and you pet his hair through it all.
You reach for the washcloth next to you, knowing the white-haired boy well enough by now. He was always done by the first round, and nothing could persuade him. 
But, much to your surprise, he grips at your wrists before you could grab at it. He looks at you, an unfamiliar lazy smile pulling at his lips. “Again?”
You grin, sending a harsh smack to his cheeks, which causes him to jump. “Glady.”
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flemingsfreckles · 23 days
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Physio’s Daughter pt.2
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Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader
Preview: read Part 1, you continue to work with the Canadian team and your partnership with Jessie develops
Warning: some cursing I think, very very very minimal suggestion to sex
WC: 3.8k
A/N: this might be my new favorite story I’m writing (sorry all you Better Boyfriend fans)
The next week had gone by in a flash. Mark had called you, telling you the same things that your mom already had. He wanted to extend an offer to you to join the team, working as a student, for the summer and through the Olympics. He also mentioned that Jessie had spoken highly of you directly to him. Knowing how impressive having experience working for Team Canada would look to future jobs, you couldn’t turn down the offer.
Upon accepting you had started working everyday at the training facility, sometimes carpooling with your mom, picking her up from your childhood home and other days she would swing by your apartment and pick you up. Other days when she would have meetings or individual appointments you weren’t invited to, you’d drive separately.
On your first day Mark had sat you down in his office and asked you about your experience and what you were hoping to gain from your summer. You told him the more you could do the better, whatever he thought would be the best.
You honestly didn’t care too much about the jobs they gave you, as a student you expected to do the simple, more mundane work, making ice bags, organizing closets, restocking first aid kits. You expected to be more of an observer, stepping in only if extra hands were needed.
However much to your surprise, Mark had decided the opposite for you. After your meeting he had asked you to sit tight as he walked out and into the dressing room. He came back with a half dressed captain, Jessie only wearing her training shorts and actively throwing on a sweatshirt as she followed Mark back into the office.
“Oh, you’re back!” Jessie exclaimed when saw you sitting in Mark's office.
“She is.” Before you can answer for yourself Mark steps in. “And I want you two to work together. For one, Jessie we need to have your calf back to 100% before Paris, on top of that as captain, you need to be in the loop as far as what is going on with your teammates. That’s where you two are going to mingle.” His finger points between you and Jessie before he turns his attention to you.
“I want you to be fully responsible for working with Jessie on her calf. I think that will be a better use of your time, instead of throwing you 50 small tasks, take on one large one, do it right. Obviously if you need guidance, the rest of the team is here but I want you to take as much of the lead on it as possible.”
“Understood, I can do that.”
He turns to face Jessie. “Assuming you’re okay with that? You know your own body, if you have concerns or questions about her treatment plan, ask. She’s a student, we don’t expect her to be perfect, you’ll help her. I’m not making you a Guinea pig, you’re not a test subject, more of a learning experience. I mean that in the best way possible.”
“Of course, I feel good about that.” You feel relieved as Jessie agrees to his plan, you hadn’t had much time for the nerves around the responsibility of this job to build up too much but there were some doubts starting.
“As far as the stuff beyond your calf. I want Jessie to get updates on teammate’s, not details but just general ideas of who’s having more fatigue, who needs to be watched, any of those things that as captain she should know, you need to be informing her.” He’s now back looking at you.
“Yes sir, I can do that.”
“Perfect, then you’re both free to go.” He claps his hands together and then motions toward the door.
Jessie is the first one out, she holds the door open for you as you follow her into the main physio room. The rest of the room is empty, today was just a film and media day, most of the players not coming in for any treatments. The physio staff had found themselves elsewhere in the building. Behind you, your boss leaves his office, locking the door before tossing a pair of keys in your direction. He tells you it’s they keys to get in the building and the master key for anything in the training room, in the event you’re here before anyone else. You thank him and watch as he leaves, leaving you and Jessie alone.
You watch as Jessie wanders over to one of the tables, turning and with what seems like ease, pushing herself up and onto the table with her arms. She flops back laying fully down on the table and you can’t help but notice when she puts her arms behind her head her sweatshirt rides up, exposing the lower bit of her abdomen. Catching yourself staring for a second too long you turn away and walk over to the end of the table where her head was.
She has her eyes closed, hands resting behind her head, she looks peaceful. She must have been able to hear you move by her, she opens one eye, looking in your direction.
“Somehow, media day tires me out more than anything.” She goes back to having both eyes closed.
“Because you hate it.” You answer, you’re not sure if she was even asking for a reason but the silence felt uncomfortable and you wanted to fill it. Her eyes both open and she turns her head to look at you. Her eyebrows are pinched slightly as if she’s confused by your statement.
“You hate being in front of the camera right? You probably work yourself up over it, whether you know it or not. It’s probably more stressful on you mentally than playing is.”
“Wow no one told me you were going to school to be an emotional therapist too.” You can practically feel sarcasm dripping off her sentence. She rolls her eyes at you and for a second you feel like an idiot, she obviously knew she hated being in front of the camera, you didn’t need to tell her.
Jessie moves to flip over, propping her head up on her hands. Her smile is big across her face. She reaches an arm out and swats at you, hitting just above your thigh that was at her eye level as you stood at the end of the bed.
“I’m joking, loosen up. If you stay this nervous all summer you’re going to hate it here.”
You knew she was right, being uptight was not going to make anything easier or any part of coming to work fun. But knowing she was right and actually trying to lessen your nerves were two different things.
It took time but by the end of your second week you were feeling more comfortable, slightly confident in the choices you were making, you felt familiar with the staff and all the players, it was becoming more fun.
You and Jessie had fallen into an easy routine. You’d both get to the training facility earlier than everyone, you’d both sit down in your makeshift office and go through paperwork. You’d take the time to run her through each of her teammates, giving her the information that Mark had requested she get as captain. Sometimes there were only a handful of updates to give her and the two of you would end up sitting around chatting.
When her teammates began to arrive you’d make your way into the training room, Jessie would get changed and come back to start treatment on her leg. You’d run her through exercises, stretches, regimes for icing, all the necessary recovery steps for her leg. You’d still run around, occasionally helping the rest of the players, taping, rolling, massaging, but you always came back to check on Jessie. You didn’t think much of it, the time you were spending together, if anything it was more of a requirement for the two of you to spend time together, not a choice.
During training Jessie would check in during water breaks, you weren’t sure that was required but she always found her way over to you, chatting for a minute, usually starting with an update on how she was playing but sometimes just telling you other information, what she had for dinner, the color of the puppy she saw on her way in, small details about her life, before she’d have to go back out.
The more you talked with her the more your silly little young school girl crush came back. Only by this time it was full force attraction, more than just a crush. You were confused how everyone who talked with her wasn’t in love with her. She was kind. It was a simple way to describe her and definitely didn’t do her justice but she was, at the end of the day she was kind and good natured and it drove you crazy.
She was always quick to help you find something in the training room, quick to offer you an extra jacket if she saw you were cold watching training, first one to offer to carry any equipment to and from the field. It was her small gestures that stood out so much.
After training you had a similar routine, helping her, and other players with their recovery. Talking with Jessie about her calf, offering various treatment options to her and letting her guide you. You’d finish your treatment with her and unlike most players who would hurry out of the training room in a rush to get home, she’d stay around talking, offering to help clean or just sitting around. She’d stay until most of the staff had begun to go home and Mark would usually tell her to get out.
It wasn’t long before others took notice of the partnership the two of you had developed.
After a late night at the facility, your Mom began poking at the subject on the ride home.
“How’s it going with Jessie?”
“She’s good, calf is still giving her tightness but it’s less frequent than before, I think she’ll be playing full 90’ before the end of camp.” You think nothing of her question, assuming she’s asking about how her recovery is coming along given the Olympics were coming up quickly.
“She sure does hang around you a lot.” You start to hear the accusatory tone in her voice.
“She’s required to, Mark told both of us we have to work together.”
“I’m pretty sure staying late everyday, to do nothing but sit around with you, wasn’t in the requirements, or the extra chats during water breaks.” She looks over at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Usually she’s giving me updates on her leg.” Defending her behavior to your Mom, it wasn’t really your fault Jessie came over to talk during practice.
“Don’t lie to me, you two were talking about the new pasta place down the road today.”
You don’t say anything back to her, just staring as she glances between the road and back to you.
“Look, I’m saying this as someone superior to you at work, I just think you need to be careful. This is a job, you’re responsible for her health. You can’t be messing around, she’s a coworker. You don’t want to appear unprofessional.”
As if her scolding wasn't enough, she adds, “As your mom, I have to say, she’s 4 years older than you. She’s as close to 30 as you are 18. You’re still a student, she has her career figured out, you’re only just starting yours. Not to mention it’s usually not a good idea to sleep with someone you work with, it makes things complicated.”
“Mom! I’m not sleeping with her.” Your voice is raised, and you feel your cheeks start to burn at your Mom’s suggestion. It’s a mix of anger and embarrassment, mainly from the fact that she would accuse you of sleeping with Jessie, that’s not fair to you or to her.
This is what you hated about working with your Mom, she would still be your Mom at the end of the day. You knew she kept a close eye on you, closer than Mark, closer than any of the other staff, she watched you like a hawk, all day everyday.
“There’s nothing going on.” You add, “She has no interest, it’s work for both of us.” You were thankful when your mom pulled into the driveway to your apartment complex.
“Just take a second to consider what other people might think. You don’t need to have a bad reputation this early in your career because of a fling.” The way she was talking to you felt like you were back in high school and she had caught you sneaking beers to take to a friend's house. It was a voice of concern mixed with a hint of disappointment.
“I already told you, nothing is happening. I don’t need a ride tomorrow, I can take myself.” You tell your mom as you exit the car, closing the door behind you a bit harder than you should.
When you get inside you let your bag hit the ground hard. Frustration from your mom’s comments is still running through your veins. You move to the kitchen, grabbing leftovers out of the fridge and throwing them in the microwave for a minute.
As you eat you think about work, you had to meet with Jessie tomorrow morning but you decide after that you were going to prove to your mom there was nothing going on. You were going to distance yourself, give Jessie the same treatment as everyone else.
That’s what you do, for the next few days you still meet with Jessie in the morning, giving her updates but kicking her out of the office once your professional talks are over. Jessie seemed a bit confused the first few days as you pulled away more and more from her but she never mentioned it to you. You’d finish her recovery treatments and then head into your office which was more of a closet made into a temporary office. You would claim you had paperwork to do and then end up just staring at the blank computer in front of you, wishing you could be having a mindless conversation with her about dogs or bikes or travel spots. Jessie had numerous stories from traveling with Chelsea that you loved hearing about, with every story she told you, you added a travel destination to your bucket list.
You kept up with distancing yourself, somewhat grateful that the international window was coming to a close while you still would have to go to work, Jessie wouldn’t be there forcing you to avoid her.
It was the second to last day of the international window and you were getting started on morning treatments before the friendly match the team had later that afternoon. You had given Jessie her heat pack, not sticking around to talk with her but moving over to where Janine was sitting on the table chatting with some of the other girls.
“Waiting to get your knee taped?” You ask, offering to do it for her.
“Yeah that would be great.” You move to grab tape and adhesive spray. You zone out of the conversations being had around you as you get to work, you’d see how Janine’s knee was taped everyday so it was an easy task to do but not completely a habit you had to use some focus.
“You’re only saying that Jess because it’s the most recent coffee you’ve had.” You zone back into the conversation hearing Janine mention Jessie.
“What about you?” Janine kicks her leg slightly, indicating she was talking to you.
“Sorry, what?” You hadn’t heard what the question was, too zoned out in your own thoughts.
“What’s your go-to coffee order?”
“Oh, usually a cold brew, sometimes I’ll add caramel or raspberry syrup, nothing too crazy.” You answer as you finish up taping her knee. “You’re all set.” You pat her knee and she hops up off the table, thanking you and heading out the door.
You turn and see Jessie putting away her heat pack, something you usually did for her. She gives you a glance, a blank expression on her face as she moves to grab the ball to roll out. As her teammates all filter out, it’s just you and Jessie left in the training room as the rest of the staff followed out to set up for the match. She hadn’t said much to you all day and something felt off, you attempted to make conversation with her.
“Are you looking forward to being back in Portland?”
“Yeah, sort of, I always miss the people here, Portland is all still so new, not quite home yet. Plus the training staff there isn’t nearly as fun, you won’t be-”
“Hey if you’re not doing anything besides chatting, come help set up.” Your Mom’s voice comes from across the room, her head stuck through the door.
Of course she walked in now, not when you were helping Beckie, not when you had been filling water bottles, not when you had been talking to Julia about ankle taping, not when you were having a friendly chat with Quinn, not when you were helping the other staff refill first aid kits. Of course she walked in when it was just you and Jessie, not helping her accusations from last week.
“Coming.” You turn away from Jessie and follow your mom out. As you follow down the hallway she looks back at you. She doesn’t say anything but her glare is enough to keep you from trying to defend what she saw.
The friendly was easy, no injuries, no issues, Canada taking the win 3-1. Jessie was able to get back into playing a full 90’ which while you tried not to show it, you felt proud of. You were proud of your own work, being able to get her back with your help but also proud of Jessie for working through her injury. Thankfully since she was playing the full 90’ there was no time for her to chat with you on the bench, much to your Mom’s relief. You had finished up the evening working with some of the team on stretching and helping them plan for their few weeks back at their club teams. It wasn’t difficult work but it had kept you late at the stadium, leading to a rough start to your next morning.
You were sitting at your desk early at 5am, head resting against your hands, you were exhausted, the game ending late last night, staying to finish up recovery and cleaning up took a toll on your sleep already. What also didn’t help was lying in bed thinking about Jessie. She had felt cold today, she didn’t come to talk to you during halftime, she didn’t ask for extra help during recovery like she normally did. You knew it was your fault, well your Mom’s fault for her comments, but you were the one who pulled back from her first. You felt bad, pulling away from her but it’s what seemed to be the right thing.
“Hey.” A knock on your door frame pulls you from your exhausted brain fog. You look up to see Jessie much to your surprise, you hadn’t planned any of the players to be in this morning. They only had to be in later for film and to wrap up the camp before everyone went back to their clubs for a few weeks before the Olympic period began.
“Can I?” She pointed to the chair she usually would sit in.
“Of course.” You gesture to the chair across from you and Jessie walks in, two coffees in her hands. She places them both on the table before sliding one across the desk to you.
“What’s this for?”
“You.” She takes a sip from her own coffee. You take a look at the handwriting on the cup, labeling your drink as a cold brew with raspberry. You look up at Jessie questioning how she got your order.
“You mentioned your coffee order to Janine yesterday.” She says with a shrug as if you had directly told her your order and she hadn’t been listening into your conversation.
“You didn’t have to get me a coffee Jessie.” You take a sip of it anyway, you weren’t one to turn down caffeine especially after a long night.
“Well it’s more of an excuse to talk to you. I wanted to see what’s been going on.”
“Nothing new really, especially going into the break, no new injuries or anything from last night so no real updates, everyone’s doing well-”
“That’s not what I meant.” She cuts you off. “Sorry to interrupt, it's just I meant why it feels like you’re hiding from me?”
“Oh. Um.” You spin the coffee cup between your hands, looking down at it. You didn’t want to have to explain to her that your Mom is concerned you have a crush.
“If I did something, I’m sorry, I can fix-”
“You didn’t do anything.” You let out a sigh, there’s no way you were going to get out of talking with Jessie. You didn’t want to have to explain it to her, but you also didn’t want her sitting around thinking she did something wrong.
“It’s more my Mom, as embarrassing as that is to admit.” You pinch your eyes shut, feeling shy that you’re admitting that as a 22 year old, your Mom got into your head and made you change your behavior.
“Your Mom?” Jessie seems surprised, she definitely wasn’t expecting your Mom to be involved.
“She made some comments to me, she thought our relationship was becoming unprofessional. She even accused me, well us, of sleeping together.” You explain your behavior, you regret mentioning the sleeping together part as soon as it comes out of your mouth. You keep staring at the coffee in your hands, too nervous to look up and see Jessie’s reaction.
“Oh.” Jessie doesn’t say anything else.
“I obviously told her it wasn’t anything besides professional. We were just working, but her words got in my head so I figured the easiest way was to take a step back.”
“Oh come on!?” You could see her throw her hands up in your peripheral vision.
“What?” You lifted your head to look at her. You weren’t sure why she seemed to be annoyed with you.
“Am I really that bad of a flirt that you thought all those conversations we had were strictly professional?”
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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months
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Simmer #4
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CH4. 0800-Awkward | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Eddie’s van was cleaner than you expected and it smelled like mint gum and coffee. There were sheets of paper on the passenger seat he cleared for you with quick hands, boyish scrawls of ink noting down recipes and ingredients, a page of music in between. 
Music blared from the radio when Eddie turned on the engine and he scowled at the noise, bashing the button to turn it off so you were both squished between awkward silence instead. You put your hands on your lap, sitting up too straight, throat tight. 
The quiet enveloped you both. 
“Where am I takin’ you?” Eddie asked gruffly once he turned out of the parking lot. The rain was still bouncing off the roads, the sky dark and angry, navy coloured clouds blocking out all the light. “You live near Robin, right?”
You nodded, pulling at your knuckles until you gave in and picked at a nail, nervousness clawing at you like a persistent puppy. The boy beside you made your stomach tumble, and you weren’t quite sure why yet. “Yeah, just off fourth and Maple,” you told him. “But you can drop me off at the pharmacy, it’s only, like, a ten minute walk from there.”
Eddie scoffed at your suggestion, like he’d do no such thing, but he didn’t say anything else. So you spoke instead, your heart in your dry mouth, watching the boy’s profile, wondering how someone so pretty could be so damn mad all the time. Was it just you?
“So, uh, is Wayne your dad?”
Eddie didn’t take his eyes off the road, he just stepped on the accelerator a little too hard when the lights changed from amber to green. When the engine stopped yelling, he answered. “He’s my uncle.”
“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. Something told you that asking anything about Eddie’s father would result in a very quiet, very tense ride back to your apartment. “He’s real sweet— your uncle. He’s been super nice to me.”
“Wayne’s nice to everyone,” Eddie replied shortly and it hurt like a kick to the stomach. 
The breath left you and you deflated, just a little. The skin around your thumb was becoming raw from your picking. You couldn’t help it, even if you muttered it as you looked out the window. “Clearly it’s not a family trait.”
“What?” Eddie’s voice was all surprise, even the van juddered as he pressed on the brakes a little too hard. You glanced over at him, chin ducked down, fingers torturing the ones on your other hand. Eddie was all raised brows and parted lips, an almost curl of amusement on them. “What did you say?”
It was a dare, a challenge. A ‘go on, say that again. Are you brave enough?’  
You glared at him, just like he loved to do to you so often. “I said, clearly, it’s not a family trait.”
“What does that mean?” Eddie laughed, a rough bark that told you he didn’t actually find you funny at all. 
You were a built up dam, spilling over the top with a new job, new friends, a new apartment in a new town. It was scary. It had been hard. 
You burst. 
“You’re so mean to me,” you told him hotly, “all the time! And then you apologise, only for it to last until the end of your shift. I know I’m not like, the best waitress— I mean, I’m hardly Nancy, but I’m trying! I— I haven’t done anything to you.” You sniffed, you wobbled. Tears threatened you both and your voice came out a little higher now. “Have I? If I have, I didn’t mean to.”
You dragged a hand over your face and when you looked back to the boy, Eddie looked horrified. He was pink in the face, eyes darting from you to the road and back again, his finger curling around the steering wheel with a white knuckle grip. He didn’t say anything. 
“This is so fucking stupid,” you muttered to your lap and when Eddie slowed to the next stop sign, you flung a hand onto the door handle. “Just drop me here.”
The sound of the rain slapping the pavement only grew louder when you managed to open the door a crack and it seemed to spur Eddie into action. He leaned over you and grabbed at your hand, using it to pull the door shut again. It snapped back into place and Eddie was scowling when you swore at him in return. “Fucking Christ, woman,” he huffed. “I’m takin’ you home, alright? You’ll drown out there.”
“It’s a bit of rain, Eddie,” you snapped. “I lived in Chicago, I’ll survive some water.” Your ferocity was short lived, because you gave in with a huff, eyes watering once more as you pressed yourself against the seat and crossed your arms in defeat. 
There was a voice in your head, someone from an old job, an old classmate in middle school, your mom. It didn’t matter who, they were all cruel. Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby. 
“Can you just - fuck - can you just let me talk?” 
You watched as Eddie licked his lips, maybe out of nerves and he gripped the steering wheel harder still. You thought he’d maybe yell at you, maybe he’d tell you exactly why he was so hot and cold with you, maybe he’d explain in detail why you’d managed to piss him off. 
Instead, he asked, “why’d you leave Chicago?”
You stared at him. Was he joking? Was he playing some kind of weird joke? But Eddie waited, his face a pretty picture of sincerity and he glanced at you from the road as often as safety would let him. 
“Uh, I didn’t like it,” you scrunched your face at the memory, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Too big, too loud. I don’t really—” you searched for the right word, one that wouldn’t make you sound weak and small. “I don’t enjoy big cities. They’re too much.”
Eddie nodded and suddenly, suddenly, you were having a conversation with him. “I get that. My mom moved to Philadelphia, I don’t see her much, but I used to visit when I was a kid. Hated that no matter what time of night it was, it was never quiet - or dark - fuckin’ lights everywhere.”
There was a silence before you pressed your lips together and hummed. “Yeah,” you agreed. “You could never see the stars in Chicago. I missed that.” 
The rain was letting up now, nothing more than a horrible drizzle that you knew would still soak you to the bone, but it was quieter. Softer. The sky turned lilac, a hazy kind of purple blue as the sun tried to break through. 
“Where did you grow up?” Eddie peered through his curls at you, his fingers unfurling from the death grip he had on the wheel. He turned down Main Street, one hand in his lap, his head leaning back against the chair. “I know it wasn’t here - would’ve remembered you.”
“Fortville,” you told him, wondering if you just kept talking, your heart would stop racing at what he’d just said to you. “With my parents. It was a tiny place, not much there, probably even smaller than Hawkins and we had chickens and a dog my mom rescued just before I was born. I liked it though, it was a nice place to grow up.”
“Why’d you leave?”
You shrugged, turned to look out the window at the spots of rain on the glass, the kaleidoscope of colours they made now the sun shone through them. “Dad left, found another family. Mom turned mean.” You didn’t elaborate more than that and Eddie noticed how your voice turned softer, even quieter. 
“Fair enough,” Eddie answered and you couldn’t help but notice that when he wasn’t frowning, when the lines between his brows were gone, his eyes were the colour of dark chocolate, big and earnest looking. “I can, uh, relate. Kinda.”
A comfortable silence passed after that, one that came with the break of the clouds, dark shadows giving way to a late evening sunset, turning the wet sidewalks golden. You could feel Eddie stealing glances at you, quick flickers of his eyes that went from your face to where your fingers were picking at your nails on your lap. 
“You haven’t— you haven’t done anything to me,” Eddie murmured. You looked up at the sound of his voice, nails forgotten about and you saw that flush on his cheeks rise over his nose, turning it pink. He licked his lips and you tracked the movement, feeling the nerves roll off of him and fill the space between you. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t, I didn’t mean to be… mean.”
Eddie parked the van and you blinked, not even realising that he’d stopped on your street. Your apartment building was just a little down the road, waiting. 
“You lied to me when I came in that day,” you squinted at the boy, both of you cringing at the memory of Eddie pretending that he wasn’t who he was. That he wasn’t who you were looking for. “Why? Why did you do that?”
Eddie turned a deeper shade of pink, cheeks burning and he fumbled over his words before he swallowed harshly and turned towards you in his seat. He tugged at his curls, unsure what to do with his hands now he didn’t have the wheel to grip. “I’m, shit, I’m sorry ‘bout that. That was— that was just. Stupid.”
You nodded, looking at him with sad eyes that seemed to make his brow knit together in despair. 
“I don’t, uh, I don’t do well with like, making friends?” Eddie offered an explanation that he didn’t seem to be able to admit easily. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to smile at you, tried to ease the feeling of guilt that was swarming him. “I get stuck in my ways, y’know? I just go to work, go home, go back to work— new things—” Eddie glanced over at you with those big eyes. “—new people, make me kinda, nervous. I guess.”
You let your gaze settle on his, watching as he took in a breath and blinked. He looked a little dizzy, his confession making the air a little lighter. But something else lingered. It felt like glitter, a sparkling, pretty thing that swirled in the front space of the van. It was hopeful. 
“I get nervous too. Shy,” you admitted. You felt nervous now, tummy tumbling, a whole aviary loose inside. “About a lot of things.” About you, is what you didn’t say. “But I’m not a dick about it.”
 Eddie snorted and the sound made your lip quirk up, an almost smile. Eddie nodded, like he was agreeing with your passive insult, his lips twisting as he looked you over once more. His gaze was warmer than you’d seen it before, no furrow between his brow to make you wonder if he was pissed at you. Now he just looked… interested.
“You’re right,” he announced. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ve been a dick. I’m sorry.”
“You said sorry earlier,” you reminded him. “With breakfast. But then you were a dick all over again. This hot and cold is making my head hurt.” You fiddled with the hem of your uniform dress, lifting powder blue away from your knee to pick at a loose thread. 
“I did, didn’t I?” The boy let his head fall back onto the window, a dull thud, curls sticking to the glass that was all fogged up from you both sitting talking. The setting sun made him golden, peach coloured cheeks and honey eyes, all bronze shadows and inky lines over his arms, peeking out from his T-shirt. “Was it good? Your breakfast?”
You rolled your eyes and Eddie grinned, truly, he beamed at you. It was a flirtatious thing, a pretty thing - it made your heart pick up and your breath catch in your throat because it was so fucking unexpected. 
“Yes, it was good,” you murmured, back to shy, back to dipping your chin and not really being able to look him in the eye. “But that’s not the point.”
“You’re right,” he said again. The boy seemed so much more agreeable out of his chef whites, without the heat and the noise and the constant sizzle of the kitchen. “I really am sorry - I hate, fuck, I hate that I didn’t make you feel welcome. That was shitty of me.”
You sniffed, pulled the thread loose and watched baby blue spring and curl around your finger. “It was.”
Eddie looked hopeful when you finally found the courage to meet his gaze again. He gave you a slow shrug, a half smile that still didn’t look fully sure. But he tried anyway.. “Can we start again?” He moved, shifting closer to you, close enough that the stick shift was pressing against the slight pudge of his tummy and you could smell his cologne, could see the freckles on the bridge of his nose. He held out his hand for you, silver rings and all. “Hi, I’m Eddie.”
He waited with wide eyes for you to reach out too, to slip your hand into his and curl your fingers around his palm. He did the same, engulfing you. His hands were much warmer, wider, bigger. Calloused and with silver scars, no doubt from too sharp knives. 
“It’s nice to meet you.”
—————
You burst through the kitchen doors just as you broke. A burn in the corner of your eyes, a hollow thud in your chest as the adrenaline of being yelled at surged through you. A family with too many kids to keep track of, a plate of fries on the floor before you could bring out every meal, a stressed out mother who took out her frustration on you and the fact you’d forgotten the soda one of the small boys was yelling about. She was sharp about it, loud enough for the other customers to hear and you watched as Robin frowned from the booth she was serving. 
She grabbed your elbow as you passed, feet threatening to stumble with how quick you moved, cheeks hot, throat tight. “I’ll get it,” she whispered. “Take a minute.”
But you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak before you could suck in a breath. “S’fine. It’s fine. I’ll fix it.” 
So you let the kitchen door hit the wall as you almost ran in, eyes blinking back tears of embarrassment and the noise was enough for Eddie to look up from the grill where he was flipping burgers. He frowned at the sight of you, but this time, he looked concerned. You rushed past him to grab the glass of soda that was sitting forgotten on a tray - next to the extra basket of fries the woman had requested, fuck - and turned on your heel to go back out the way you came. 
“Hey,” Eddie called after you, “what’s wrong?”
You brushed him away with a raised hand, the other holding the tray of missed items and you didn’t trust yourself to look back at the boy as you rushed back out the door. You sniffed and blinked before you put on a smile, approaching the woman who’d loudly berated you in front of the entire diner. 
“I’m so sorry again,” you whispered as you placed the drink and fries on the messy table. One of the kids screamed and you flinched, trying your best to keep the smile on your face as the woman turned to you. “If there’s anything else I can get you, ju—”
“If there’s anything else I need, I’ll get it myself,” she scoffed meanly. Her voice was too sharp, still too loud, a biting thing that dug into your arm and wouldn’t let go. “You got a pretty face, honey, but that’s not gonna get you far. Can hear that empty space in that head from all the way over here.”
You blinked again, uncaring that a tear slipped out, a hot drip of water down one cheek. You kept smiling. In fact, you smiled all the way back into the kitchen before your breath stuttered and your face crumpled. 
“Hey, hey, c’mon.” Eddie. At your side, a hand catching your elbow, fingertips grazing your skin like he was still too unsure to hold you fully. “C’mere. It’s fine.”
He led you through the kitchen, hand guiding you so your blurry eyes didn’t lead you into the corner of a station. There was something spicy cooking in a pan, garlic and chilli and soy that Argyle took over stirring as Eddie left it alone in favour of you. Jim must’ve heard the commotion in the dining room, ‘cause he made a rare appearance outside of his office, hand holding onto the door frame as he leaned out, frowning at what he saw. 
“Chicago,” he called through the kitchen, voice booming over the radio, the sizzle of the grill, the drone of the vents. “You good? You wanna talk?”
You turned, bumping into Eddie’s side and shaking your head, all whilst trying to smile and appear like you were absolutely fine. Totally normal. Definitely not crying like a baby. You cringed, turning back around and ducking your chin to hide your glossy eyes, your wet cheeks. 
“S’fine, Jim,” Eddie called back. “I’ve got her. Jus’ give us five minutes.”
“Munson, you got burgers on!” Your boss called back, you heard him sigh and Argyle told him that he’d manage. 
“Five minutes!” Eddie said again, his voice sharper and louder than before and you were moving faster to the back door, bypassing the walk in altogether. 
“If they burn, that’s too much money to get thrown in the trash, Eddie,” Hopper complained. “That’s prime fuckin’ beef from the Sinclairs, Eddie and I don’t got time to get Lucas back out for another delivery— hey! Are you listen—”  
Eddie ushered you out of the fire exit, blue skies and too bright light making you squint, a rush of hot air that was heavier than the kitchen, muggy and smelling like cut grass and the smoke that came from the vent on the wall. The door snapped shut before Jim could finish talking. 
The silence was a warm thing, cloying like the summer afternoon, the edge of a heatwave, the steam from the kitchen that lingered in the small alleyway out back. You brought the heels of your palms to your eyes, pushing there meanly as you sniffed a little wetly and tried to stop your bottom lip from trembling. If you faced the crumbling wall, maybe you could pretend Eddie wasn’t there, watching you. 
“Hey, c’mon.”
You groaned. 
“C’mon,” Eddie coaxed again, his hand pulling at your wrist, urging you to stop hiding. “You gotta stop letting customers get you all upset like this. ‘Specially the ones that are utter assholes.”
“You heard her?” You asked weakly, embarrassment crawling up your neck. You knew he would’ve, shit, Wayne probably heard it all the way down the street. Of course Eddie heard it from the kitchen. “God, that’s so—” you let out a small groan of anger, a soft wail that was tinged with a little shame.
“No, no, stop that,” Eddie frowned as you buried your face in your hands once more. He got you by your shoulders, palms and fingers curling over the bone there, impossibly wide, engulfing. You turned soft for him, letting him manhandle you until you were facing him, brows crinkled, your cheeks warm. “She was a bitch. You’re okay, it’s alright.”
You sucked in another breath, one of those awful ones that hitched and made your throat close up a little. It was hard to look into Eddie’s eyes. They were big and warm and earnest, crazily so, the colour of burnt honey and he was painfully close. The alleyway pushed you both together, space limited between the walls, the empty pallets, the stacked up crates. 
“She was out of order, yeah?” Eddie continued softly, his thumb pushing softly into the meat of your shoulder, drawing circles through your uniform. “You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re all just human here, Chicago. It’s fine.”
You nodded, numb. Tears still stained your hot cheeks, salt gathering in the corners of your mouth and you felt embarrassed at the reaction, the white hot rush of anxiety that gripped the back of your neck as soon as someone raised their voice at you. You blinked again, feeling heavy, another fresh wave of tears making your vision turn into kaleidoscopes. You scrunched your face, annoyed with yourself, head tilting back to the strip of blue sky you could see between the buildings roofs. 
“God, I’m so fucking lame,” you groaned. “So stupid.”
You brought your chin back down to just catch the boy smiling, a dopey, soft thing that made you think he was gonna laugh at you. He did, but it wasn’t mean. In fact, Eddie’s laugh was a damn pretty thing. Scratchy and raspy and warm, enough to make you stop screwing your face up and blink at him. 
“You’re not lame,” he told you firmly. He dropped his hands from your shoulders now that you weren’t intent on hiding. You found you missed the weight of them on you, a grounding feeling that helped the tears subside. “Or stupid. Shit, kid, you gotta stop being so hard on yourself.”
“I’m always forgetting stuff though,” you argued. The sun was a blazing thing above you both, hot on your head, your shoulders, the back of your neck. Your uniform itched under the heat and you were backing away into the shadows along the line of the diner wall. Eddie followed, shoulder to shoulder as he leaned against the brick, lounging enough to bring him to the same height as you. “I’m messing up orders and I keep walking into the same stupid table - even though it’s always there! I got a bruise on my hip the size of a fucking peach,” you grumbled unhappily. 
Eddie snorted at hearing you swear, a cannonball of a word coming out of your sweet mouth, usually talking softly and shyly at him and customers. He knocked your shoulder with his and tutted. “You’re still new,” he shrugged when you scoffed. You’d been at the diner for almost two months. “Get out of here with that, you are. You’re in a new town and a new job. Give yourself a break.”
“I’m just— god.” You bit down on your bottom lip until it hurt. “I’m such a crybaby, I hate it. I must look like such a mess.” Your eyes felt sore, your cheeks puffy and warm, all too familiar and just as embarrassing as it was when you were ten, fifteen, twenty years old. 
Eddie just shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his chef whites. He looked at your face, just for a second, before ducking his chin and studying the concrete below his feet. “Nah,” he said quietly, “you look pretty like always.”
It was quiet for a second or two, the surprise on your face morphing into a crooked smile, a quirk of one corner of your lips at the boy’s words. You sniffed and laughed a little watery, a shy sounding thing that made Eddie blink at you. “You’re being nice to me,” you told him.  
He grinned like he couldn’t help himself, a sharp, sudden thing that made his face look even prettier. Curls spilled from his poorly tied bun and his cheeks went rose coloured, more blush than flushed from the heat. He knitted his brows together in faux confusion, tried to act too cool, too blasé. “I am, aren’t I?” He huffed. “Weird.”
You shoved at him in jest, your hand on his shoulder and he barely even budged. But you felt a thrill in touching him, your hand just by the muscles in his arm, where you knew a tattoo lay, curling around a bicep that you couldn’t see under his uniform. It was easy to joke like this, to smile and wipe your eyes one last time when Eddie was playing nice. 
You felt like a teen with a crush, that lovesick, giddy type of softness settling in your chest and it purred when you looked at the boy. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But Eddie got prettier when he smiled at you and when he reached out to straighten the pen that was about to call out of your chest pocket, you were done. A goner. 
You wanted to ask if this made you friends. 
Instead, you swallowed your embarrassment and hoped you hadn’t been staring. “Thank you,” you murmured shyly. “You didn’t have to do this.”
Eddie pulled open the fire exit and waited for you to enter first, holding open the door as the noise of the diner flooded back out to you. Kids yelling, the grill popping, the coffee machine whirring. 
“Would you rather Jim gave you one of his famous three minute counselling sessions?” Eddie winced theatrically. “I haven’t had one myself, but rumour has it there’s a stress ball and some talk about toughening up and how the world just ain’t fair.”
You laughed, walking back into the kitchen with Eddie by your side. Your shoulder brushed against his arm and you shook your head, looking up at him with a heat in your cheeks you were sure he’d be able to notice. “No, m’glad it was you.”
You must’ve surprised the boy, because he blinked as he stopped at the grill. Argyle had flipped all the patties and left the spatula by the countertop but Eddie didn’t take his eyes off of you as he grasped it. You watched his brows lift a little, mouth parting before he closed it again and nodded, looking a little numb. 
And then: “cool. Yeah, no, good. Come get me next time too.”
2K notes · View notes
rollingsins · 8 months
Text
Quinn Bailey Must Die
P1 | P2 | P3
summary: Quinn Bailey is yours and Tara's man-eating, sexed up, horn-dog roommate. She's cool at first, you think. Until she sets her sights on Tara. 
warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, language.
word count: 6.6k
a/n: set in the all hers universe, just a lil (big) one shot. love u guys, as always let me know your thoughts, always makes my day :))
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Quinn Bailey is - to put it lightly - an absolute pain in your ass. 
New York City is expensive. 
College is expensive. 
And despite your parents' assistance and you and Tara both working part time jobs, it just isn’t feasible for you to get your own place in the city. 
So you’d put an ad in the paper. Found Quinn. She’d seemed fun at first - lively. The type of girl you’d want to be friends with in a new city like this. A tried and true party girl, glimmering like a jewel in a sea of dreary faces. 
But her sparkle had lasted all of three weeks. 
First it was the dishes. 
She left them piled up in the sink, unattended. For days, sometimes weeks. 
A little pet peeve of yours, but it wasn’t anything major. 
It had nothing on the men. 
They were like a revolving door. An entire roster of bodies to keep her warm. 
Short men. Tall men. Thin men, muscular men. Men with beards. Men without. Pretty men, sometimes, even ugly men. 
If he lived in the tri-state area and had a penis - likely he’d seen the inside of your apartment (and your roommate). 
But really, you’re not in the position to complain. 
You and Tara weren’t exactly known for having quiet sex, and of all the people you’d lived with, Quinn seemed to mind it the least. 
Maybe, looking back, that should have been the first warning sign. 
“I don’t know,” Quinn sighs one night over a glass of wine. Tara’s curled up in your arms, nursing her own glass as you play with her hair, “Sometimes I think I should just give them all up.” 
“Men?” You ask, furrowing your brow. You laugh a little at the thought, “I don’t know Quinn, outside of partying, men are your biggest hobby.” 
It’s not intended as a slight, and Quinn doesn’t take it as one. She throws a coy smile your way. 
“I don’t know, you two have just got me thinking lately,” She says, “I’ve never considered girls before. I mean, I like dick. A lot. But maybe dick isn’t everything.” 
“Poetic,” You say, an eyebrow raised. 
Men or women, it didn’t really matter who Quinn bought home. You’d have to wear your noise canceling headphones regardless. 
But Tara’s shifting in your arms, sitting up. Then, she narrows her eyes at Quinn.  
Like she’s scanning her for a potential threat. 
Although therapy had quietened some of Tara’s more jealous tendencies, it hadn’t gotten rid of them completely. Now, instead of stabbing - she chooses staring. 
You rub her arm, your quiet signal there are no threats here. 
“Besides,” Quinn says, throwing her hair back, “A chick can just strap one on, right? And it never goes soft. Maybe that’s an upgrade.” 
Tara’s tense against you. 
Quinn looks over at her, and suddenly notices the death glare she’s receiving. She pinches her eyebrows, a little confused. 
“What’s got you all worked up?” Quinn asks, with another flick of her hair. Her eyes widen, “Oh? You think I’m trying to make a play for your girl?” 
She leans back and lets out a loud laugh. 
“Chill Tara, if I was going to go for either of you, it wouldn’t be her.” 
And then it’s your turn to stare. 
Your hand freezes over Tara’s arm. A hot, familiar feeling of jealousy seeps through you, settles deep within your bones. 
Quinn catches your gaze and rolls her eyes. 
“Girls,” She says, exasperated, “You’re not the only pussy-lickers in town. Relax, okay?”
Tara leans back into you, seemingly placated. 
Quinn tilts her head, and downs the rest of her wine. She picks up her phone to call some other nameless man, no doubt to terrorize the two of you within the next half an hour. 
The conversation is over. 
But the jealousy bubbling under your skin doesn’t simmer down. And suddenly,  it’s the only thing you can think about. 
-
“What did she mean by that?” You agonize to Liv and Chad, a little later. 
You’re in the NYU quad, picking at your salad with a plastic fork. Tara’s in class, giving you more than enough time to stew on the conversation with Quinn. 
Chad slurps on his milkshake, seemingly unbothered. 
“She was just being friendly, YN, I wouldn’t read into it.” Says Chad, mouth open and full of food. 
Liv turns to him. Smacks his arm, a little too hard. 
“Friendly?” She says, voice shrill, “Friendly?” 
Chad blinks back at her, but she’s turning to you.  
“YN, she was not being friendly, don’t listen to him. Boys are so stupid.” 
“Hey-“ Interjects Chad, but Liv ignores him. She takes your arm. 
“She’s making a play for Tara, YN,” She says, a little urgently, “Girls do this. We like to play with our food before we eat it. She was scoping out Tara’s reaction before she put the moves on her for real.” 
You furrow your brow. 
“You think?” 
“I know,” Says Liv, “How do you think I got Chad?” 
Chad looks over to her, a little owlish. 
“Huh?” He says, creasing his forehead, “I asked you out, babe.” 
Liv shoots him a look. 
“You asked me out after I spent two weekends at your house asking for Mario Kart lessons.” 
Chad’s eyes widen. 
“You said that was so you could beat your brother!” 
Liv gives you a look. 
“Women are masterminds, YN. Watch the fuck out.” 
-
Liv’s comments ring in the back of your mind for the rest of the day. 
Now that you think about it, Quinn had been lounging about the house lately in scantily clad outfits. 
Sleep shorts that rose almost up to her hips. Tiny tank tops that were almost see through. She giggled a little too hard at Tara’s jokes, gushed over Tara’s cooking as if Tara was Gordon Ramsey himself. 
You’re starting to see it. 
Quinn liked her conquests. 
Men were easy, women a little harder - but for a girl who liked to conquer, who better than Tara? 
Your sweet, loving, loyal and devoted girlfriend. 
Prying Tara away from you wouldn’t be child’s play. 
Truly the Mount Everest of conquests. 
“What’s wrong baby?” Tara asks you a little later, after you’d spent half the night glaring at Quinn. 
She’d been traipsing around all afternoon in a pair of black panties and an old t-shirt, an outfit that wouldn’t have made you think twice about it a few days ago. 
But it’s different now. 
Liv’s words ring loud in your head, “Women are masterminds, YN.” 
You don’t respond, instead dropping a soapy pot to the countertop and watching as Quinn disappears into her bedroom, her phone pressed to her ear. 
Tara snakes her arms around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. 
“Babe?” Tara prompts. 
“Nothing,” You mumble. You’re in your own head now, half afraid if you say it out loud it will become true. 
You feel Tara’s pout against your shoulder. 
“Something’s wrong, you barely said anything when I tried to get you to watch Saw III,” She says, turning you in her arms. 
She raises an eyebrow to punctuate her point. 
“And you hate gore movies.” 
“I like movies that make you happy,” You lie. 
Tara furrows her brow. 
“Okay, something is definitely wrong,” She says. She stands on her tip toes and presses the softest kiss to your cheeks, “Tell me babe, what is it?” 
You bite your lip. 
Tara is your girlfriend, you reason after a moment of hesitation, and if anyone were to understand jealousy - it would be her. 
You sigh and loop your arms around Tara’s waist. 
“Is Quinn… do you think she’s acting weird?” 
Tara frowns. 
“No weirder than usual.” 
“It’s just…” you chew your lip, “I think she might.. be into you, babe.” 
Tara shoots you a look. 
“I don’t think so,” She says. She leans up and presses a kiss to your lips, “She has a pretty solid roster of dudes to keep her entertained.” 
She brushes a stand of hair out of your face, “Is that what’s bothering you, baby? You know you have nothing to worry about. I only have eyes for you.” 
It placates you for only a moment. 
Of course you don’t have anything to worry about. Tara adores you. Tara’s killed for you. Tara loves you with every fiber of her being. 
It’s just… 
Quinn is pretty. So pretty. 
Tara had fallen hard and fast for you, who’s to say she couldn’t fall the same way for someone else? 
And then the dread is back. 
“It’s just… Liv said-“ 
Tara groans. 
“Babe, don’t worry about what Liv has said. She barely knows the days of the week.” 
“But she knows how to get guys,” You say, a little pointed. 
Tara tilts her head. Her eyes are warm, the softest smile on her lips. 
“I’m not a guy,” Tara promises. She nuzzles her nose against yours, “Quinn could parade around here naked doing backflips and I wouldn’t look twice at her. You know that, babe.” 
You do know that. 
And so you let Tara press warm kisses into your neck and drag you back to the bedroom. 
Make sure to moan a little louder than usual just to remind Quinn exactly who Tara belongs to. 
-
It doesn’t work. 
Because of course, why would it work? 
The barrage of men flitting in and out of Quinn’s room comes to a screeching halt. She’s celibate for almost a week, focusing all her sexual energy on your girlfriend. 
It’s subtle, in the masterful kind of way Liv described. 
“Man,” She sighs loudly, one morning from her spot at the kitchen counter, “Tara, do you think you could help me on this paper for film class? I have to write a paper on iconic women in horror.” 
Tara springs to action, charging away from you like this is her sole purpose in life: to share her catalog of benign horror knowledge to any pretty girl who looks her way. 
You fold your arms, unhappily. 
“Start with Ellen Ripley,” Tara commands, before she even sits down. Quinn begins typing, madly. Tara pulls up a chair next to Quinn’s, leaning in a respectful distance to peer down at Quinn’s screen.  
“Signorney Weaver’s impact on horror is maybe one of the things that made me interested in horror to begin with.”
“I didn’t know that,” Quinn coos. She touches Tara’s arm, only slightly, leaning in until their shoulders brush, “That’s so cute, Tara.” 
Tara draws back, clearing her throat. 
“When you’re done with Sigourney, maybe touch on Jamie-Lee-Curtis.” 
Quinn blinks over at her, eyes round, like an innocent doe. 
You know better. 
Your eyes narrow as you stand, reaching for your purse. 
“Baby,” You remind Tara, leaning over to touch her back, “We need to get groceries today. Before Sam comes to visit.”
Quinn’s schoolgirl act drops immediately. Her eyes frost over slightly as she looks over at you, only the tiniest twinge of irritation apparent. 
“Maybe you could do that later, YN?” She asks, voice tilted, “I have to get this paper done before tonight.” 
“Sorry,” You flash her the mildest smile, not sorry at all, “Tara’s sister is coming all the way from California. We need to get the place ready, right babe?”
Tara nods, turning to Quinn to shrug.  
“Google should be able to help,” She says, scooting off her chair and grabbing her coat, “Carrie’s a great film too, if you’re in a pinch.”
“Well, maybe you can help me when you get back?” Quinn asks, a slight pout on her lip as she looks at Tara. 
Your eyes narrow, but Tara nods, helpfully. 
“Sure.” 
-
Naively, you’d hoped Quinn would get bored with this little game she’d started. 
Her attention span is short, you’d reasoned, as soon as she’d figured out Tara isn’t returning any of her flirty looks or comments, she’d get bored. 
You’d been wrong. 
If anything, Tara’s lack of interest only seems to spur Quinn on more. 
Most of your classes are in the mornings, Tara’s in the afternoon. Tara walks you to class, leaves you with a soft kiss and an “I love you”, but you know Quinn doesn’t work until the evenings, and it’s just her and Tara alone in that tiny little apartment for hours on end. 
So you toil in your classes. Imagine the worst. 
Tara and Quinn, sitting side by side, watching horror movies. Quinn touches her arm, then her thigh, leaning in to kiss her. 
Tara bats her away, most times you think about it. But sometimes she doesn’t. Sometimes she lets herself be kissed. Sometimes she lets Quinn touch her, undress her. Fuck her. 
And those sometimes become all you can think about. 
This is a new challenge, one that has rarely surfaced in your relationship. 
Tara is so enamored with you, most people don’t even bother attempting to seduce her. But Quinn isn’t most people, she’s persistent and pretty and maybe Tara isn’t a guy, but that doesn’t mean she can’t fall for the same traps a lot of them do. 
A sticky hot, honey-trap by the name of Quinn Bailey. 
“What are you doing?” You ask, a little stern when you walk into the apartment that afternoon. Tara’s curled up onto the couch, blanket wrapped around her. Quinn’s hovering over her, the back of her hand pressed against Tara’s forehead. 
A prickle settles down the back of your spine. Your jaw clenches. 
But Tara doesn’t even look over, just nuzzles herself deeper into her blanket. 
“Tara isn’t feeling well, poor baby.” Quinn coos. 
You drop your bag, ignore the rageful little demon in you that wants to bat Quinn’s hand away and fall to your girlfriend's side. The tip of Tara’s nose is red, and her lips are chapped. As she blinks up at you, you notice her eyes are hazy. 
“Honey,” You say, all thought of Quinn gone as you press your lips to Tara’s cheek, “Why didn’t you call?” 
“It’s nothing, just a cold,” Says Tara, but she curls into your side anyway. You press a gentle kiss to her clammy forehead and rub her arm. Quinn disappears into the kitchen, returning with a small bowl. 
“I made her some tea,” Says Quinn, “And some soup from scratch.” 
You blink up at her. You’ve never seen Quinn cook anything in her life. She’s all Deliveroo and fruit roll ups and toast. But the kitchen sink is awash with stray noodles and dirty pots. The smell of soup lingers. 
“Thanks Quinn,” Tara murmurs, reaching out to take the bowl from her hands, “You didn’t have to do that.” 
The angry, jealous demon is back. Quinn’s smile is unsettling, almost triumphant. 
As if she’s out-girlfriend-ed you. 
You swallow the urge to punch her in the throat. 
“No, you didn’t.” You say, warily, “Tara’s allergic to MSG, you didn’t put any of that in it, did you?” 
Quinn shakes her head, her smile coy. 
“All natural, only the best for our girl.” Quinn says, and then squeezes Tara’s shoulder. 
You glare as she cleans up the dirty plates and contemplate homicide for the rest of the evening. 
-
When Tara’s feeling better, you’ll bring it up, you reason with yourself the next morning. 
Quinn Bailey is becoming a pest, a horned up sex-pest determined to get her claws in your girlfriend. 
It has to stop. 
The solution? 
This is where you’re a little stuck. You don’t know the solution. Strangling Quinn sounds great on paper, but not so much in practice. 
Dead people don’t pay rent, that’s the only thing you know for sure.
You contemplate this over the next couple of days, between wrestling a hot water bottle for Tara out of Quinn’s hands, and almost jogging down to the corner store at the end of your block to beat Quinn for the tylenol. 
Tara’s such a baby when she’s sick, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think she’s starting to enjoy this. Two women fawning over her, competing for who can nurse her the best. 
And the worst part is, Quinn knows exactly what she’s doing and she wants you to know it. 
She doesn’t say it, not outright, too smart to play her hand too quickly. 
She grins as she spoonfeds Tara some leftover soup, flashes you a look as she dabs Tara’s sweaty forehead with a damp cloth. 
She raises an eyebrow at you as Tara croaks out to her, asking for more tissues. 
It makes you stew. 
It makes you want to grab the kitchen knife out of the top draw and slam it through her stupid neck.
It makes you want to grab her by the hair and throw her out of the window of your seventh story apartment. 
But you resist. 
Let her think she’s winning. 
It’ll make the victory you claw from her hands all the more sweet. 
Tara’s feeling better a few days later, and with her recovery comes the first taste of victory. 
Quinn’s making dinner in the kitchen - her newfound passion being culinary for your girlfriend. She hums a little, flitting between batting her eyelashes at Tara and shooting knowing glances in your direction. 
“Tara,” She says, just as she’s about to pour the tomato paste into the pasta “I can’t get this jar open. Can you help me?” 
Tara’s busy with her laptop, but she moves over regardless. She touches your shoulder lightly as she passes, and reaches out to take the jar from Quinn’s hand. 
It pops open immediately. You roll your eyes. 
Quinn beams, and as you look up, she’s running her hand over your girlfriend’s bicep. 
“You’re so strong,” She flirts, brazenly, “Thanks Tara.” 
Tara moves back to her laptop, unperturbed. 
When it comes to attention towards her she has always been oblivious. You let out a growl so low, no-one but you hears it. 
“Dinner’s up, Tara,” Quinn says, a few moments later, pulling out a couple of plates. 
You peer down at your book, suddenly very interested in the words. When Quinn had asked you your plans for the evening - grocery bags in hand - you’d neglected to tell her Tara had asked you out to dinner. 
Tara blinks over at her, a little confused. 
“Dinner?” She asks, closing the lid of her laptop. 
“Yeah,” Says Quinn with a sickly smile, “I made your favorite.” 
Tara tilts her head, “Oh. Sorry, Quinn, we’re going out tonight. I didn’t realize you were cooking for us.” 
Quinn stares a moment. 
“That’s fine,” She says, voice a little clipped, “Only, I asked YN and she said you guys were around.” 
You close your book and stand, grabbing your coat. 
“Oh yeah,” You say, smacking your hand to your head, as if you’d suddenly forgotten, “Dinner. I am so sorry, Quinn. Gosh, I am so forgetful sometimes.” 
Tara peers over at you, a little confused. 
Oblivious idiot when it comes to girls, yes, but not with you. You see the question in her eyes and neglect to answer it. 
Quinn’s eyes harden, but she doesn’t dare give up the jig. Not in front of Tara.
“It’s fine,” She says, “Maybe you can have it for lunch.” 
“Yeah, maybe,” Tara says, a little absent minded as you wrap her jacket around her shoulders. 
You can tell she feels bad by the way she lingers. 
“We haven’t had a date night in a while, that’s all,” Tara explains. She wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes your hip, “Besides, I owe this one a dinner for taking such good care of me these last couple of days.” 
She presses a soft kiss to your lips, her brown eyes warm and shimmering. 
You can’t help the smile that snakes across your lips. 
Quinn crosses her arms, looking unhappy. 
“I seem to remember taking pretty good care of you,” She says, drawing Tara’s gaze, “Maybe you should be taking me out to dinner, too.” 
Tara’s eyebrows knit in confusion. She looks at you, a little helpless, like she’s suddenly aware she’s caught in a chess match she wasn’t aware she was playing. 
Bless her. 
Your poor, sweet, unsuspecting girlfriend. 
You squeeze her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. 
“Did you get the feeling Quinn’s mad at me?” She asks, “Maybe we should have invited her to dinner. She did make me a lot of soup.” 
You tilt your wine glass to your lips, needing the rush of the alcohol to get you through this conversation. 
When you set it down, Tara’s blinking back at you, with wide, brown eyes. 
“Remember what we talked about a couple of weeks ago, babe?” You say, “About my conversation with Liv.” 
Tara nods. 
“And have you noticed it, this past couple of weeks?” You prompt, “Quinn flirting with you?” 
Tara tilts her head. 
“No.” 
“Tara, she touched your arm and called you strong,” You say, pinching the bridge of your nose. Quinn had gone to work earlier that day, blown a kiss goodbye to Tara as she’d left. 
Made sure you’d seen it. 
Tara shrugs, “I’ve been in the gym, babe, I’m getting stronger.”
She flexes her bicep. 
“Look, babe, that’s all muscle.” She says, proudly. 
“That’s not the point, Tara,” You say, “She’s flirting with you. She’s been flirting with you all week.” 
Tara frowns. 
“She has?” She asks, looking a little perplexed. 
Then, she pouts. 
“So she was just complimenting my lasagne because she wanted to sleep with me?” She says, looking put out, “I thought she really liked my new recipe.” 
“Forget about the lasagne, Tara, this is not okay.” You say, “How would you feel if she were hitting on me?”
Tara frowns. 
“Not good,” She admits, “Bad. Really, really bad.” 
You sigh, dropping your fork onto your plate. 
“She’s going to have to go,” You tell Tara, “If she can’t respect our relationship, she can get the fuck out.” 
Tara bites her lip. 
“Okay, babe,” She says, a little wary, “It’s just… rent is due next month and I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to replace her.”
She squeezes your hand, a little hasty as she sees the look on your face. 
“I’ll talk to her,” Tara says, leaning up to kiss you, “I’ll remind her I’m taken and not interested. And if she still tries it after that, she goes. How’s that, babe?” 
-
Tara’s talk with Quinn happens a little later. 
You climb into bed, head tilted as you hear the quiet murmur of their voices down the hall. It doesn’t sound heated, and you hear Quinn giggling as she tells Tara goodnight. 
You frown as Tara enters the room. 
“It’s just a misunderstanding, baby,” She says as she climbs into bed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “She doesn’t like me. She told me she’s just been a little clingier than usual because we’re her only friends.” 
“Babe-“ You start with a huff, ready to climb out of bed but Tara’s hands grip around your waist. 
“I know, I know, babe.” She assures, pressing another quick kiss to your neck, “I know you think it’s all bullshit so I told her straight up. I told her I’m in love with you and if she tries anything we’ll kick her straight out.” 
You frown, turning in her arms, “Really?” 
“Really.” Tara says, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “And I promise to keep my distance, okay babe? She can flirt until the cows come home, it’s going to fall on deaf ears.” 
She snuggles into your chest, soothing your hammering heartbeat with a kiss. 
“I love you. Only you.” 
-
True to her word, Tara goes out of her way to avoid Quinn. 
Gone are their cozy little sessions on the couch watching horror movies. Tara refuses Quinn’s cooking, turns down each of Quinn’s requests to hang out, or help her with homework, or whatever other brainless task Quinn can think of to get them to spend time together. 
The rental market is fucked, you discover in the interim. 
No way can you and Tara afford to move out, and even if Quinn did leave, it could take months to replace her. 
“No,” Mindy says, point blank when you ask her, “Not unless you and Tara swear to a vow of celibacy.” 
You sigh, unhappily. 
“Great,” You say, slumping back into your seat, “We’re going to be stuck with her forever.” 
Mindy looks over at you, taking a little pity on you. 
“Why don’t you ask Chad and Liv?” She suggests, “They won’t be able to hear you fuck over Liv’s soap operas anyway.” 
“I already asked,” You say, voice gloomy, “They’re in a two year contract.” 
Mindy shoots you a sympathetic smile. 
“You’ll find someone,” She says, “You just need to put some feelers out there.” 
And so you do. 
You spend the morning in class writing up the ad. You’ll put in the paper tomorrow, you figure. 
When you get home, ready to avoid Quinn and spend a night snuggling in bed with Tara, Tara’s already at the door. 
“Hey babe,” Tara says, bouncing up to greet you with a kiss. She smiles, lowering her voice, “Missed you. Wanna shower with me?” 
You smile and kiss her. 
“You know we can’t,” You say, regretfully, “Last time we used up all the hot water.” 
“So let’s have a cold shower,” She suggests, her smile turning into a leer, “I’ve got other ways to warm you up.” 
“Izzie, how are you? It’s been ages!” Quinn sounds from the living room. Your smile drops - you didn’t realize she was home. Tara notices your face shift, and rubs your hip, comfortingly. 
“She’s been good, babe, I promise,” Tara says, “Are you sure you don’t want to shower with me?” 
“I’ll start dinner,” You say, leaning in to kiss her quickly, “You go, baby.” 
Quinn’s in the living room, lounging across the couch when you enter. 
“Yeah, I’ve never done it before,” Says Quinn. If she’s noticed you in the kitchen, she doesn’t acknowledge you. She kicks her shoes off and lays back into the couch, twirling her hair between her fingers. 
“I just can’t stop thinking about it. You know? I really want to try it.” 
You pull a few potatoes from the bag and pull out a knife. 
Just a little while longer, you think, trying to stop yourself from glancing over. Just a few more weeks of her and then you’d never have to see her again. 
Quinn looks over, catching your eye. 
As if she can tell you’re thinking about her. 
And then, she smiles. 
“I met a guy last night, took him home because he looked a little bit like her. Dark hair, dark eyes, short.” She says, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur, “Fucked his brains out imaging it was her on top of me. Inside me. And she will be. Soon.” 
She��s looking right at you. Her voice is a low taunt, daring you to take the bait. 
And you fall for it. 
Hook, line and sinker. 
You slam the knife to the kitchen counter, cheeks flushing red. 
“That’s it,” You growl as you launch at her, “You’re fucking dead, do you hear me?” 
Quinn stares a moment, her jaw slacking. 
As if she hadn’t realized her taunting would finally come to fruition. 
In the form of you launching to grab at the end of her hair. 
You tug at it, hard, determined to make the end of your fist meet the slant of her chin. She squeals, dropping her phone as you tug her towards you. 
“YN,” She cries, “Stop it, you’re fucking crazy-” 
“You think this is funny?” You growl, letting go of her hair to shove her back against the couch. You swing at her - and miss - and you know you must look crazed. All wild eyes, red-faced, three weeks of taunting finally setting you over the edge, “ You think trying to sleep with my girlfriend is a game?” 
“Tara!” Quin screams as you launch at her once more, “Tara, help!” 
Tara’s name on Quinn’s lips - if possible, just makes you angrier. You lunge over the couch, but she stands, squealing as she ducks your advances. 
You hear the bathroom door slam, and a flash of dark hair before you turn to see Tara, soaking wet, towel pressed around her torso. Her hair is soapy with shampoo and she looks dismayed as she looks at the sight in front of her. 
Quinn screaming like a child and you feral. Grabbing for her with all your might. 
“Baby?” She says, sounding scandalized, “What are you doing?” 
Quinn lets out a sob. Teary-eyed, she barrels over to Tara and stands behind her, grabbing at Tara’s arms as if she’s her knight in shining armor. 
“She’s attacking me, Tara,” Quinn blubbers out through her crocodile tears, “Make her stop, please.” 
“Oh, give it a rest, would you?” You say, voice harsh, “Tears? Really? Why don’t you tell Tara what you were saying about her on the phone, huh? Why don’t you be honest for once in your fucking life and tell her what you’ve been trying to do this entire time.” 
“I was talking about a girl from my Chemistry class,” Quinn says, as if you’re crazy, “Her name is Charlotte, I wasn’t talking about Tara.” 
“Oh, bullshit,” You scoff, “Just admit it. You’ve been all over Tara from day one.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy bitch,” Quinn says, “Look, just because you’re insecure, doesn’t mean I’m trying to sleep with your girlfriend.” 
“Enough,” Growls Tara. She wrenches her hand away from Quinn, turning to round on her. The anger within you dissipates slightly. You swallow as you’ve realized Quinn has inadvertently awoken The Rage. 
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Tara says, her voice hot, “Don’t you fucking dare.” 
Quinn blinks at her. 
“Tara, it’s fine,” You say, hurriedly, “Babe, leave it.” 
And as much as you want to see Quinn get punched in the face, you don’t want The Rage to be the one to do it. 
You’d paid for too much therapy to see that fucker unleashed again. 
“Apologize,” Tara demands, her eyes flashing, “Apologize to her now.” 
You reach for Tara’s hand, tug her back towards you, out of Quinn’s reach. Her heart is racing,  her shoulders tight. You press your lips to her shoulder in an effort to soothe her. 
Quinn’s face contorts. You half think she’s about to spit right in your face. Maybe take a swing at you of her own. But then her face softens. 
“I’m sorry, YN,” She says, voice silky sweet, “It really was a misunderstanding. I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I was trying to take your girlfriend from you. I’m not, I promise.” 
She sounds sincere, but you see right through her. 
“Alright,” Tara says, though her shoulders are still tight, “Good. Now I’m going to finish my shower, and the two of you are not going to kill each other. Right?” 
Quinn nods, solemnly. 
“Bedroom,” You tell Tara, “Now.” 
-
“She’s going,” Is the first thing you say as Tara shuts the door. You’re pacing back and forth, your skin burning hot and red, “She’s fucking gone, Tara. I mean it this time. I don’t care if we have to sleep on Mindy’s couch for the next three years, I am not spending another second with her-” 
Tara rubs her eyes. They’re a little red, stained with unwashed shampoo. 
“Baby, why don’t you sit down for a bit?” She suggests, “Look at you, you’re all worked up.” 
You turn to stare her down, anger flashing through your features. 
“She was talking about fucking you, Tara,” You hiss, “Right in front of me. She was talking about how she wanted you inside her.” 
Tara moves a little closer, trying to touch your arm. You shake her off to continue your pacing. 
“You’re mine,” You seethe, “I don’t know what part of that is so hard for her to understand.” 
“Baby-” Tara starts. 
“You’re not talking me out of this, Tara,” You snap, “I want her gone. Tonight.” 
Tara catches your arm. She draws you in for a long kiss. 
She’s trying to settle you down. 
It works.  
“I’m yours,” She says, softly, “Like I already told you, you don’t have to worry about her.” 
“You promised, Tara,” You say, voice agonized, “You promised if she tried anything else she’d be gone. And I swear to god, Tara - if you try to take her side-“  
Tara shushes you with another kiss. 
Then she draws back, her voice soft. 
“Of course I’m not going to take her side, sweetheart,” Tara says, “I’m your girlfriend. I’m always on your side. She’s going. You don’t have to ask twice.” 
This relaxes you a little. Tara presses another lingering kiss to your lips. 
“Like hell we’re sleeping on Mindy’s couch, though,” Tara says, crinkling her brow, “Sam can lend us the money. She won’t mind.” 
Sam might mind. 
But it’s really the least of your worries. 
“Thank you,” You say, sighing as you lean into Tara’s chest. 
Tara squeezes your shoulders. 
“Let me finish my shower,” She says, “And then I’ll talk to her.” 
She eyes you, warily. 
“Maybe you should take a walk or something, babe,” She says, after a moment of hesitation. She brushes your cheek, “You’re all red in the face.” 
You frown. 
“If you think I’m leaving you here with that sexed-up-piranha-” You start with a growl, and Tara draws her arms back around your shoulders. 
“Alright, alright,” She concedes, “It’s okay, babe, we’ll do it together.” 
But by the time Tara’s out of the shower, Quinn is long gone. 
You spend the night seething, not even Tara’s gentle kisses enough to coax you out of your mood.
In the morning, you hunt through the apartment like a lion hungry for its prey but she’s nowhere in sight. 
She’s stupid enough to try you, but not so stupid enough to hang around for the fallout. 
When you head off to class, Tara reassures you with a gentle squeeze of your hand.
“She’ll be back here at some point,” Tara says, “As soon as I see her I’ll tell her to pack her bags.”
Economics flashes by in a rage-filled trance. You don’t even bother with your marketing paper. You’re worked up. 
You just want her gone. 
And so you skip the rest of your morning classes and head home.
You don’t bother smiling at the doorman, fish your keys out of your pocket in a grump. 
When you get to the door, you tilt your key in the lock, fiddling around to pry the door open. 
And then you hear it. 
A cry - it’s Tara, and then you hear Quinn. She’s squealing again. You blink. Your mind runs rampant with the possibilities. 
Tara with her knife, plowing through Quinn with the kind of ire only The Rage can bring. 
Tara grunts, and it’s familiar. Your stomach lurches. You might be sick. 
You know that grunt. 
The indicator Tara might be plowing Quinn in a much different fashion. 
Betrayal sinks deep within your veins. You fumble with the door, almost pry it off its hinges in your effort to barge through it. 
It swings open, and the lump in your throat grows with the thought of what you might find on the other side of the door. 
But what you see isn’t what you expect. 
You blink. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you. 
“Tara,” You hiss as your jaw drops, “What are you doing?” 
Tara has Quinn in a firm grip. Her legs are wrapped tight around Quinn’s waist, she has Quinn’s head between her arms in a chokehold. Quinn’s eyes are wide. She struggles desperately against Tara’s grip, eyes bulging as she tries to wrangle her way out. 
The scene in front of you would be comical, if it weren’t real. 
But it’s very real. 
Quinn looks over to you the moment Tara does. 
The sound of your voice is her escape. 
Tara turns to you, grip lessening only slightly as she realizes your presence. Her brown eyes widen, the way they do when she knows she’s in trouble. 
Quinn pulls herself out of Tara’s grip with a heavy gasp, almost shoving Tara to the floor. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Quinn says, voice high as she stands, “Are you actually serious right now?” 
“Explain, Tara,” You say, voice flat, “Now.” 
Tara looks over to you, eyes wide. She splutters as she speaks. 
“She tried to kiss me, babe,” Tara says, voice aghast, “She tried to kiss me and I didn’t know what else to do.” 
Quinn’s breathing heavily. 
She’s scary like this. Thundering over Tara’s tiny frame like she might snap her in two. 
“I throw myself at you and your first reaction is karate?” Quinn says to Tara. Her eyes are wild. She’s pissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?” 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tara fires back, “I have a girlfriend.” 
You throw your bag to the ground. The heavy, unsettled feeling that’s stayed with you for the last three weeks is boiling. If Quinn doesn’t leave now, there’s no telling what you’ll do next. 
“Get out,” You tell Quinn, “You don’t live here anymore. Get your shit and go.” 
Quinn doesn’t move. 
“Get out,” You insist, “Before I kill you myself.” 
Quinn shoots an angry look at Tara, before redirecting it at you. 
“Fine,” She says, “You two deserve each other. Fucking Jackie Chan and Princess Prissy-”
“Out.” You snap as she grabs her purse. 
She shoots you an angry glare. 
“You can forget about rent,” She sneers, “And good luck finding someone else to live in this shitty apartment.” 
Your palms are sweating as she slams the front door shut. 
Tara looks up at you, eyes still wide, a little sheepish as you close in on her. 
“I didn’t kiss her babe, I swear,” Tara promises, leaning up to grab your hands, “She leaned in and I grabbed her before she could get close.” 
“I know you didn’t, babe,” You say after a long moment. Your voice softens. You brush her dark hair out of her eyes, “I know.” 
She’s quiet a moment. 
“I’m sorry that we didn’t kick her out sooner,” She says, “I really did just think she was trying to be my friend.” 
You sigh. Tilt your face to hers. 
“I know, babe,” You say, then you snort, “I can’t believe you put her in a headlock. Sam’s going to love that.” 
Tara pouts.
“She deserved it,” She says, “And speaking of Sam…” 
She looks up at her, eyes shimmering. 
“I talked to her about the rent,” Tara murmurs after a moment, “She agreed to help us out.” 
“Oh?” You say. A spark of hope sears deep within your chest. 
Tara bites her lip, “There’s a catch, though. She’s going to come live with us until we find a new roommate.” 
“Oh.” You say with a frown. 
“You’re not mad, are you?” Tara asks, a little hesitant, “I’d tell her no, but we’re really in a pinch, babe.” 
“It’s fine,” You say, after a moment, “I don’t mind living with Sam.” 
Tara hums. She leans in close against you. 
“And hey,” You nudge her, trying to keep the mood light, “At least I don’t have to worry about Sam trying to get into your pants.” 
Tara wrinkles her nose. 
You laugh. 
Lean down to kiss her, deep. 
Fuck you Quinn Bailey, you can’t help but think. 
You hope she enjoyed her little game.
Because when it comes to Tara, you never lose.
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norrisreads · 11 months
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illicit affairs #CL16 #MS47
PAIRING: charles leclerc x ex-gf reader! mick schumacher x reader!
SUMMARY: he was once the man you’ve always dreamed of, until one day a decision made drunkenly by him made you realised you were never the chosen one
WARNING: angst + cheating, fluff at the end
masterlists
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‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
2018
being in a relationship has it’s ups and downs, not everyday is full of smiles and laughters, some times it’s deadly silence just like the situation right now between you and charles
you were in a relationship with charles leclerc eversince 2016, you’ve seen him won the formula 2 championship, jumping to formula 1, you were there when he went through hard times, there were days you had to put him over yourself and you’ve never once regretted it.
But here you are, in a relationship that’s full of rocky roads. Charles and you met through his younger brother arthur, you were just a year older than Arthur, and the both of you used to hangout at the leclerc’s apartment daily as the both of you were and still has a close friendship. Arthur had given an advice to you in the early stages of dating with his brother, an advice you should’ve listen clearly.
“i’ll pack my things later, and i’m moving out tomorrow charles” the both of you is currently in the kitchen, you sitting down sipping on your warm honey lemon tea and him just munching down on the breakfast you’ve made for him
“i’m sorry, i swear i do not know what came on to me. she just happened to be there, i should have pushed her, cherie” you heard the metal fork cling as it came in contact with the marble counter top, you refused to believe the news that was trending everywhere
Formula One driver Charles Leclerc caught cheating on his fiancé, y/n l/n last night
When you were woken up by Arthur calls, you were confused of course until you clicked on the link that was send to you from Arthur. Ironically last night, you were on the call with him frantically worrying on Charles whereabouts, other than being woken up by Arthur’s morning calls, you were greeted by the sight of Charles sprawled out on the sofa in the living room.
All the times you were asking for signs if he was made for you, and even though the news did broke your heart, it showed the truth to you and made you realise that you wouldn’t want to spend your precious moments crying and fixing a relationship that is probably isn’t even worth it anymore.
“Sorry doesn’t fix the heartache i woke up to this morning, Charles. If this relationship isn’t worth the fight for you, you could have ask for a break and not cheat on me with someone else. That is so low of you, you knew how cheating affects me, you promised you will never do what he did and here you are proving me wrong”
“i know mon cherie, i am aware and i am so sorry. all i can do right now is to apologise to you, i am so sorry. i love you, i really do. you’ll always be the person my heart beats for cherie, please listen to me” you could hear Charles footsteps approaching you
“sometimes i wish you are able to see how much i sacrifice myself for you, when you were devastated from losing races, i would drop every single thing i was doing and run to you, calm you down.” you could feel tears running down your cheeks, reminiscing the memories the both of you have made together, from bad memories to good memories
“i supported you in every races no matter how exhausted i was, i would pray everyday that you wouldn’t crash and hurt yourself or blame yourself. I had to turn down job offers because i know that i am your number one support system, and i’ll always have to be there” his hand reached yours and tightly gripping it not letting you go
“but I’m exhausted Charles, I’m exhausted that i am always the one putting so much more effort in the relationship, i know you’re fighting for your dreams but what about mine? You’ve never asked about it, i know so much of you yet you know so little of me. I’m sorry Charles, if this happened a year ago, i would have accepted you back in my life but i’m not her anymore.” you let go of his hand, walking to the sink of the shared kitchen and washed the mug
Charles of course had nothing to say because he knew how badly he has been treating you, especially when whatever you’ve spilled your hearts out were accurate, he knew too little of you.
“where are you going to stay, will you be at Arthur’s ?”
“i will crash over at Arthur’s until i found a place, you shouldn’t be concerned where i am staying, be more concerned with Arthur, he’s fuming Charles. He’s your brother, fix the relationship”
with that, you walked to the shared room and started packing your items while Charles left the house to give you space.
what Charles doesn’t know is that you had been blessed with a gift, but for now that is just for you to know.
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2021
Just 2 and a half years ago, on the 14th of February 2019, your baby girl was born into the world. Of course, Arthur, Pascale and Lorenzo knew about the pregnancy and promised to keep it a secret from him.
When you left the house, you were 2 weeks pregnant, you managed to settle in to an apartment nearby Arthur’s apartment due to safety reasons. You were glad that you’ve rarely bumped into Charles, because as of now you’re unsure if you would wanna let Charles know of the child that the both of you shared.
Pascale would constantly come over to provide assistance and you were glad she was there for you even when you aren’t apart of the family anymore.
Just a year after you’ve left, Charles had gotten in-to a relationship, Arthur would always talk to you about how she wasn’t you and it’ll end with you lecturing him on how he should’ve been happy for his brother instead of hating his relationship.
“she’s not you, y/n. she’s just so different” Arthur shouted across the living room while entertaining your daughter, Valentiné Aurore Hervé Leclerc.
Your lovely 2 and a half years old babygirl, Valentiné Aurore Hervé Leclerc, is the greatest gift to you, she was your strength and the reason you are still in this world.
Of course, you did struggled being a single parent but the support you’ve received from your family, friends and his family was never-ending.
“don’t say that thur, i’m sure she’s great and just shy. he’s happy, let him be thur” you lightly hit the back of Arthur’s head
“look baby val, your mum just hit me on the head” all val did was laughed and continued playing with the toys Enzo had gifted, with the exact same eye-smile Charles had
“would you ever let Charles know about val?” Arthur asked, taking a seat beside you
“of course, i wouldn’t mind because val deserves to know his dad too” you smiled while looking at your baby-girl playing
“though i prefer Charles to just be an uncle, rather than a dad. Furthermore she loves the existence of him, sooner or later she’s gonna call him papa”
“I’m glad you’ve found someone that truly treasure you, he’s a great person though you have to seriously stop dating drivers.”
the both of you laughed, and as you were speaking about him, you heard the keypad of your house door being key-ed in and just a minute later the door of your house opened.
“miiiiiicckkkkkkkkyyy” val dropped her toys and ran to mick.
mick placed his items on the counter top and picked up val, “how’s my favourite girl doing?” while giving kisses to your baby-girl
mick walked towards you and Arthur, “ thanks thur for your help, you’ve been nothing but nice to us”
“it’s alright mick, though i’ll prefer you to be away so val will start loving me more” arthur joked knowing before mick came into val’s life, arthur was her favourite uncle
“hello baby, I dropped by the restaurant and bought the soup that you were craving for, i hope it’s still hot though” Mick gave you a forehead kiss while holding val on the other arm of his.
Thur picked up his bags and said his goodbyes.
you are currently dating Mick Schumacher, the relationship has been since end 2020, you’ve met him when you were working at your cafe and happened to serve him and he happened to take a liking towards you. Mick knew of Charles and you history and have assured you that he does not really mind and he truly appreciate both val and you.
When val turned two years old, mick had brought her to one of val’s biggest dream place ever as all other kids calls it, Disneyland and spend the whole day with her and you’ve could see the look on val’s face that only lights up when she’s around Mick and realised that this was the man that you would want to build up your future with.
Charles knew about your relationship, with the presence of you you standing beside mick supporting him during the races.
You weren’t always there for the races but since it was mick’s first few races, you wanted it to be special for the both of you. Val was sleeping over at your best friend for the day, inviting her would’ve caused a huge mess between the both of you especially with the first glance of your daughter, anyone could tell she is related to Charles Leclerc.
Of course it was a surprise to him, leading him to text Arthur right after the both of you had a 5 minute conversation together.
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2022 MONACO GP
“okay baby, stay by mama and don’t run anywhere else okay? papa is gonna be busy for a while and you’ll able to see him on this track” you were instructing val to not run away, val has turned out to be a daddy’s girl ever-since Mick came in-to her life, being away from Mick for a few days was torture to her(us), face-timing was the usuals for the three of us.
of course, hiding val on the way to the paddock was hard enough, you had to ask gina’s help which she did assist in and came by earlier than you and Mick in order to avoid the assumptions.
“but will papa see me here? will he wave at me and you, mama?”
you’re now carrying your daughter on your other arm, while she’s fidgeting with the lanyards around her neck.
“i’m not sure baby, papa’s car pass by super fast val. they’re faster than the cars we have at home,baby”
val nods her head and snuggled her head onto your neck, signalling that she was sleepy.
“baby, you sleepy? wanna head back to the room?” she agreed as she had spend her afternoon nap being awake following Mick around everywhere.
On the way to the haas paddock club, you were on your phone, single handedly texting gina if she could bring out the blankets that was in your bag as she was still at the club waiting for Mick’s team meeting to be done.
until you bumped on-to someone, and that someone just happened to be him.
just when you’re holding your daughter, what a great timing
“mama, why stop?” Val’s rubbing her eyes wondering and snuggling back on to your neck
“a moment baby, just get back to sleeping okay?” rubbing val’s back soothing her down to get her back to sleeping.
Charles was shocked yet confused on why you’re holding a child and the said child was calling you mama. Charles knew your relationship with Mick had just been ongoing for 3 years and he knew that the little girl that you were carrying is more than 3 years old, but what he didn’t know was that the little girl on your arm was his own daughter that he had no clue off.
“y/n, you’ve never told me you had a daughter?” charles stopped in his tracks and you could see behind him was arthur and lorenzo, with a shocked face.
“oh look charles, you’re late to your team meeting. Let’s go carlos is probably finding for you” enzo distracting him, but it was no help because he was still there staring at you and your daughter.
at this point you were looking at arthur for help but from the facial expression on arthur’s you knew he had zero plans to back you up.
“yeah haha it’s something i’ve kept private” you tried to walk away but he stopped you and take a look at val’s lanyard that was around her neck.
and one thing you didn’t realise was mick had given the staffs val’s full name to print out on her paddock pass, and that is when charles realised he has a daughter.
“valentiné aurore herve leclerc?”
oh yeah we are so fuck, by we it’s lorenzo, arthur and i.
you were looking at arthur and lorenzo with wide eyes.
“the both of you are aware of this?” charles turned to both of them and questioned the both of his brothers with disbelief
“it’s not their fault, i made them promised to not tell anyone”
“why didn’t you tell me? i am her father” at this point you could see people were curious on the conversation that was happening, because why would mick’s current girlfriend be seen having an intense conversation with Charles Leclerc?
“let’s talk later, she needs her nap. i’ll come over to arthur’s apartment and explain everything ” and charles knew that tone of your voice, the one where you would always use when you’re anxious or nervous and charles agreed on meeting you at arthur’s apartment
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‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
ARTHUR’S APARTMENT
Mick knew what had happened when you bumped you onto Charles, Mick wanted to accompany the both of you to Arthur’s apartment and be there for you while you explained things to Charles, and of course you agreed.
You knocked Arthur’s door, and you were greeted by pascale.
“i’m sorry darling, I tried but he was too persistent” she apologised to you, holding your hand giving you comfort
“it’s fine, it’s time i guess” you smiled at her
when you’ve reached Arthur’s living room you could feel the tension between the three brothers, you took a seat beside Arthur and Val automatically went to Arthur’s Lap.
Mick sat beside you, rubbing your back, calming down your nerves.
“val baby, come to papa. don’t bother uncle thur” mick called out to your daughter which she listened and walked over to Mick’s lap and mick carried her to arthur’s guest room which pascale followed behind.
Charles cleared his throat, “tell me from the start”
“when we broke off and i left, i found out I was 2 weeks pregnant”
“and you didn’t think of telling me?”
“it was hard Charles, i didn’t want you to stay with me just because i was carrying your daughter”
“continue” charles head in his hand, stressing over this situation
“i kept it of course as you can see, but please don’t blame it on lorenzo and arthur. i’ve made them swore they wouldn’t tell you, i didn’t wanna ruin your career. I was gonna tell you, just not now. I was thinking of telling you when val’s gonna understand the situation more. Mick knows about us and he was there for me for everything”
“I could’ve helped you, y/n. as a friend I could’ve helped you. she has my dna, she’s mine, i deserve to be in her life too, does she know?”
“she knows her father’s absence in her life, but she doesn’t know it’s you. we’ve never really talked about it”
“why the name? why did you used my last name, if you didn’t want me to be in her life y/n?”
“She’s apart of you, of course i had to include that and she looks exactly like you, no matter how much i refuse to believe’s she from you i had to accept it”
Charles walked over and sat beside you and held your hand.
“please let me be in her life. not as a father but as someone she deserves to know. i don’t mind Mick being her father, he deserves that title, but just let me be in my daughter’s life”
you agreed to charles, because as much as you disliked Charles, you didn’t want your daughter to grow up not knowing how does her biological dad looks like and starts questioning if she ever did something wrong.
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2023
Charles took the time to get to know val more, Mick and you would allow Charles over to let him have his own time with his daughter or they would sometimes have a day to their own.
Val knew who charles were but wasn’t really keen in calling him papa, as for the past few years Mick was more of a father figure to her rather than Charles.
As much as Charles was disappointed, he understood where she was coming from but he was glad Val had accepted him in her life not as a father but as some she would like to keep close contact with.
As for you, you’ve still kept the news of you having a child private, though there were rumours speculating around which you didn’t really pay attention to but you felt that it wasn’t a need for you to go public that you had a love child with their favourite driver.
Mick’s gotten signed to Mercedes and since he was a reserve driver, he would spend most of the time at the paddock with val and val has never been much more happier being close to her papa.
She would sometimes be in the Ferrari’s building or Mercedes’. Of course other than P, and the other driver’s children’s, val is currently the favourite especially amongst Charles and Mick’s circles of friends.
You were glad that the heavy weight on your shoulders was lifted off. Though, it took you a while to let Charles know about val, it’s all sorted out and you’re glad.
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—✩࿐ end note: thanks for reading! wanted to end it off more angst less fluff but dad! mick just warms my heart, i’m still finding for good ig post templates or twitter templates! other than that, i hope you enjoyed reading! ♥️
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watsittoyah · 11 months
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Along Came A Spider…2099
Warnings-Sexual content, sex dreams, time travel, oral sex, rough sex, fang play, size kink, and slight blood play.
Chapter 1- Don’t I know you?
As you lay in the middle of your king size bed, you feel a dip by your feet. “Mi Corazon?” You hear his soft voice call out to you and you slowly stir. “Hmm?” You sit up on your elbows and see a large figure crouched at the foot of your bed.
“Baby? Did you get your food? I put it in fridge for you.” You say with a yawn as you sit up fully in the bed. He gently pushes you onto your back and he crawls between your thighs. “Thank you, Mi Corazon. I’ll get it later, I’m sorry for waking you up.” He moved one of your curls that happened to escape your scarf and tucks it behind your ear. “Issokay.” You yawn and wrap your arms around his thick waist. “Did you save some people tonight?”
He nods and leans down, sniffing your neck and resting his weight against you. You feel his arousal which wakes you up fully. “Mmm, tell me about it.” You whisper as you feel his teeth trace down your delicate throat.
“Mmm later, I promise. I just….want you, right now.” He leans up and looks at you with his pretty hazel colored eyes. You don’t argue with him, because you want him too.
It’s been three weeks since you two have had some privacy. Due to him saving people as well as being a scientist, and you starting your new job as a engineering tech. It’s been hectic. But in this intimate moment you wanted your husband.
“This is new.” He says as he looks down at your night gown. It was scarlet and a bit see through. “Do you like it? I ordered it last week.” He squeezes your perky brown breasts and sucks the left one through the thin fabric. Which tells you all you needed to know that he indeed liked the night gown.
You let out a soft moan and feel his heavy dick pressing against your now wet cunt. “M-” He stops you and leans up, so his warm body isn’t pressed against you anymore. “Do you remember our safe word?” Your husband asks as he leans back down, moving his face towards your inner thighs. You nod but he smirks in the dim moonlight. “Use your words, amor.” He says as he hands rubs your outter thighs.
You bite your bottom lip and open your legs, watching his now ruby eyes linger for a moment too long. “Spider.” You say as you lift your night gown, revealing your naked flesh to him. “Good girl.” He says as he lifts up your right leg and places it on his shoulder. He lifts your left leg, kissing your inner thigh and placing it on his other shoulder. You look down and see his pretty eyes lock onto yours.
Your pussy clenched as you see his teeth extend into fangs. You let out a groan as he runs his sharp k-9’s against your puffy lips. He uses his tongue to part your lips and as soon as his tongue dips deep inside of you, you grip your pillow.
You watch as your starving husband eats your wet pussy and you moan out into the moonlit room.
His eyes roll back as he uses his tongue and spit to edge you. Your legs begin to tense up as you rock your hips to his movements. He sucks on your clit and then he stops.
“Amor, you need to stay still. If you move too much I’ll have to pin you down so you can’t move. And I know you don’t want that.”
“W..what if I do?” You challenge him. He raises a thick brown at you and he yanks you closer to his fanged mouth. “You sure about that?” Before you could give a cocky response, his mouth had engulfed your entire pussy lips and you groan out incoherent sentences.
He slows down just enough to give you slight friction, but not enough to make you come. He flicks his tongue slowly as he watches your reactions.
“Baby, please. More.” You moan at as he lazily flicks his tongue again. “Mmm, perdoname mi Amor. But I’m going to go at my pace. I want to savor this, pretty little pussy.” He spreads your lips apart he lays his tongue flat against your swollen clit and he twirls his tongue inside of you. Your walls clench slight around it and you moan to the heavens.
Your eyes rolls to the back of your head as you reach down and grab his forearms. You hump his tongue and moan to a god who you hope isn’t listening.
You look back down at him and you see his fangs trace against your inner lips. His eyes still tracking your every movement. “Please.” You moan out as start to buck your hips. He gives a heavy sigh and with a quickness, your husband had moved his mouth away from your pussy and he had pinned you against the bed. Your front against the bed while he laid on top of you.
“I told you not to move, now you get this.” You hear his boxers being pulled down and he smacks his thick heavy dick against your ass cheeks.
If you were a form of water, you’d be a waterfall right now. You push your ass against him but he pins your lower back down. “No, no you don’t get to tease me. You just have to take this dick and use that pretty mouth of your to bite that pillow.”
He grips your throat and you let out a laugh. “Can’t I use my pretty mouth somewhere else?” You tease which causes him to use his knees to spread you apart and you feel his dick start to push through. “Ay dios mío, next time I’ll use that smart ass mouth. But for now…”
As he slides in from behind you let out a gasp and he grips your neck tighter. His dick fills you up and he hasn’t even pushed his full length all the way in yet.
“A…ay dios mío, mi amor.” Your husband grunts as he continues to slide in deeper. You groan out as he slowly thrusts up inside of you. He bites your ear and you bite down on your pillow.
God he was big and your pussy was sucking him in deep. You feel his fangs against your neck next and you moan for him to do it. “Are you sure?” He moan as he fucks you deeper. You moan out yes and you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder.
You feel the air leave your lungs for just a moment and your body is in pure ecstasy. Your husband pounds into you harder and his devilish jaw lets go. He moves your face and you taste blood on his lips.
You suck his tongue and you moan out how you’re going to come. But he doesn’t slow down. Instead he goes faster and lets his body weight hold you in place. “Come for me, come on daddy’s dick so you can suck it clean for him later.” You go to moan out your husbands name as you feel yourself about to come. “Mig-“
You jolt awake from your erotic dream, hearing construction work outside your window. You wake up wet and you look over at your phone screen to see it’s only 5am. “Fuck.” You throw your blankets off of you and you check your shorts. Sure enough you had a wet dream like some pre-adolescent boy.
You wish you knew who the hot stranger you were dreaming about but you had no idea. Which was odd, because from your psychology class, you’ve learned that the human mind is so strange that it can’t create a human face out of thin air. Which means you had to have seen the strangers face before.
You crank up the hot water in the shower and you step in not caring of the scolding water burned you or not. You take your banana milk body wash and clean between your legs. The dream flashes in the back of your mind and you lean your back against the shower wall and you let your hand cup your one of your breast. You think of how the stranger had his face buried between your legs and you use the body wash as lube.
You rub your clit thinking about your dream guy and you let out a moan thinking about his hazel eyes, his large frame. His thick d-
“Hey! Don’t use up all the hot water! Some of us have to shower and go to work!” Your roommate yells behind the door. You move your hands away like a shamed child and quickly finish up your shower.
Once you’re all dried and dressed, you make it to the kitchen to see Erica, your roommate, running around looking for her left shoe.
“Tommie? Have you see my-” Without a missed beat you point under the couch and grab your overnight oats from the fridge. “Thanks T. Oh you’re still coming out tonight right? I know you, you’ll say yes and then in the last minute you’ll make an excuse and stay in.”
You take a bite of the chocolate oats and nod slowly. Both answering her and being happy with your breakfast. “Yeah, I’m still coming. I won’t leave you hanging with Monica and Jerry.” You loved your group of friends but Monica and Jerry tend to always get Erica in trouble. But with you there, their influence won’t be an issue for her.
“Alright, remember we’re going to club Epic. I want us to get together and…” You space out as you eat your chocolate oats and your mind seems to wonder as you lick your spoon.
You think about your dream guy and you imagine your tongue on him. In his mouth, on his neck, on his chest, down his happy trail-
“Tommie!” Erica snaps her fingers in your face and you snap out of your day dream. “What?” You ask with a scowl on your face. “I asked if you could pick me up after work.”
“Yeah, at seven right?” You ask as you scrap the bottom of the jar. “Yes, look I gotta go, can you feed Milo for me?” Your roommate leaves out in a hurry and you as soon as you hear the door lock you place your hands on the counter and you let out a groan.
“Alright girl, you need to stop having these sex dreams and these sex day dream over a man who isn’t your man. He probably was some stranger you saw on the street, you just need to stop.” You tell yourself as you go and pour some food into Milo’s dish bowl. “Milo? Come eat.” You call out to the small kitten.
You know that Milo will come out to eat eventually and you get your blazer off of the coat rack. You grab your purse as well your water bottle and lock the apartment up behind you.
As you walk to the parking lot you hear your phone ringing. You answer it on the fourth ring. “Hi grandma.” You say as you cradle the phone between your shoulder and ear. “Hi, baby cakes. Remember this Friday is family dinner night.”
You press the unlock button to your car as you continue to the drivers door. “Yes grandmother, I remember because you call me every Tuesday and remind m-”
Your drop your water bottle and it rolls towards down the wall way. “One second grandma.”
You put your phone in your pocket and you take off running towards the bottle.
Before you can grab the bottle a pair of hands grab it and you have your knees on your chest. Holding up a finger. “Whew I’m outta breathe. Thank yo….you.” You stare into a pair of hazel eyes and he stares at you.
You two seem to be frozen in that moment. Your dream guy, the dream guy he’s standing right in front of you, standing at at least six foot four. Which made you feel small considering you’re only five feet.
You finally snap out of it as you hear your grandmother on your phone. You grab the phone and tell your grandmother that you’ll call her back. Once you hang up you look up at the handsome stranger as he gives you a look.
“Do I know you?” You ask him. “No, I don’t think so, but here you go.” He hands you your water bottle and as he does your fingertips lightly brush against each other and you feel a spark.
“Well, you have a nice day.” He turns and you blurt out the first thing you can think of. “I like your eyes, they remind me of caramel candies.”
Caramel candies? Tommie are you stupid?
You hear him chuckle and he turns back to you. “Thank you, it’s not everyday you get a compliment like that.” You feel your cheeks warm and you find yourself smiling wide. “My name is Tommie Valentine. What’s yours?” His eyes seem to search your face before answering. “Miguel O’Hara.” He tells you.
Strangely…you knew that. But how? From your dreams? Maybe you’ve heard it somewhere?
“Isn’t that last name Irish?” He nods as he shoves his hands in his pockets. This type of body language you take notice. Hmm he’s uncomfortable?
“It is. I’m sorry I’d love to chat but-” You shake your head. “It’s fine, I have to get to work anyways. Thank you again, and since you’re a neighbor, don’t be a stranger.”
Tommie get in the damn car and drive.
Before you embarrass yourself any further, he turns on his heel and he walks away from you. You feel a bit hurt by that. “Have a good day at work, Tommie.” Miguel calls over his shoulder. You smile again as he says your name and you can’t help but watch him walk away.
He was well built like in your dreams and you immediately think of what else is well built. You snap out of it and quickly get into your car. Hopefully you can beat Nueva York traffic this morning.
Luck must have been on your side because you make it to the building with five minutes to spare. “Miss Valentine, you’re late.” Your boss says as his back faces you in your office.
“Sir, I have…three more minutes.” You say checking your watch. He turns to you and you feel like a spanked child by the way he is narrowing his eyes at you. “You are late, when my calls haven’t been answered, the coffee hasn’t been made, and my paper work hasn’t been prepped. I advise you to come in earlier. Now be sure to push my meetings back for the hour.” Mr. Stark says as he walks past you.
You fake a smile and give him a yes in response. As soon as he leaves you flip him off and toss your things down. “God Howard Stark is a pure asshole.” You mutter as you get ready for work.
Working as Howard Starks Assistant should be a dream come true, but he always felt entitled to every second of your time. Last year he made you come in on your birthday just so he can have you polish his golf equipment.
The pay was at least good enough to suffer through this until you could find another job in possibly technology engineering.
You look over at your window and you take a deep breathe. Nueva York was so pretty during this time of morning. The skyline had hints of orange, gold and red in it. The city was rough but it still had its hidden gems in it…
As you get the flow of things you glance at the clock and see it’s close to noon which means Mr. Stark will be wanting his noon day coffee. As you leave your office you see Gregory, the sweet old security guard by the elevators. “Miss Valentine.” He says with a nod of his hat.
“Hello, Gregory. I’m heading out for coffee. Would you like anything?” He shakes his head. “No ma’am I’m fine.” But you know him. “I’ll bring you back a vanilla cake pop with a small black coffee.” He gives you a gentle smile. “Thank you.”
About ten minutes later you leave the building and wait to cross the street so you can go to the local coffee bean shop.
As you wait, you hear your phone ringing. You look at the screen and see it’s Erica. As you go to answer it, you feel someone standing a bit too close to you.
When you look back you see a shaggy looking man. He gives you a smile and his front teeth are missing. “Hey pretty lady.” He says which makes you want to shrink back from him. You see the cross sign and you makes haste and cross.
But not without some confrontation. “I said hey.” The shaggy man said as he grabbed your wrist. You snatch back from him. “Don’t touch me.” You snap at him. Which causes a rise out of him.
“Oh someone is feisty. I like little chocolate things like you. Come here, lemme just-”
“Hey!” A voice says causing the man to look behind him. You take that chance and you go inside of the coffee bean. You shake off the encounter and get in line.
There was only five people ahead of you so you look back at your phone and see Erica left you a text.
I think I’ve met the man of my dreams-Erica
You roll your eyes because you know Erica falls in love every day of the week.
Oh? Do tell.
You reply back.
As you see her typing, the line starts to move fast.
He’s this cute nerdy looking white boy. His name is Dennis and he is an oral hygienist. Girl he asked me out for Friday! I am in love 😍
You laugh at what your love bound friend had sent you and you think for a second.
You met the man of your dreams, well sort of. He seemed like you’ve met him before but where you wonder.
“Excuse me miss?” You snap out of your thoughts and see it’s your turn to order. “Oh sorry about that.” You order the usual for Mr. Stark as well as something for Gregory and you get yourself a simple chai latte.
Once the total is given you pay and wait by the pick up area. As you wait you go to reply back to Erica.
I’m happy for you! Just make sure when you go on that date, send me your location and bring your mace.
She gives a reply and you’re about to read it but you glance up and you see Miguel. He seems to search the room and his hazel eyes land on you.
However he gets in line and you fix your curls and blazer. “Tony?” The barista calls out. “It’s Tom-you know what never mind.” You accept your order and Miguel stands besides you.
“Fancy meeting you here.” You say with a breathy smile. He nods and grabs his drink. “I happen to be in the area. And you?”
“I work at Stark Tech. Well I’m Mr. Stark’s assistant.” You tell him as you two start to walk out. He holds the door for you and he follows you outside.
“Do you like your job?” Miguel asks as you wait to cross the street. “I…do.” He gives your a raised brow. “Really?” You let out a breath. “Honest truth? I want to work in tech engineering. My dad, he use to work for his own company but it went bankrupt and you know things happen. I want to revive that for him and I want to build better things for the world. I know I can do it. I have the capability and the drive. I just need…someone to believe in me and I don’t have that. I know my friends and grandparents all say they believe in me but I can tell they don’t. The look in their eyes tells me all the time.”
“I believe in you.” Miguel says to you. You look into his eyes and right there you know, he’s telling the truth. Your foot clips under you and you feel yourself about to fall but Miguel yanks you into his chest and you can’t help but stare.
“You know if you keep getting yourself into these bad situations I’m going to need to become your bodyguard.” Miguel says as he stares down at you. You suck in your bottom lip and press your breasts against him, hoping he feels how hard your nipples feel through your white bodycon dress.
There is sexual attraction between the two of you that isn’t hard to deny. He clears his throat and lets you go just when the cross walk sign indicates it’s safe to walk.
You take a step back from him and cross the street feeling a bit embarrassed by your behavior. As you get across the street with him you see in the reflection of the building that Miguel was staring at your hips and ass.
Which caused a smirk to crawl across your glossed lips. You turn on your heel, almost catching him still staring at you. “Are you busy tonight?” You ask him. He seemed to be taken aback by your question. “No…why?”
“My friends and I are going out tonight. To this place called Club Epic. And since you’re new I’d figured you want to go. If you don’t want to then-”
“I’ll be there. What time?” You tell him to be there around nine and he nods. “How about we exchange numbers, just incase plans change.” Miguel hands his phone over to to you, unlocked and you key in your number. You put your name in as well and call yourself so he has your number as well.
When you hand the phone back Miguel was eyeing you up and down, which made you nervous. “You know in this light your eyes look kind of red.” You comment. He immediately shuts his eyes and turns on his heel. “I’ll see you later. Stay out of trouble, amor.”
Did you say something wrong for him to leave so abruptly?
••••
You were in your closet looking for something to wear. So far half of your closet was on your floor. Erica came to your door and paused. “Damn, what are you doing? Trying to dress the whole neighborhood?”
You ignore her and go to the back of your closet. “So remember how I said I invited someone to the club with us? Well he is extremely cute, and I want to find the perfect outfit to wow him.”
“Oh! The guy! Okay, well why don’t you go for the classic black dress?” Erica suggests. “I was going to do that but I want to wear something red. I don’t know why but I feel like that’s his favorite color.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“No, look just help me.” You pull out a red two piece suit and she shakes her head. “This is the club, not one of your stuffy business meetings. Oh! This! This will make him stare.” She shows you a form fitting cocktail dress and you make a face.
“I haven’t worn that in like three years. It might not even fit me now.” Erica sucks her teeth at you and throws the dress at you. “Go try it on now.” You go to protest but just go and try the dress on.
As you pull off your t shirt and sleep shorts, you drop them onto the floor and you take the dress and you slide it on.
It was a bit tight in the hips area but other than that it fit you perfectly. As you look at yourself in the mirror you pat your small tummy pouch and look at your cellulite covered thighs.
You had a cute shape but you tried to avoid wearing outfits like this. Only because they show every flaw you felt you had.
Erica had barged into the bathroom and she smiled like a Cheshire Cat. “Damn little mama, you got a boyfriend cause if you do, I know he be eating you every night!” You turn to her and laugh.
As the both of you wipe the tears from your eyes, you see her looking at her phone. “They’re leaving their place now. We gotta hurry up.” You both go back to getting ready and you decided on putting your hair up. As you do you notice two small dots on the side of your shoulder. They look like bite marks, which you know wasn’t there yesterday.
As you go to touch it, you think of your dream about Miguel biting your shoulder and you snap your hand away.
What was that?
You shake out of it and decide to put a bit of concealer on your bite mark as you finish up.
Once your heels are on and your lip stick is in place, you and Erica both head out the door…
••••
It’s been forty-five minutes and you feel nervous about your outfit choice. You tug at the hemline and Monica was coming back with drinks. “You look gorgeous.” Jerry compliments as he accepts his drink first. “Thank you.” You say as you accept your drink next.
“Tommie, where is this guy?” Erica asks as you scan the crowd. “He’s just running a little late.”
“Well I don’t know about the rest of you but I need to go out there and shake a lil sumn’. Jerry come on, I see a few guys eyeing us and I want to leave here with some digits.” Monica says as she throws her shot back and grabs Jerry’s hand onto the dance floor.”
Erica had sat with you and you check your phone again. There was no messages. Maybe he isn’t going to show.
“T, you’ll be okay right here right? I see Nikki over in the corner. I’ll be right back, really quick.” You put on a brave face and nod. “I’ll be fine. Trust me. Go.” Erica leaves you at the table and you look back at your phone.
You decide to text him.
Hope you still can make it, I’m just sitting close to the bar. I’m wearing a red dress.
You press send and you nurse your vodka and coke. “Anyone sitting here?” You turn and regret it instantly because it’s just a random guy trying to talk to you.
“I’m saving this table for my friends.” You tell him. “I can be your friend then, gorgeous. My name is Nathan.” You sigh because you don’t want to talk to this guy. “Nathan, let me just stop you right there. I’m sorry I’m not interested. And I’m not looking for anymore friends.”
“Well that’s too bad because I wanna be your friend. What’s your name?” He slides in next to you and just when you’re about to open your mouth to curse him out. When you feel someone standing behind your chair. You look up and you see him.
“Hello, amor.” Miguel’s hazel eyes seem to glow in the dim club lights. “Hi.” You forget about the creep and Miguel leans over your chair, in a way that makes him look like he’s about to pick you up out of your chair and take you away from all the chaos.
“Excuse me, we were talking.” Nathan tries to cut in. “Looks like to me, she was just leaving. Puedo tener este baile, mi amor?” You accept his hand and he starts to take you onto the dance floor.
“Hey!” Nathan stand up and when he sees Miguel’s full height he backs down a bit. Miguel smirks at Nathan and he takes you away from him and he brings you to the center of the dance floor.
Jungle from H.E.R plays and he pulls you close to him. You look up at him and in your mind no one else was in the room with you two. “Siento llegar tarde. Something came up.”
“It’s fine, really. I’m just happy you came at all.” You say as your sway your hips to the music. “Why wouldn’t I come? I wanted to see you.” He says as he looks down at you with kind eyes.
You swallow hard and lean your head against his chest. You close your eyes and for some reason this feels familiar to you. Like you’ve danced with him before.
When you look up at him again, you go to speak but your tongue felt like it was stuck at the roof of your mouth. “Red is a beautiful color on you. And it’s my favorite color.” Miguel comments as he spins you slowly and pulls you back.
“Thank you.” Is all you can say as you rock to the beat with him. He smelled so good, and his black button down seemed to hug him right across the chest. You start to wonder how he looks out of the shirt. Maybe how he looks in your dreams?
This man has haunted your dreams and now he is in front of you. You stop moving and just stare at his eyes. “Can I just…?” You get on tippy toe and he leans down. Your eyes flutter closed and you feel his cool breathe against your lips.
Shit even his breathe is attractive.
You feel his lips about to touch yours but you feel a harsh push and cold liquid on the front of your dress.
Your eyes snap open and you see a girl drunkenly dancing. You move back and Miguel helps you off of the dance floor. He leads you to the bar and gets you some napkins to get what smells like tequila, off of you.
“I’ll be right back.” Before Miguel could reply to you, you were already heading to the bathroom. You get inside and as you run the cold water, you glance at your dress in the mirror and you feel angry.
Why did that drink have to spill on you in front of Miguel? Why did that creep have to come and talk to you? You wanted to look perfect for Miguel. You wanted this night to be perfect for Miguel. You feel yourself starting to hyperventilate so you hold onto the sink.
You hear a gentle knock to the door and without opening your eyes you call out to whomever was behind the door. “Someone is in here.” You let out a breathe and use the sink water to dab the dress off a bit.
The knocking happens again and you narrow your eyes at the door. “I said someone is in here.” You call out again but they just didn’t get the hint.
So you toss the wet napkins into the trash can and you yank the door open ready to tell the impatient knocker to fucking stop. But your words die slowly when you see Miguel making his way into the small bathroom with you.
Without breaking eye contact he locks the door behind himself and looks you over. “Are you okay? You looked stressed and I wanted to check on you.”
You turn away from him and face the mirror. His eyes find yours and you let your eyes drop to the sink as you scrub the dress. “I’m fine.” You lie. “Tommie? Amor look at me.” The base in his tone made you stop what you were doing and meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Are you okay?” He leans in so he’s trapped you against the sink and his body. Now that’s you’re alone with him, you feel nervous and horny.
That’s crazy right? Feeling as if you know this complete stranger, and wanting him to grip your hair and fuck you till you can’t use your legs properly.
This is crazy.
“I’m fine.” You lie again, swallowing hard. Miguel’s eyes seem to darken a bit as he nods. “Hmm, if you say so. But I think you’re stressed out…and nervous.” His voice drops down to a whisper and you can’t help but feel his warm body heat radiating off of him. “I…I’m not nervous.” You stutter out to him.
“Are you sure about that, amor? I think you’re nervous.” Miguel was tracing a finger down your arm which gave you goosebumps. “What makes you say that?” You ask as you squeeze your thighs together.
“Well I am a highly intelligent man, and when I was in college, I had studied human behavior. For example, you’re biting your bottom lip and gripping the sink, which shows me you’re nervous. You would rather stay in this very room and not go back out there, because of the embarrassment….” He eyes trails down to your backside and when his eyes meet your again, they look ruby red.
“…But you’re also squeezing your inner thighs together, and that didn’t happen until I got close to you….do I make you nervous, Tommie?” He asks as he presses his front close to your ass.
You can feel he’s hard and you accidentally let out a moan. “N..no.” You lie again. He simply tsks and he lets his hand travel into your messy updo. “Don’t lie to me, mi corazón. Tell the truth and maybe…I can help you relax.” He gently tugs your head back so your neck is exposed in the mirror.
The slight pain feels good to you and you swallow hard. “Maybe a little.” You tell him. His ruby eyes looks directly at your breasts that are spilling out of the top of your dress and he pulls it down. You feel his dick throb against your ass and you test it by back up against him.
“No hagas eso, amor. O te devoraré. Do you want that? Do you want me to devour you right here?” He asks as his lips press against your neck.
“God, yes please.” You beg. Your eyes flutter close as he squeezes and massages your breasts. “Put your hands on the mirror and make sure you don’t get too loud.” He whispers against your ear.
You open your eyes and in the mirror you see this man get on his knees for you. You look back but he shakes his head. With his finger he motions you to turn around. You do as you’re told and he rubs his large palms across your ass.
“You are a goddess you know that, right? You are the definition of beauty.” He whispers as he lifts your dress, letting the cool air of the bathroom caress your exposed thighs and ass.
His fingers hook around the band of your panties and he pulls them down to your ankles. He bends you over so that your cunt was exposed to him.
This should be embarrassing but it was erotic and you wanted this man to see all of you. You feel his lips kiss your thighs and you hear the buckle to his belt. Which made your walls clench.
You wanted to peek and see what he was doing but that thought gets interrupted when you feel his tongue lick from the hood of your clit all the way to your ass. You sag against the sink and watch your own eyes roll back as Miguel palms you open and continues to lick you out.
You moan out to him and feel your legs turn into jello. “Baby…don’t stop.” Your dreams couldn’t compare to this moment. Miguel’s nose rubs against you which causes you to arch your back and slowly fuck his mouth.
“Just like that, amor. Fuck my face, just like that.” He moans out as you get a death grip on the sink. He flicks his tongue deep inside of you and you bite your lip hard as you feel yourself getting close to the edge.
He sucks your clit and rubs your asshole at the same time which causes your walls to clench. “Mmm, don’t hold back, amor. Come for me. Come all over my face so I can drink you up.” You let out another moan as he flicks his tongue faster. “Don’t stop, jus…just like that.” Your body tensed up as he doesn’t slow down. He keeps up with his pace and you let out a whimpering moan as you feel your cum drip down his face.
He holds onto your hips and sucks you deep. You collapse but Miguel grabs you before you fall and he turns you around. You grab him close by his shirt and kiss him.
He holds you and you taste yourself on him. As you slide your tongue into his mouth you feel something sharp and it cuts you.
You pull back from him and you feel the small cut on your tongue. “Ouch.” You comments as you turn your head slightly and look in the mirror. You glance at Miguel in the mirror and you jump.
His eyes were blood shot. His mouth looked devilish and his demeanor made him look like a predator. He looked like a monster. When you turn back to him, he had moved away from you and when you reach for him he jerked away from you.
“I’m sorry, I need to go.” And just as fast as he came in was just as fast when he left. You fixed yourself quickly and called out to him. “Miguel! Miguel wait!” You try to catch up to him but he was quick and he was gone.
Leaving you wondering what did you do wrong?
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nathaslosthershit · 2 months
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Unremarkable (LN4)
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(Part 2 of the Blind Items series)
Summary: Blind Items returns again to ruin yet another happy couple's peace. This time, Lando Norris and his ‘unremarkable’ girlfriend.
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“Lando, have you seen this?” his girlfriend asked, showing him the tweets. When they had soft launched, she got a small dose of what it would be like to be the WAG of Lando Norris. But even when they hadn’t known anything about her, some people still had been so mean. Now that they knew she had a ‘commoner’ job, they had started tearing her to shreds. ‘How could someone so rich and famous go for such a plain girl’ was what so many people had said. 
“Oscar showed it to me today. I am so sorry, honey, I was hoping that you wouldn’t have seen it. Those people are absolute asses, love.” He probably should have said something earlier but he knew how hard she would take it. While she had joked in the past about the differences in their jobs, especially the pay, he knew she felt insecure about it at times. 
“The thing is, I didn’t see it. Not at first. I only saw it when I heard one of my students talking about it in class today. Can you even imagine how humiliating that was for me? Hearing my own students who I have done nothing but be kind and understanding to, trying to get them to love learning, talk about how awful it is their favorite driver is dating someone as boring as a teacher.” She couldn’t stop the tears as she went on about the situation. He wouldn’t understand, he couldn’t. She knew Lando had his moments of insecurity but nothing like this. At the end of the day, he still had hundreds upon thousands of fans who loved him immensely. 
Even if he couldn’t fully understand, it still broke his heart seeing how much it hurt her. Sure, he hadn’t ever thought he would date a school teacher either, but that was mostly due to his previous lack of appreciation for school. But being with her has changed that. His girlfriend could always make things interesting. She loved to spout history facts on vacation and it always made him so deliriously happy to see how giddy she was to learn new things. 
Seeing her now though, so visibly upset made him realize this wasn’t something that could slide easily. His PR team might not love it but he wasn’t going to just sit there and let her feel terrible about herself.
“I’ll fix this, I promise.” He said quickly as he left. He shouldn’t have left her alone and crying, but he was fuming and decided he needed that anger to let his message out. 
landonorris
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Liked by oscarpiastri and 153,137 others
landonorris I don’t know who this gossip page thinks they are but the last thing I will tolerate is someone hiding behind a screen telling the entire world that my girlfriend, who I love more than life itself, is ‘dull’ and ‘unremarkable’ because of her job. This is a woman who is smarter than 99% of the people I have ever interacted with, someone who spends so much of their time trying, and succeeding, to get kids to love learning. Even as someone who didn’t appreciate school as much as they should have, I would never have once thought school teachers were any of the negative things you have said. Luckily, here I am, happy with my amazing girlfriend who deserves the entire world, and I know I will spend the rest of my life trying to give it to her. 
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A few minutes later she came into the room, tears still staining her cheeks.
“Thank you Lando” she said as he motioned for her to sit on his lap. 
“I can say more if you want? I definitely think I could have cursed them out mor-” He was cut off with a kiss. The sheer force of it caused them to bump heads a little, which then caused them to break apart giggling. “I’m serious about what I said. I don’t know what I did to get someone as wonderful as you but I am not going to let some assholes on the internet make you upset over something so incredible. You should be proud of what you do and I will forever work to remind you of how amazing you are.”
“I love you, Lando” was all she replied.
“I love you more”
“Please can we not play this game you know I love-”
“Nope, la-la-la-la I can’t hear you over the sound of me loving you soooo much” He said as he covered his ears.
Such a dork, she thought.
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loveshotzz · 11 months
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bouncer!steve x fem!reader steve’s night.
🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby.🎵
summary: You’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. Turns out he’s not very good at his job.
word count: 13.6k
warnings: 18 + 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.
authors note: It’s finally here! Part two of Whatta man! Steve’s night. You don’t have to read Eddie’s Night to read this one, I just think it’s more fun if you do 😉 There’s LOTS of bartender!eddie in this fic if you miss him though. (he’s your bff) This part has been a long time coming (since march lol) and I’m so happy to finally share this with you. Thank you to all of my friends who have had to listen to me talk about this for months and all of you guys who have sent me asks about our favorite boys at the foxy lounge! I wouldn’t of been able to do this with out your endless support, and excitement for this little world. Thank you, ily forever 💗
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The perks of moving into the apartment that presides above The Foxy Lounge were vast for a single girl like yourself, but the perks of becoming friends with the bartender that worked there seemed to make them endless. 
Memorized orders and free drinks when he was feeling nice (which he almost always was), he wore the crown of wingman of the century with pride, Eddie always made sure you had a good time. It was days like today that were your favorite though, heading home from a shitty morning shift at work, you weren’t surprised when you tugged on the front door an hour before open and it wasn’t locked. The annoyed look on his face told you he wasn’t either. An irritated groan leaves his chest at the carelessness of the owner and your landlord before popping the caps off two beers with ease. The loud clink of metal to glass echoes in the empty bar, as he flips his bottle opener between his fingers like muscle memory stuffing it in his back pocket.
“He’s gonna get us robbed one day, and I’m just gonna take my favorite bottle for damages and let them have the rest at this point.” His smile shows the lack of truth behind his words when you sit in the stool in front of him.
“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.”  Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.
The beginnings of a relaxed sigh start to push past your lips when the jarring sound of his rings slapping against the wood of the bar to the tune of a drum roll has you tense right back up. You’re unable to stop the slam of your beer before deadpanning, “you know I hate when you do that-“
“My best buddy Steve starts tomorrow night, I finally got Rick to say yes.” Eddie’s excitement has him vibrating when he cuts you off to tell you the news of the latest Foxy Lounge employee. “You’re gonna have such a crush on him. I’m calling it now.” The smirk on his face and the arch of his brow dare you to challenge him as he leans forward into your space.
Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle. 
“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.
Eddie knew your type better than anyone else. Watching the men and sometimes women you’d bring upstairs weekend after weekend. He had you pegged and the Cheshire smile on his face told you he knew it too.
“I can hear it now.” He changes the pitch of his voice so it sounds like a bad version of yours before he continues with an exaggerated batting of his lashes, “Oh Eddie, Steve is just so dreamy. Do you think he thinks I’m cute? Will you talk to him? Come on Eddie!”
“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.
“I don’t think that's a nice way to treat the guy who not only didn’t kick you out but also gave you a free beer before we opened, sweetheart.” His dimpled grin and perfect smile almost has your stomach in butterflies.
“I basically live here, besides your boss is the one who left the door unlocked. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re upping your security around here,” you tease, gulping down the rest of the beer before sliding the empty bottle over. 
“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.” 
Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.
“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”
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The pink fluorescent lights of the Foxy Lounge sign that hangs outside your window paints your studio in a blush tinted glow. It bleeds through the sheer floor length curtains, softening its harshness in a way that you liked. The darkness outside always makes it shine brightest around this time, a constant fight with your overhead lamp before bed. Your eyes catch the glaring red numbers on your clear digital clock reading 8:45pm.
Shit. You’re late.
No Doubt’s I’m Just A Girl plays loud enough through your boom box speakers to drown out the murmurs of the bar downstairs that spill through the slight crack in your bedroom window. You finish the last touch ups to the bubble gum colored gloss that coats your lips, smacking them together loudly. You give yourself a sweet smile in the mirror before fluttering your lashes for good measure. The finishing touch.
Finally feeling ready enough to leave, you adjust the black velvet choker around your neck with lavender painted nails. They highlight the lime green tube top that wraps around your chest as you pull at your black maxi skirt that sits above your hips hugging your curves just right.
You give yourself one last once over while you slip on your clunky Steve Madden slides, telling yourself the whole time you didn’t get all done up for the new bouncer. Instead you tell yourself it’s because you want to get lucky with the guy that invited you to get last minute drinks conveniently at the bar you above.
Turning around to give your studio apartment the safety check, you shuffle over your baby blue carpet with loud clacks from your sandals to hurriedly straighten your pink comforter and snuff out your incense. Grabbing your bag, you rush out with a flip of the light switch, only getting two steps away before having to pop back in to grab your keys hanging by the door.
The platforms on your slides are heavy as you make your way down the staircase, the narrow hallway bouncing your steps off the walls despite the cushion of the ugly brown carpet. One hand on the banister and the other dragging along the wall for balance, you pick up your pace barreling towards the door. Pushing it open with more force than normal, you hit something on the other side, hard.
An oof and the sound of plastic skidding across the sidewalk is followed by the crash of a stool that must’ve belonged to whoever was sitting on it. Stepping onto the pavement with a clack from your sandals, you stop in your tracks when you see his broad shoulders first. Bent over, you watch him collect what looks like an orange Tamagotchi, stuffing it quickly in his back pocket before brushing the dust off his dark denim clad thighs. The way he fills his jeans has your mouth dry up and his muscles flex under the black cotton shirt that wraps tight around his torso, the seams barely containing what’s underneath. Turning around he runs a big hand through his honey colored locks that stop just below his ears, pushing the fly aways from his face while the shine of the street lamp highlights his cheekbones and sharp jaw.
God you hated when Eddie was right.
Hazel eyes rake over your form while yours follow the freckles that run along his neck that lead to small moles placed like a cluster of stars along his jaw. His chiseled nose runs down a narrow line with lips tinged pink like his cheeks. The expression on his face going from irritated to flirty in a matter of seconds flat, the whites of his teeth showing when he gives you an easy smile.
“I’m - oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m running late and no one is ever sitting there and I - Are you okay?” Talking a mile a minute, you hate that he has your nerves getting the best of you.  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raising his hands up to stop you, the press of your thighs is instant when you see the silver band wrapped around the thickness of his middle finger. “No apologies necessary, it was an accident, honey.”
The endearment leaves his mouth while his lips turn his smile crooked, and it makes you dizzy. Bending down to grab the stool off the ground, a matching chain slips out from under his shirt and the glow above gives you a glimpse at the patch of thick chest hair hidden from sight.
“Besides, it’s not the first time a pretty girl has knocked me on my ass.” Folding his arms across his pecs, he leans against the brick of the bar crossing his legs at the ankles. The black boots that cover his feet look big and menacing despite his disposition.
Biting your bottom lip into a smile, you look up at him through shy lashes and you swear you hear him sigh at the sight.
“Well as long as you’re okay-“
“Steve,” he offers his name with a flash of his teeth again, a spark lighting in his eyes when he sees the way you react to it.
“Well you’ll probably see my face around here a lot,” you say, doing your best to ignore the way your cheeks burn.
“I sure hope so.” Pulling a toothpick out of his back pocket, he slides it between his lips. Jaw clenching when he bites down on the wood while his eyes roam your curves again before offering you another grin.
It makes you do one thing a man has never made you genuinely do. You giggle. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you hardly recognize yourself anymore.
“I was gonna say, 'cause I live upstairs.” Your voice is sweet despite the roll of your eyes, his jaw clenches against the wood. He liked that.
He only breaks his stare to follow the path of your finger, his eyes lingering on your open window for a second before bringing all his attention back on you. The tension grows even thicker when he kicks off the wall, realization hitting him. The soles of his boots are loud against the pavement when he closes the distance between you with two long strides. Getting close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, and the expensive cologne that lingers on his bronzed skin, you forget all about your date waiting for you inside. 
“Eddie’s told me all about you.” Using the tip of his tongue, he pushes the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his smirk telling you all you need to know.
“That’s funny, Eddie’s told me about you too,” you lick your lips, tasting the fruit of your gloss as you look up at him from under hooded shimmering lids, “Steve.”
He inches just a little closer to teeter on the edge of what’s appropriate before responding, “Oh yeah? Did you like what you heard baby?”
His smile is as sinful as it is blinding. A darkened gaze locked on yours as he pulls the tooth pick out his mouth letting the sharp end snag his bottom lip before stuffing it in his back pocket again.
The electricity in the air sparks and fizzes, standing close enough to see the freckles that line his nose and the specks of glitter smattered in a similar pattern on your cheeks. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Raising an eyebrow, your response has him sucking his teeth before rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek accepting your answer with a nod of his head.
Pulling out a small red flashlight with a soft click of the button at the end, white light floods the dark. The beam roams over the expanse of your body with a purposeful path before stopping at his outstretched hand.
“I.D.?” Amusement evident in his voice, he wiggles his fingers at you keeping up with his charade. The motion daring to make a mess of your underwear.
You try to cover up your laugh with a fake scoff, making it come out loud enough for him to snort. Your lips twitch as you try to fight the losing battle with the smile threatening to break across your face. 
“What? I need to be careful here sweetheart. It’s my first night, I gotta make sure you’re really who you say you are, and not just some pretty girl trying to flirt her way inside.” He keeps the perfect poker face while he tuts at you to hurry up for the invisible line behind you.
“Would it have worked?” you ask handing him your driver’s license, wincing internally at the picture he is about to see.
Brushing his fingers against yours when he takes it for closer examination, he huffs out a laugh before looking down at you with a smug grin.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He winks like an expert before making a big show of bringing your ID close to his face like it might be a fake.
Tsking to himself as he reads it over, he peeks over at you with a sly smirk. “A whole year older than me. Good for you, I like older women.”
Closing the space that developed when you had to dig in your purse, you snatch the plastic out of his hand, relishing in the way his breath hitches because of it. “I’m shocked you can read Steve, Eddie’s taste can be a bit…shoddy.”
“I think I’m pretty good at it actually, I’m good at reading a lot of things.” Ignoring your jab he’s quick to regain his confidence. “Things like, I don’t know, body language.” The spice of the cinnamon returns when he pulls out his toothpick again. He flashes you his pearly whites when he bites down, keeping his eyes locked on yours, a silent dare to prove him wrong.
Like magnets finding each other, the toes of his boots brush against your sandals. When did he get this close again?
Mariah Carey’s Fantasy cuts off any witty response that sits on the tip of your tongue as the bar door creaks open, rudely snapping you both back to reality. A boy who looks barely above the legal age is the culprit for popping your bubble, stopping dead in his tracks when the flirting bouncer’s attention redirects itself to where it should be. You already miss it.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, punk.” Grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt, he mutters a ‘shit’ under his breath. 
You take a step back, your eyes meeting Eddie's from inside, the commotion catching his and a few other patrons' stares, including your date.
Oh yeah, you had a date.
“I’m gonna need to see some I.D.” Steve’s voice drops deeper after he clears his throat, if his tamagotchi didn’t beep right after, signaling it’s need to be fed it would’ve been more intimidating. Your own digital pet buried at the bottom of your bag probably doing the same, already reborn fresh this morning from forgetting it at home while at work the night before.
“Umm, you see, I left my wallet at home,” the kid starts to stammer, the metal of his braces showing when he gives the bouncer a nervous grin.
Almost forgetting he had an audience, Steve’s eyes meet yours, softening before that million dollar smile takes over his handsome face.
“You’re free to go in. You know where to come when you wanna talk about all those things you liked hearing about me.”
Your stomach flutters despite the roll of your eyes at his words and you're reminded crossing the threshold that you’re here to meet another man, already scolding yourself for not taking Eddie’s warning seriously.
“I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you, Steve?” You linger in the door frame, looking at him from over your shoulder, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“You already know the answer to that, gorgeous.” His toothpick switches sides again before finally going back to doing his job, tugging the kid closer.
“I.D. or no entry dick head.”
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Despite there being no line outside, the bar was pretty full. The low buzz of conversation before the drinks really start to hit filling the crowded space. Mariah finishes her last high note when your eyes connect with Eddie’s before meeting Devin’s. He’s dressed like Danny Tanner and it makes you cringe. Pushing up his wire frame glasses, he waves so eagerly the Salmon’s that cover his dress shirt look like they're swimming in the background rapids with the movements of his arm. He’s completely oblivious to Eddie mocking him behind his back, mouthing ‘DORK’ with a shit eating grin before finally attending to the girl with smeared makeup that had been desperately trying to get his attention from the other end of the bar.
You take a deep breath, readjusting the strap of your bag before you push your chin up making your way over. Determined to have a good time, you put on your best face, returning his wave with forced enthusiasm while Steve’s smile etches itself into your memory permanently.
Paula Abdul’s Vibeology starts pumping through the speakers around you, the sticky floor vibrating with the bass under your sandals as you sway your hips to the beat. He stands up when you approach his spot at the bar and you notice his button up is tucked into mustard colored corduroy slacks, and it makes you miss the tight fitting denim of the man outside even more. Shaking your head to try and get rid of all the thoughts swirling in your head about the guy you weren’t on a date with, you desperately try to match Devin’s excited energy when he opens his arms for a hug.
“I was starting to get worried you were standing me up.” He laughs nervously as you tuck yourself into his chest. Your eyes peek over his shoulder meeting Eddie’s again as he slides your favorite drink over (tequila and pineapple), and god you wish you hadn’t.
Wiggling his eyebrows, you flip him the bird behind Devin’s back watching the bartender pretend to catch it and put it in his pocket making your eyes hit the back of your skull.
“No, sorry, I just lost track of the time.” Not a total lie you leave out the fact that you forgot about him completely just a few minutes ago. Pulling away, you avoid his eyes, too scared they’ll give you away.
“All is forgiven, pretty lady.” He bows slightly, and you have to ignore the way Eddie snorts as he walks past with hands full of Miller Lite.
“You’re so sweet,” cringing at how fake your voice comes out but Devin doesn’t seem to notice as you both take your seats, knees barely touching between the space of the stools.
“Thanks for agreeing to drinks tonight, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t know, w-with office etiquette a-and all,” stuttering, his nerves get the best of him. He tries to hide it behind a sip of his beer.
“No, I’m, I’m glad you did,”you lie, your eyes flicking to the door one more time before grabbing your drink. An awkward silence settles between the two of you as you press your lips to the rim to slurp at the top to prevent any spill over.
God, you already want this to be over.
The conversation does get easier after your first drink, the flirting a little less forced as your hand finds its way to squeeze his thigh when you laugh at something he says that’s only half funny. Choking on the foam from his beer from your sudden touch, he wipes his mouth bashful from his outburst. Eddie murmurs a “go easy on him tiger” when he gets you a refill, earning him your bratty tongue. 
“So you transferred here last year from Portland, right Devin? What’s it like over there?” Resting your chin on your knuckles, you look up at him from under your lashes enjoying the way it makes his breath catch.
“It was- It was a lot different from here…”
Finally on your A game, you try not to pay attention when the front door opens behind your date. It’s to no avail when you catch his figure in your peripheral and you can’t fight it anymore. All the progress you’ve made going out the window when Steve makes his first reappearance since your arrival. 
Toothpick replaced with what looked like Big Red chewing gum, his hazel eyes scan the crowd before landing on you. The smirk that you’d been trying to forget tugs at the corners of his lips, and any luck that Devin might have had with you tonight disappears like that.
The bouncer looks pointedly at the man beside you, sizing him up, smile stretching wider when he assesses his threat. Leaning against the wall, he crosses his arms across his chest so the sleeves of his shirt look like they are being pushed to their limits as the muscles in his biceps flex. Hips pushed out in a way that’s daring you to look below his waist, he throws you a wink with a snap of his gum.
“...So yeah, that’s the long and short , it,” Devin finishes with a proud smile and you just nod, not catching a single word he said.
Steve’s stare is relentless, and your body responds to it without you having to even meet his gaze. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, jaw clenching with every hard chew of his gum. Pushing himself off the wall, he starts a slow walk towards you. Big heavy steps bring him closer, every thud of his boots making your thighs clench, as you try desperately to stay concentrated.
Your date’s in the middle of another story that sounds like white noise, your lack of attention making him a babbling mess. He doesn’t notice the way Steve stops next to him first, giving him a once over from up close to make sure he wasn’t missing something from afar before coming up to you with the kind of smile that’s dripping with trouble.
“....So the logistics of it are kinda crazy when you think-“
“Just checking on my pretty new friend over here,” Steve cuts Devin off, not interested in anything but you. His large hand finds the small of your back, his palm almost big enough to cover the exposed skin between your skirt and top. It sends a shiver up your spine that the pad of his thumb soothes when it rubs circles over your sprouting goosebumps. “Having a good night, baby?”
The pet name falls so smoothly off his tongue that it takes Devin a minute to realize that it even left Steve’s mouth, a scowl souring his face when he sees the way your eyes glaze over looking up at the bouncer. 
“Yeah, I’m having a real nice time Steve.” Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, he notices the subtle way you lean into his touch. Your body needy for more.
“You better be.” He winks, letting the blunt ends of his nails scratch along your back before adding salt to Devin’s wound, “And you know where to find me if that changes.” 
There’s a knowing smirk that plays on the edges of his mouth, biting his lip he finally tears his eyes away from you to give a head nod to the date you’d forgotten about for the second time tonight. Steve tosses him a wink too, a gesture that makes Devin’s jaw clench. Steve opens his mouth to say something that was sure to piss him off more, but he’s cut off by the sound of Eddie’s rings slamming hard on the bar behind you. 
“Dude! What the fuck are you doing inside? Do you know how many people have walked in without getting checked? It's PEAK hours!” The bartender's eyes are frantic, fingers running through his curls as he yells at his friend. “Quit flirting and go do your job. Also, is that a fucking kid man?”
Eddie points to the boy that the bouncer stopped earlier who was snooping around abandoned tables in search for leftovers he was definitely not of legal age for, Steve’s cheeks tint the color of your lipgloss when he looks at you with sheepish eyes. The confidence he was dripping with disappears into embarrassment while doing his best to ignore the smug look on your date’s face.
“Calm down man, it was three minutes! I’ll get rid of the fuckin’ kid. Again.” He rubs the back of his neck as he walks away, stalking towards the boy who looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Hey asshole! You must’ve grown eight years in twenty minutes for me to be seeing you here!” 
The boy raises his hands up in surrender slowly backing away, giving Steve an opportunity to turn around to toss you one last smile and wiggle his fingers at Devin before focusing on the high schooler who is already halfway out the door. The kid's walk turns into a run when Steve cracks his knuckles for show, following him out with long strides, disappearing back outside and out of sight.
You’re left with awkward silence between you and your date as Eddie stomps away muttering under his breath. Devin clears his throat, twirling his beer, the glass against the wood making a sound that starts to grate on your nerves. He’s daring you to look at him. The huff he exhales afterwards begs you to look. Your mind races with ideas of how to get out of this and when you dare to finally take a peek, he’s looking forward, emptying the last of his bottle.
“I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette!” You blurt out, grabbing your bag and leaving no time for a response. Your sandals clack as you power walk to the door. To Steve.
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The summer night is sticky on your face when you step out of the bar, the sound of a girl’s sniffled “You’re right Steve” directing your stare to the bouncer you were looking for. Sitting on the very stool you knocked him off of, his big boots sit on the lowest footrest with his knees spread wide. Inviting. His eyes connect with yours, widening a bit when you smirk at him while getting yourself comfortable on the brick wall on the opposite side of the door. Digging your cigarettes out of your purse, you notice the girl next to him has mascara running down her cheeks that she only makes worse when she wipes them with the back of her hand. 
“You know Maryanne, it sounds like this isn’t the first time he’s done this to you. I think it’s time to kick him to the curb. You deserve better.” He speaks to her like they’ve been friends their whole lives and you have no idea how he’s learned so much about her in the few minutes he’s been outside. Crossing his arms as he leans back enough for the legs of the stool to pull up, he catches himself with his shoulders against the wall behind him. 
“He sounds like a chump if you ask me,”you chime in, lighting your cigarette. Steve’s smile shines under the pink luminescent sign above him when he hears your voice. The wooden legs of his stool smacking loud against the cement when he pushes off the wall.
She’s startled by your sudden appearance, not noticing when you came out - too lost in her own world. She gives you a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she nods, tugging at her high pony and somehow making it higher. The sequined scrunchy in her hair catches the street light as she tries hyping herself up to return to whoever was making her cry inside.
“He is a chump, but most men are.” She sighs, her shoulders relaxing a little more as she calms down.
“You’ve got this honey, tell him to fuck off and go home with Lisa if that’s what he wants so bad,” Steve champions, patting her on the back, a new layer to Maryanne’s story being revealed. His eyes flick back to you as you take a drag, the mossy green going dark when he watches your cheeks hollow.
“Thanks for listening Steve, I’m gonna go back in now.” She wipes her nose one more time, before giving you a polite head nod.
“Have Eddie make you something sweet, and tell him it’s on me.” The bouncer winks, giving her the boost of confidence she needs before opening the door you just came out of. Monifah’s Touch It adds to the tension between Steve and you when it leaks out of the bar as she disappears inside. The bass thumps against the brick, leaving the song just muffled enough to be background noise when it closes behind her.
The air is heavier, thicker with something you both know is there. Playing hard to get, you don’t meet his gaze, despite feeling it over every curve and dip of your body. Inhaling another hit of nicotine, you lift your head up to exhale the smoke into the dark sky, extending your neck for him to see before you finally give in and chance a glance in his direction.
He looks far too handsome, smiling wide when you meet his eyes, all his perfectly white teeth baring themselves at you in a way that makes your legs shake.
“Missed me already baby?” His feet hit the sidewalk, his man spread somehow bigger this way as he scoots closer to the edge of the stool. 
“You’re not very good at your job, are you?” You grin, successfully dodging the answer he already knows as your head hits the side of the building. Tilting your chin in his direction with your lip tucked between your teeth, you catch his narrowed glare.
“Nice try sweetheart, I used to watch Road House, religiously. I learned from the best. I’m just distracted,” the buttery smoothness of his voice returns, the last of his sentence coming out in a purr.
“Distracted?” You quirk a brow, not giving into him just yet.
“Yes, very much so and I regret to inform you that it’s all your fault too.” He sticks his bottom lip out at you in a pout, earning the giggle he’d been trying to get again since he first heard it, even if it's accompanied by your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head.
“I’m on a date, Steve.” Even though you know it’s a weak comeback at this point, you still give it and he doesn’t miss a beat.
“Where? I don’t see him.”
Your cheeks heat up at his observation so you take another drag of your half smoked cigarette to try and hide the way he’s affecting you.
“I’m supposed to be quittin’, but you’re makin’ it look too good, pretty girl. Let me have a puff?” His question is an invitation, making the first move to call your bluff, to get you closer.
“Is that why you seem to have a cinnamon addiction?” you tease, not surprised when you kick off the wall accepting it with a smirk and an exaggerated sway of your hips.
He licks his lips while his eyes roam the length of your body unashamed, one large hand raking through his hair when you stop close enough to smell the topic of discussion on his breath. 
“Could be addicted to worse,” he murmurs, not sure where to look having you between his legs like this. 
“It’s a Newport, S‘that okay, Steve?” you ask him from underneath flirting lashes. His breath hitching before a sly smirk spreads across his pink lips.  
“More than okay baby.” He leans closer, fingers wrapping around the plush curve of your hip to anchor you in place.
Tipping up on your toes, your hand comes down on his thigh making the muscle flex against your palm, your touch sending shocks through the rough denim while the other holds the gloss stained end up to his mouth. 
Steve holds your stare when his lips wrap around where yours just were. His nails dig half crescent moons into your exposed skin as his cheeks hollow out. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, your brows meeting in the middle when he tugs you even closer before tilting his head up. The thick expanse of his neck on full display as he blows out his drag, adam's apple bobbing in the light making the moles dance across his skin. 
“The strawberry really sets it off.” He grins as his hand dares to slide down the top curve of your ass, making it his new home when you make no moves to get away from him.
“Thanks, it’s my favorite gloss.” You shrug, pretending to unphased by his teasing, but the mess in your panties would give you away if he could see.
“Maybe I could get a better taste,” his words are bold, but his free hand is bolder. Soft fingertips play with the top hem of your skirt, daring to dip under the fabric every once and awhile and he swears he hears you whimper.
“You want more?” Your voice comes out small, dripping in honey just for him. You know what he really wants, but he’s not gonna get it yet.
“God, if you’ll let me honey.” There’s a light squeeze on the dough of your ass, and it makes you flutter around nothing.
You lean in slowly, your hand moving further up his thigh watching the way his chest starts to rise and fall from it. Stretching the cotton of his shirt with every breath. The fingers that had been exploring the top of your skirt start a path up to the bottom of your top. A low hum coming from under his breath when the sweetness of your body lotion hits his nose. 
His eyes shut when your faces get close enough that he feels like he can taste the strawberry that he wants so bad. He doesn’t notice when you pull back at the last second to replace your kiss with another puff until your cigarette shoves past his puckered lips. 
When he opens them, he’s met with your giggles, a sound he wants on a loop. He pretends to glare, still taking the hit you were offering him, exhaling it through his nose like an angry bull. He opens his mouth to chastise you but the beeping of his digital pet interrupts his intimidating moment again.
“Gotta get that?” Your lips twitch while you try to contain your laugh, flicking the cigarette onto the street.
“Listen, my best friend got it for me. I thought it was incredibly stupid, and I definitely told her it was too.” The hand on your waist leaves to dig his Tamagotchi out of his front pocket. “But now I’m attached to the little guy.” 
The key chain sized toy lights up in his hand, as he starts to feed it with a press of a button.
“Mine died yesterday,” you admit and the laugh you’d been fighting off echoes loudly when he looks up at you horrified. 
“What? Do you have it with you now?”he questions as the small happy tune plays signaling that his pet is fully satisfied. 
“She’s somewhere in my bag, don’t worry she was reborn this morning,” your words don’t reassure him considering they seem to need food every thirty minutes and you haven’t pulled it out once since he’s met you.
“Sounds like you want her to die again to me.” Steve’s very real concern about your Tamagotchi has you smirking.
“They die so easily, you’re telling me yours hasn’t died?” 
Your jaw drops when he shakes his head ‘no’, a smugness taking over his handsome features.
“Steve, that’s like really hard to do.” You don’t know whether you should be impressed or roast him but when his hand grips at your ass one more time you decide it’s the first.
“Better give her to me for the night baby, I’ll keep her nice and healthy for my favorite girl.” Stuffing his back into his pocket, he holds his palm open for you in a vow to keep your digital pet alive and an excuse to see you later.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you obey his wishes. Digging to the bottom of your bag till you find your purple one. The screen already going off, and the muffled beeping that signaled the need for it to be fed finally becomes loud enough to hear.
“See! I told you. On the cusp of death already.” 
You drop it in his hand, right as an older trucker comes barreling out of the bar reminding you where you’re at and that Devin is still waiting inside. Again.
“Fuck, I should go back in.” You sigh as your fingers play with the seam on the leg of his jeans.
“Go back in and tell that guy to get lost,” the bouncer almost whines, his grip on your hip tightening before he lets you go.
“Steve,” you huff but the smile on your face gives him hope.
“Just saying sweetheart, could be fun.” He shrugs, putting on an air of nonchalance while your Tamagotchi dangles from his thumb.
You both know who you really want to go home with tonight.
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The bubble you and Steve are in pops as soon as you get back inside The sound of the distant cars on the freeway and Steve’s voice is replaced with Return of the Mack and the crowd that was at a simmer when you first got here is now at a full boil. 
You have to get rid of Devin.
He’s right where you left him, hunched over and twirling his beer bottle on top of the bar. You notice the three empty shot glasses before you see Eddie dropping off another one while giving you the kind of eyes that say ‘Come take care of your date’ as he walks away. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards him going over all the ways you can let him down easy while your nerves drown out the little bit of guilt you had for ditching him.
“Heeeey,” your voice is high pitched, awkwardness dripping from its tone when you finally return to your stool next to him.
Crickets.
You freeze - he’s ignoring you. How can you get rid of him if he’s ignoring you? Your eyes shift around the bar nervously, offering an awkward tight lipped smile when anyone meets your stare. You search for Eddie again, hoping to silently ask for help but his back is to you, clearly putting the moves on a girl at the other end.
“Devin.” 
You hope that saying his name will elicit the desired response but that dwindles quickly when he chugs the rest of his beer, continuing his charade and keeping his gaze forward before slamming the empty bottle down.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he grumbles, irritation laced in every word before he pushes off the stool still not meeting your eyes.
You wait till he’s out of earshot before you let out a groan, your long disappearance clearly pissed him off. Propping yourself up by your elbows on the sticky bar, you close your eyes, rubbing your temples while you try to think of the right way to go about this. Eddie’s knowing chuckle is the last thing you want to hear but that’s just how the night is going now.
“You pretty little scoundrel!” He slaps the spot in front of you forcing your eyes open, his smile only widening when you glare at him.
“He’s so pissed and now thanks to you,” gesturing towards the empty shot glasses Eddie gets rid of with quick hands, you avoid the real reason, “He’s gonna be trashed!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetheart. I’m not the one who can’t keep their hands off Stevie boy. And on a date too? Tsk tsk tsk.” He crosses his arms with a shake of his head, “Now you broke poor Derek’s -“
“Devin.”
“Whatever - fish guy’s heart. Aren’t you in a little predicament hmm?” Eddie hums the last part, but you can see the excited glint in his eyes. He loves watching your escapades.
“Listen,” you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your strawberry lips under his knowing gaze, “When you told me he was hot Eddie, you didn’t tell me he was that hot.”
Smirking, you enjoy watching the way his face contorts knowing that was a damn lie.
“Are you kidding?” He throws his hands in the air, giving you the reaction you were baiting him for, “It was the first thing I told you.”
You laugh loudly at his exasperation with your antics, almost forgetting about Devin entirely for the third time tonight. 
“Have fun figuring out this little love triangle you’ve created, I need to get to the rest of the paying customers so I can get back to that hottie at the end of the bar.” He points to the girl he was talking to earlier who’s sipping a drink she looks surprised to even like.
“I bet you aren’t charging her for anything are you?” You narrow your eyes playfully, cackling when he rolls his waving you off as he walks away.
Sliding off the stool, you tug up your tube top, ready to give it to Devin straight, more than eager to get back outside again. 
“I knew the guys in the office said you were easy, but I didn’t think you’d be spreading your legs for anything that walked on our date.” Devin’s voice comes as a surprise, but the tight grip on your arm pulling you to him is an even bigger one.  
Searing rage fills every part of your body at the fact that he put his hands on you, palms flat on his chest, you use all your strength to shove him away. Shock paints his features, not expecting you to fight back so aggressively. All the drinks he’s had make him stumble back, losing his footing almost falling into the couple next to him.
“Well I’m sure as shit not spreading them for you!” you spit, looking him up and down with disgust before putting a finger in his face, “And your shirt? It’s fucking ugly.”
You give him one last once over before shaking your head and walking away. Heading back towards the entrance, you notice Steve inside again. A hard glare is set on his face, nostrils flaring as he zeros in on Devin behind you who’s still trying to regain his balance. 
God, it’s the hottest he’s looked all night. 
Steve’s hazel eyes meet yours and they instantly soften when you can’t help but smile as he opens the door for you.
“Thanks Stevie,” using Eddie’s nickname, you run your hands across his chest when you walk by, just to add salt to Devin’s wound.
The flush that paints his cheeks tells you how much he likes it.
“When I told you to ditch your date, I didn’t mean to fist fight him, honey,” he teases, following you outside, letting the chipped red door shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the bar again. 
“He got mad about my little disappearance before I could let him down easy.” Turning around, you bite your bottom lip to try to hide your growing smile.
“Poor guy.” Steve grins before taking the two steps to close the gap, to crowd your space. Cinnamon fanning across your face, “Never stood a chance.”
It’s harder for you to breathe when he looks at you like he wants to kiss you, but before you can respond, the door flies open.A drunk Devin stumbling out with a glare breaking you two apart.
“Of course, of FUCKING course. Not even two seconds later? You really are a slut, huh?” Devin seethes, stumbling out onto the sidewalk.
“I’m really going to need you to watch your mouth champ. No need to call girls names. You’re a big boy.” Steve’s tone is condescending as he squares up, making sure you’re behind him.
“You think you’re so fucking cool,” Devin scoffs before hiccuping, “Careful with this one, she’s probably sucked your buddy’s dick inside too.” 
“Yeah, that’s enough, asshole. Go home, before I have to beat some respect into that ugly skull of yours.” Steve cracks his knuckles again, but it doesn’t have the same effect as before, Devin only raising his eyebrows at the bouncer.
“Respect? That’s funny. The whore behind you hasn’t heard of it.”  
Steve loses his cool and like a flash he’s on him. Pulling his fist back Steve moves just a little too slow and Devin clocks him right in the jaw. The sound of bone against bone echoes loudly into the night. Stumbling back, Steve cradles where an ugly bruise will start forming in the morning, rubbing it out. He cracks his neck before barreling towards Devin, taking him down to the ground like a football player.
In a flurry of fists and cuss words, Devin somehow gets Steve pinned. The alcohol and anger flowing through his system turns him into The Hulk. Your screams for them to stop fall on deaf ears while they continue to roll around on the ground. Panic sets in when you realize neither man is going to stop. Doing the only thing you know how to do in these situations, you get Eddie.
Frantic, you open the door, ignoring the fact that  Third Eye Blind is playing at the exact worst time, you scream Eddie’s name loud enough to silence the bar.
“Eddie! It’s bad. Steve needs you!” 
He looks up from a clearly flirtatious conversation with the girl from before, both of their eyes landing on you as you get your friends attention. He grumbles, grabbing her hands saying something to her that makes her nod bashfully before jumping over the bar top. Jogging out the front, he towers easily over the two men, neither one of you bothering to check the red heads I.D. that walks in after you.
“The first fucking night man!” Eddie yells at Steve, grabbing Devin by the back of his shirt pulling him off the bouncer with ease, but not before Steve gets one more cheap shot in.
He wrestles against Eddie’s grip for a second before finally giving up with a hiccup, hocking a loogie in Steve’s direction.
“You done?” The bartender's face is unamused, as he waits for Devin to nod. “I never wanna see you or your shitty ass style at my bar again. Beat it bozo before I give you a matching black eye to go with the one Steve gave you.”
Two against one is too much for Devin to take on, so he raises his hands up in surrender when Eddie lets him go. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he shoots you one last glare before turning on his heel. Flipping everyone off as he starts down the sidewalk. Steve returns the gesture, spitting at his retreating form.
“You good?” Eddie asks, extending his hand for his friend to take.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just hate that guy.” Steve mumbles, looking everywhere but at you while he straightens his shirt and dusts off his jeans with bloody knuckles.
“Your hand dude, I can’t have you bleeding all over people I.D’s. and I know Rick doesn’t have a first aid kit. At least I’ve never seen one.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, stress coming in the form of knitted brows.
“I’ve got one,” you mumble, finally finding your voice and the bartender claps, wiping his hands clean of the situation.
“There, go play nurse with lover boy and get out of my hair tonight. I’m like this close,” he pinches two fingers together to show “to scoring and you both have been fucking it up every chance you can get. I swear to god.” 
Eddie waves you off as he makes his way back in, and you can feel the shift in energy between you and the bouncer you’ve been wanting all night.
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Steve’s quiet the whole walk up the stairs to your apartment, fuming with anger and embarrassment, the confidence from before gone while the bruise on his jaw deepens and he cradles his bleeding knuckles.
“This is me,” you break the silence cringing, your voice amplified in the walls of the narrow hallway while you dig out your key.
“Thanks for this, angel,” his words come out in just above a whisper but at least it’s something.
The endearment has a smile creeping across your face and you finally dare to turn around to get a look at him after you hear the click of your lock. You press your back against your open door, it’s your turn to extend an invitation.
“Anytime Stevie.”
His face softens the minute he lays his eyes on you again, jealous of the way you bite your bottom lip sweetly, he wishes it was him. 
You let Steve into your world one heavy boot at a time, locking the door behind you. Watching the way his dimmed eyes brighten, curiosity winning over any leftover irritation. The ghost of a smirk twitches at the corners of his lips while he walks the small space of your studio taking everything in. The neon sign outside your window is the only light that illuminates it, shadows dancing off trinkets on shelves and pictures on walls, he was getting a glimpse of you. 
He stops in the middle of your room, right at the edge of your bed. The dark denim and leather that cover him are a stark contrast against your baby blue rug, but you think he looks like he belongs here. You watch the way he takes in your hastily made bed, licking his lips when he sees a pair of panties that didn’t quite make it in the laundry basket in the corner. The radio you’d forgotten to turn off plays a commercial, filling the space between you, and you aren’t prepared for when he puts his full attention back on you again after not having it for the past twenty minutes. Your body responds immediately to the playful glint in his eye.
“Cute place, for a cute girl.” He grins, running his good hand through his hair before he walks over to the window to take a look at your view.
“I bet you say that to all of em’,” you tease because it’s easier to do with his back to you. Making your way to the bathroom, nerves burst like butterflies in your stomach.
“You’re the only one baby.” 
His response is quick as he turns around, the flirting you’d grown accustomed to coming back like a raging storm. He watches your hips while you walk the short distance with a heavy stare that covers every part of you. Leaning against the door frame with your curves on full display, something shifts behind his eyes. Flipping the lightswitch, white beams break apart the pink, highlighting even more of you for him to drink in.
“Come on handsome, let’s get you patched up.”
His cheeks flush at the new nickname and it's his turn to bite his lip in a shy smile for you. 
It doesn’t take more than a few steps for his long legs, the wood creaking under his weight. Pressing your back to the frame, he stops in front of you with one foot over the threshold and the other still in your room. He takes up so much space. His biceps flex when he reaches for your hip, tugging you even closer, you can smell the menthol still lingering on his breath. On instinct your palm hits his chest, muscles dancing under heated skin as you tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. Squeezing at your softness before he speaks, he lets his middle finger dip under the top of your skirt.
“I really meant it when I said thank you back there. Just need you to know that.” His finger dares to dip lower, rubbing circles that make your back arch, hips pushing forward on a search for his. The curve of your stomach touches the cool metal of his belt buckle and the heat of his body sets fire between your thighs.
“I know you did,” your voice is sweet for him, the tone you know he likes while your hand moves down the dip between his pecs, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”
You can feel the coarse hair that starts at the top of his belly button where your hand stops, and you swear you feel him twitch in his pants. A second one of his fingers finds its way under your skirt and another subtle tug gets you even closer. So close that all you’d have to do is stand on your tiptoes for your lips to touch. 
“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he breathes, spice and tobacco taking over. His adam’s apple bobs when he catches the way you start staring at his lips, the gloss on your own shimmering in the new light.
“Anything?” Quirking your brow with a smirk, your innuendo makes him moan and his hold on you tighten.
“Absolutely.” Ducking his head lower so his nose brushes against the bridge of yours, he dares you to make the first move.
“In that case…” Pressing your toes down to push yourself up, the playful glint in your eye goes unnoticed by him.
Your lips are a ghost, his top one barely brushing against your bottom, it's enough for him to taste the strawberry he wanted more of outside but not enough to satisfy. His eyes flutter closed waiting to feel their full plushness but your words bring him back to reality.
“Sit on the toilet for me.”
The specks of emerald shine again when his eyes snap open to see you flat on your feet with a grin. Groaning loudly with fake irritation, he lets go of you in exasperated defeat, letting his head fall back and hit the wood of the frame.
“What? We came up here for my first aid kit, didn't we?” You giggle after you say it, you don’t mean it.
“Sure, sure, yeah, yeah.” Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair while he looks around your bathroom. 
It smells like your coconut body wash and it drives him crazy. He takes an unexpected step forward, his hand finding its way back to your hip to push you against the wall. One heavy boot between your wedged sandals, getting just close enough to kiss you. Is he going to?
It's your eyes that flutter closed this time, your fingers wrapping themselves around his belt loops again. He’s tentative with his injured hand when he uses it to cradle your jaw. His palm is soft as it covers half your neck, his thumb pushing up against your chin to tilt your face up to his. He runs the tip of his nose along your cheek and you feel your knees start to get weak, a whimper begging to fall from your parted lips.
“If that’s the only thing we’re here to do then we should get to it then, huh?” 
Just as quick as he invades your space, he leaves it. The porcelain of your toilet seat cover clunks loudly when he drops himself on it. Spread out like on the stool outside, he takes over the room, leaving you to catch your breath with a smug grin.
It’s a staring contest with narrowed eyes after that, but the twitch of your lips tells him you aren’t actually mad. He snorts when you clear your throat to regain your composure, purposely ignoring the obvious when you bend over to open the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the bright red zip up bag. 
“We need to wash your knuckles first, then I’ll put some ointment on them and wrap it up for you. We’ll keep it that way for the night and we can check on it in the morning.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and he catches the slip up instantly.
“Oh? You need to keep me overnight for observations?” 
You bite your lip to try and hide your smile, grabbing a washcloth running it under hot water instead of looking at him. 
“You know what I meant, I’ll come check on it tomorrow when you get to work.” You don’t even believe your lie, and the toothy smile you catch from the corner of your eye tells you he doesn’t either.
“But nurse, I don’t know. I think I should stay, I got hit in the face too. Concussions you know? I really shouldn’t be alone tonight.” He lays it on thick, eating up the way he sees you loving it spreading across your face when you ring out the soapy rag.
You don’t try to hide it when you finally face him, or when you settle between his legs for the second time tonight. The new position has him eye level with your chest, easier access to his lips. You hold your palm out for him, your hand disappearing completely when he drapes his wounded one over it.
“Concussion, huh? Are you feeling light headed Steve?” You play along giving your best impression of a medical professional.
He hisses when you press the damp cloth to his knuckles, sucking in air between his teeth when you start to clean. The soothing circles the pad of your thumb rubs on the side of his hand is almost enough to distract him from it.
“Yeah, but that started before I got hit.” 
You finally dare to meet his gaze, a flattered smile spreading wide across your face that you try to play down with a roll of your eyes.
“Hmmm,” you hum to yourself, deciding not to give in just yet as you switch from the rag to the ointment, getting the bandaging and medical tape out.
“I mean, you’re the professional honey. You tell me.” You feel his good hand tug at the bottom of your skirt while you smear the neosporin on his knuckles with a q-tip, his long fingers flexing at the cooling effect.
“It started before you got hit?” You question with a fake pensive expression, gently taking his palm in your hand to start the wrapping process. 
“Yeah, you see, this girl hit me with a door earlier. Knocked me clean off my stool.” He makes the motion of him falling with a swipe of his hand, “ and I haven’t been the same since if I’m being completely honest.”
It takes everything inside you to not give him the satisfaction of a laugh, the way you met coming back to the forefront of your mind.
“Some would argue putting your stool in front of the door like that is kinda stupid, but that's just my professional opinion.” Your shrug earns a loud laugh from him and you relish in it, promising yourself you’ll get him to do it again.
“All done.” You let go of his hand and he already misses you holding it, but the proud look on your face is a good distraction while you admire your handy work.
He holds it up, and you still can’t get over just how big they are. Curling his fingers in before extending them, he only winces slightly from the pain. The pressure of the bandage already helping. He jumps slightly when the backs of your fingers smooth over the fresh bruise forming on his jaw, the stubble tickling your skin. His eyes watch yours as they rake over the damage, the softness of your touch almost enough to make his eyelids heavy when you stroke the sore spot again.
“What do you think, huh?” His question comes out quiet, the playful edge gone while both his hands find the back of your legs. Rough fingertips run up your calves, catching the bottom of your skirt as they go, “Are you gonna keep me baby?”
A shiver runs up your spine when he hits the back of your thighs and you feel yourself getting pulled closer. He drags his nose up the bare skin of your sternum while his hands grab doughy handfuls just below the curve of your ass. The sound of your moan when his fingers get high enough to just barely graze the soaked material between your weakening legs sends him into overdrive. Growling, he nips at the tops of one of your breasts.
“Come on, tell me, what’s it gonna be?” Despite trying to sound confident, there’s a desperation in the way he asks. He knows you want it but he needs you to say it.
It’s when his fingers slip under the lace trim of your panties that you finally give in with a gentle grab of his chin. His eyes are black when they meet yours, the ends of his nails digging into soft skin. 
“Yeah, I’m gonna keep you.” You give into an urge you’ve had since you laid eyes on him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you spread yourself open for his hands to wander.
He doesn’t hold back anymore and you’re reminded of just how tall he actually is when he stands up. His actions are quick and with purpose, the strength you knew was behind those muscles showing itself when he lifts you onto the edge of the sink with your skirt rucked up to your hips. He man handles you in a way no one ever has and you feel it light a fire in your gut. Impatient for his next move, you grab the collar of his shirt while his hands spread wide over the tops of your thighs, your lips finally getting to do what they’ve wanted all night.
It’s soft at first, both of you moving slow as you figure out what the other likes, careful not to hurt his jaw. One of his hands finds its way back to your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing the length of the bone while his tongue begs you to open up. He traces the top of your lip, shuddering at the taste of the strawberry and it makes him wonder if your skin tastes like the coconut he smells. 
You give him the access he wants, your tongues meeting in the middle, making the fire that had been begging to consume you pour out from your fingertips that bury themselves into the roots at the nape of his neck. You need more. The hard length that has been fighting against the denim of his jeans presses hard into where you want his attention, your legs wrap around him - silently begging him to do it again.
One arm snakes around your lower back, holding you flush against his chest, the grind of his hips giving you the friction that makes you keen. A moan and a breathless “fuck” is what breaks your lips apart when his zipper catches your swollen clit with just the right amount of pressure. He uses his new found freedom to kiss down the length of your jaw, humming against your heated skin when you tilt your head to give him better access to all the sensitive places he can’t wait to discover. He sucks the soft spot behind your ear when you meet the next roll of his hips, your slides falling loudly off your feet to the tile floor.
“Steve,” his name comes out in a high pitch whine when he starts sucking a bruise in a place you know you’ll have to try and cover up for the next few days. He was marking you, and you could care less. You hold him there, encouraging more as his teeth graze your pulse point, a “baby” slipping past his lips when he finally pulls away.
He meets your eyes with flushed cheeks and messy hair and the kind of hunger that makes you melt.
“Let me take you to bed, let me take care of you,” he’s panting, his hold on you tightening so you can feel just how bad he needs this. A smirk spreads across his swollen lips when your hips shift in search for more, giving him the answer he needs along with the nod of your head.
Just as easy as he lifted you on the sink, he carries you to the bed, big hands cradling thick thighs before he lays you on your back. Your giggle fills the space in between heavy pants before TLC’s Creep starts playing over the speakers of the radio. His hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and you watch an expanse of new freckles and moles get revealed to you. You want to kiss them all. They dot the spots next to the dark hair over his belly button while the thick thatch of chest hair you’d only gotten a glimpse of glistens with beads of sweat in the glow of the Foxy Lounge light. 
His jeans hang low enough for you to get a glimpse of the veins protruding from the V shape that leads to the part of him that’s sure to make you forget your own name. His grin is cocky when he recognizes the expression on your face. Grabbing your ankle, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. The bottom of your foot resting on the soft hair of his chest while long fingers hold you in place. He keeps his eyes trained on yours while he starts to trail wet kisses down the inside of your leg. The stubble covering his jaw scratching along his path in the best way. He stops when he gets to the soft skin of your knee, nipping playfully, he smirks at the squeal it earns him before he drops your leg in favor of curling his fingers under the top of your skirt.
You lift your hips for him without him having to ask, and the flash of his teeth is almost enough to blind you. He’s slick with his movements, taking your panties too. You hear his breath catch in his throat when he sees the effects all his teasing has on you. His fingers grip at your thighs before pulling your sticky skin apart with a lick of his lips.
“Look at you baby, all this for me?” The last part of his question comes out in a groan when he swipes the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, kicking up in his jeans when your legs shake in response. “So sensitive too. Let me make her feel good, yeah?” 
He swipes his thumb against your clit again making your eyes shut tight and your hips buck.
“I need to hear you say it.” He keeps rubbing circles, applying just enough pressure for you to forget how to speak, “Come on, be a good girl for me.”
His other hand pulls down your tube top, breasts spilling out in the blush light for his eyes to devour. He groans at the sight, his other hand coming up to cup the soft flesh feeling the way your nipples pebble against the warmth of his palm.
“Steeeeve, please.” 
You’re whining for him and it makes his brows pinch together, feeling drunk off you. 
“God angel, you’re fuckin’ beautiful you know that?” He emphasizes his question with his hands, giving your sides a squeeze while his eyes roam every dip and curve of your body. “Turn around for me? I wanna see all of you.”
The look on his face makes you decide that you’ll never deny him anything he asks, giving him a nod, you run your hands up his arms, nails dragging across the light hair before you push yourself up to get on all fours.
You feel completely exposed to him like this, all the secret places of your body on full display. He’s quiet for a minute and it’s almost enough for your nerves to get the best of you until you feel his palm find the apple of your ass. Fingers digging into doughy flesh, a groan loud enough to drown out the music erupts deep from his chest.
“Baby, baby, babyyy,” he emphasizes the last endearment with another handful before pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”
Your hips wiggle at his words, your walls fluttering around nothing while the cool air from the overhead fan hits your heat, sending goosebumps dancing across your supple flesh. A dark chuckle leaves him when he sees how much power his words have over you. His knees hit the side of the mattress, one hand hooking around your hip while the other runs down the dip of your spine giving you a light push when he hits your shoulder blades until you're bent over for him.
“She likes when I talk to her, huh?” his voice is low, mesmerized when you start dripping on the bed for him and he’s barely touched you, “She likes when I call her pretty doesn’t she?”
The moan that leaves your mouth is pathetic and he wishes he could record it. 
“Playing hard to get all night, but look at you.” His good hand comes down hard enough on your ass for the fat to jiggle and you to fist handfuls of your comforter because of it, “Making such a filthy mess and I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”
His grip is rough when he tugs your hips, the outline of his dick pressing into you, the denim scratching against your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. 
“Tell me how much you want my mouth baby, tell me how much you want me to make you cum.” He grinds against you again, only this time making sure to apply the kind of pressure that makes your back arch.
“Fuck - Steve, please I want it. I’ve wanted it all night. I’ve wanted it all night,” you're babbling as he circles his hips, fingers kneading your soft skin.
Satisfied with your answer he mumbles a “so good for me” as he pulls away he gives you another light slap to your ass - signaling for you to scoot up, your mattress dipping behind you when he gets on his knees. 
Big hands spread you apart, your forehead hits the comforter when you feel the heat of his breath against your slick folds. Your walls flutter, begging for his attention when his tongue runs a long stripe up your slit. He hums at the taste before he does it again, this time making sure to circle your clit before lapping up everything you were drenching him with like he was thirsty for it. 
“Oh my god,” you huff into your blankets, toes curling when he starts an assault against your bundle of nerves, the pointed tip of his nose pressing deeper into your entrance as he gets lost in the sounds he’s pulling from you.
His fingers stretch across the tiger stripes on your butt cheeks, pulling you even further apart to give him better access. The coil inside you already threatening to snap when he sucks hard on your clit. He lets it go with a loud pop, smirking to himself at the way he has your body shaking from overstimulation already.
“Taste so fuckin’ good. Strawberries, just like your lips.” He groans, inhaling your scent like a man starved, his good hand coming down on your cheek again only this time a little harder pulling out another broken moan from you.
“Can I taste all of you pretty girl?” 
There’s zero hesitation when you say ‘yes’, in fact it’s a little desperate. He could have whatever he wanted from you now. Not even sure what he means, your brain’s too fuzzy with lust to comprehend anything until you feel the tip of his tongue circle a place you’d never let anyone else go before.
“Holy shit - Steve.” The new sensation sends another wave arousal to your dripping core, a needy whine following it when he does it again.
“This okay?” He kisses the curve underneath the apple of your cheek, the softness of his voice comforting you while he checks in.
“God, it’s, it’s -“ He gives you another kitten lick and it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head, “It’s more than okay - Jesus Christ.”
Too lost in the feeling of him testing the tightness of you with his tongue, you aren’t expecting his thick finger to start circling the entrance he’d been neglecting, the one you need him to fill the most. Your silk walls welcome the intrusion with ease, the stretch only stinging a little when he pushes to the last knuckle while his tongue starts getting a little more bold. Your back arches when he groans against you, curling his finger to hit the spot only you’d ever been able to find with ease. He adds a second digit when you start bucking against his face, the new addition almost makes you run away. He tsks at you from buried between your butt cheeks, one large hand locking you in place when he starts feeling you get close.
“Give it to me,” he demands, coming up for air. Fingertips relentless against the spot that has you squelching loudly.
His mouth returns to the sensitive part of you, tongue circling your tightness in a way that has you finally snapping. Your walls constrict, wrapping around his fingers while your vision goes white. Your body freezes, the orgasm overwhelming your muscles with a violent shake, his name falling from your lips like it’s the only word you know. You feel him grin against you, the movements of his fingers only slowing down but never stopping, milking every last drop you give him.
“So good, so pretty when you cum baby,” he mumbles praises, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach while your body comes down from its first high. 
You feel his weight leave the mattress, hear the metal of his belt buckle clinking followed by the low thump of his jeans hitting the floor. You find enough strength to look over your shoulder and it’s enough to make you whimper. Steve’s big. Dark hair at the base, it’s thick and curved, the pretty pink tip leaking just for you. The long vein that runs up the side pulses when he gives it a couple of tugs before his knees hit the mattress again. 
His hands spread over your hips pulling you closer before he starts trailing kisses up your back, the silver of his chain making you shiver as it runs up your spine till his lips stop right at your ear.
“You ready for me?” 
Your eyes meet his and they’re pitch black, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you know yours looks the same when you give him a nod but you know that’s not going to be enough for him.
“Come on, you know what I need,” his tone is mocking as he grabs his cock at the base, swiping his head through your folds, smirking at the way you try to suck him in, your body greedy for him.
“Please, please, please, please.” 
All your self respect goes out the window when he pushes the tip in and you can’t stop repeating yourself. The stretch is already bigger than his two fingers and he wasn’t even half way in yet and for a brief moment you wonder if he’ll even fit. 
“Fuck - baby.”
He moans as he pushes further, sheathing himself half way and he feels the way it makes your legs shake. His hand sneaks around your waist to find your clit, slippery fingers rubbing circles to get you to open up more as he rolls his hips one more time bottoming out. He groans so loud you’re sure anyone who might be smoking outside of the bar can hear him. 
“Holy shiiiit, I’ve never had pussy like this.” He stills, adjusting to how tight you feel, and it’s his turn to babble as you constrict around him making him twitch -  dangerously close to cumming already.
“You feel so good Stevie,” you whine as you push back against him, taking his length even deeper, feeling every curve and ridge of him against your walls.
He pulls out half way before slamming back in and it makes him curse under his breath before he does it again, only harder.
“God, fuck- this is all mine now, yeah?” he mutters, an angry edge to his words when he thinks about Devin getting to do this. 
“Mmhmm,” your answer is automatic, no thoughts behind your eyes while his cock fills you in the way you fantasize about when you touch yourself. 
“That’s right baby, it’s mine. You’re mine.” 
His thrusts get aggressive as he gets closer to his release, your slick making it easy for him to slide almost completely out before pushing back in. The rough hair covering his pelvis rubbing your clit at the same time his tip reaches the same spot his fingers pulled your first orgasm from. 
“Shit, Steve, right there.”  Your jaw goes slack, eyes closing tight when he hits it again, your words spurring him on while he tries to re-grip his hold on your sweat-kissed skin.
“Yeah? you want more?” He makes sure to put all his attention where you want, slowing his hips just enough to hit it even harder. “I’ll give you more.”
Steve tilts his head to the side watching how you wrap around him, and the way he barely has to push back in, your greedy walls doing almost all the work when he finds the perfect pace that has you twisting the sheets.
He huffs out a cocky laugh and it makes you tighten in response, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.”Yeah, I know baby. I know. You gonna cum again for me?”
“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out with a nod but it’s not enough for him, he needs you loud enough for Devin to hear from across town.
The sound of skin slapping against skin drowns out the music, keeping his stamina up despite the twitch of his cock, he bends over, somehow getting deeper, the cool metal of his chain dragging across your back while one hand snakes under your waist. His fingers are unrelenting when they find their way to your puffy clit again, applying just enough pressure to get your legs to shake for him.
“I’m gonna ask again, are you gonna cum for me?” He keeps his voice even, but he knows he’s not gonna last much longer, especially not when your cheek hits the mattress and you meet his eyes looking like that.
“Yeah, god, yeah Steveee! Please, please, please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for but it makes Steve’s resolve break. 
The moan he lets out is loud enough to echo off your wall, warmth flooding your insides as he cums hard enough to collapse against your back. It’s enough to send you over the edge for the second time. Your walls fluttering enough to make his nails dig crescent moons into your hips with a low “fuck” escaping him as you milk him for more with the sweetest chant of his name he’s ever heard.
“That’s it baby.” He coos lips placing sloppy kisses along the your shoulder blades when you collapse against the mattress, your bodies tangled in a way you don’t have the energy to leave quite yet.
The radio cuts out leaving just the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath, you can faintly hear ‘Pony’ playing from the bar below but the sound of a car driving past quickly snuffs it out. You feel his nose nudge against your ear, a slow lazy smile creeping across your face when his lips brush your temple.
“I don’t think you have a concussion, but you better stay the night just in case.”
His laugh vibrates against your back, a toothy grin pressed to your skin.
“It’s always better to be safe than sorry,” he agrees. The response you somehow managed to conjure up gets lost on your tongue when both your long forgotten Tamagotchi’s go off in his abandoned pants in a matching tune you’d never heard before.
“Our babies need daddy, honey,” he groans, slowly lifting himself up on his elbows.
You roll your eyes with a snort as he trails kisses down your back only wincing slightly when he pulls himself out. Folding your arms under your head, you still can’t bring yourself to move, but the view of him naked and still semi hard while he holds the two digital pets in his hand with a confused expression isn’t one you really can turn away from.
“What?” Your curiosity is piqued when his eyes grow big.
“No fuckin’ way,” he mumbles more to himself than you, “I didn’t even know they could do this.”
“What??” The irritation is clear in your voice, the feeling of being left out turning you into a brat.
“Umm, I think they had babies… yep. Marty definitely got her pregnant.” The smile on his face gives away just how excited he actually is and you hate to admit that it’s contagious.
“Well we’re gonna have to figure out a child support plan I’m afraid. Daisy’s a free woman Steve.” The serious delivery makes him do a double take before he narrows his eyes.
“Child support? No, we're raising these kids together. So I’m gonna need you to care a little bit about keeping her alive. It's not just you here honey.” He tosses you the toy before jumping back on the bed pulling your body into his chest with ease, “I’m afraid you’re never getting rid of me.”
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