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yndrgrl · 10 months

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katsuki bakugo has a glow up during summer break, & now he has a lot of girls' attention

fluff. ooc! bakugo. bits of jealousy. sfw. x reader. acquaintances to lovers. long ass fic.

a/n: the horny content will continue after this message :) also i kinda got nerdy so just ignore my rambles about fighting haha

the whispers & murmurs buzzed like bugs throughout the halls of u.a. you couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard lower classmen gush about how good katsuki looks, how he definitely had a summer glow up.

it's not that he was bad looking before, that's just not the case. so, when you heard that he somehow got hotter over the span of a few months, you grew curious.

your best friend, ochaco, began to rave about him. "no, you don't understand, y/n. have you seen him yet?"

"i haven't yet, but it doesn't matter! he's still rude as hell!" you told her. "besides, aren't you still going after midoriya?"

"yeah, but i can still appreciate attractive people," she retorted, shoving the rest of her her breakfast-on-the-go in her mouth. you fished your phone out of your school cardigan pocket to change your music when, like a kdrama (or a shitty fanfic), you ran into something-- no, someone.

speak of the devil. "oi! watch it!" the abrasive blonde spun around & met your eyes. his harden glare soften oh so subtly.

"i'm sorry," you quaintly apologized. it's the first day & the first hour of the next 180 days, & you're not going to get in a fight.

"it's whatever, just make sure where you're going next time," katsuki responded. his tone was still harsh, yet what he said was almost nice.

he walked off into the both of yours' classroom, leaving you & ochaco stunned. you both stared at each other, mouths agape. "what just happened?" she finally spat out.

"i have no idea."

"WAS HE JUST NICE?"

a week later, you sat in class, listening to mr. aizawa drone on about something so utterly boring, you'd rather stick your head in a toilet & flush it yourself. you let your eyes wander around the class. for the most part, everyone stayed the same.

then, your eyes landed on katsuki, who was seated by the window. now that you had time to think about it, he did change. his jawline was a tad sharper, his hair appeared more soft, & his shirt clung onto every inch of his upper body. he definitely bulked up during the summer.

his skin is clear, he must've also began caring for a sense of style because his fingers displayed grunge rings, & his eyes were somehow a darker, more alluring shade of crimson. wait, his eyes... were staring at you.

no, he was staring at you staring at him.

god, you felt like a creep. you were expecting him to yell at you, scowl through gritted teeth, but no. he didn't do any of that. he shot you a smirk, then went back to jotting notes.

confusion settled in after embarrassment. you couldn't help that a light pink dusted your cheeks. it wasn't noticeable though, thank goodness.

the subtle, weird antics didn't stop. maybe he's just playing with me or something, you wondered. or maybe i'm looking too much into thinks.

when passing him in the halls, he'd acknowledge you by giving you a small nod-- even if his friends were talking his ears off. he'd hold the doors open for you & only you, but would walk away quickly. he was treating you differently then he treats everyone else, & you don't know why.

"bakugo~" a girl you barely recognized greeted. "you look handsome today!"

he & his friends sat on the other side of your friends' long table. you were the closest to his squad, only three seats away from them. they could hear your conversations, but that means you could hear theirs.

"shut it, & eat your food," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. with his chopsticks, he picked at his bento box.

"ooo~ what did you pack?" she pressed as she inched closer to him. "aww, did your mom make that?"

"no, i did," he raised his voice. she wouldn't take the hint though.

she merely giggled, asking, "could you feed it to me? i wanna try some~" she crossed her arms under her breasts to intensify her cleavage. she was picture perfect, to say the least. any other guy would be drooling at the sight of her.

not bakugo though. he was goal-oriented, focused on the future, & not into dating from what you gathered. a small part of you is bummed out that he isn't interested in romance. he was practically everything you wanted in a guy after all-- just minus the whole "jerk" part.

"what are you looking at, bakugo?" you didn't realize you were staring -once again- until the girl whipped her head around & caught your gaze. her cattish smile dropped into a thin line. "quit staring, idiot-"

"don't call her that, bitch."

both yours & her eyes widened at the quickness & unexpected defensiveness spewed by bakugo. he stuck some of his egg omelette in his mouth, unbothered.

"wh-what? i don't think i heard you, bakugo."

he swallowed his food, ran his tongue across his top teeth, and started to pick up more food with his chopsticks, reiterating, "don't talk to y/n like that, got it?" he put the food in his mouth.

she scoffed, humiliated. "i have to leave," she said, voice dropping at least an octave. your eyes trailed her as she sat with her friends, & they immediately began gossiping. how could you tell? the way they all looked back at you with a nasty expression on their faces.

you returned your attention back to bakugo, who had both your friends & his friends floored with what just happened. "thanks for that," you started. "you really didn't have to do that."

"i know i didn't, but someone had to shut her up."

you replied, "i mean, i'm sure there was a nicer way."

"i tried," he told you with that small smirk on his face again. "she didn't get the hint, i have to be more obvious."

"yeah, in more ways than one," a friend on his side, sero, snickered.

"hey, what's that supposed to mean?!" classic katsuki, reverting back to yelling.

ever since that happened, your friends haven't stopped talking about it since. "guys, c'mon. it's almost been a week," you groaned. you were all getting ready in the school locker room to do hand-to-hand, no quirk combat with a celebrated instructor.

"i think bakugo likes you~" ochaco teased in a sing-songy voice.

you tried to reason, "maybe he was just annoyed with her, & it has nothing to do with me."

"i don't know, y/n," momo laughed, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "he seemed pretty into you."

"no way, not bakugo-"

"well, why not bakugo?" mina, who just so happened to be good friends with said man, asked while she slipped on her shoes.

"because we all know what he's like. he doesn't really scream the dating type, you know?" you grabbed a water bottle & locked your back into your locker.

mina shrugged, & ochaco said, "you said one time that bakugo was the closest to your type... do you like him?"

"WHAT?"

the rest of the conversation was cut short when tsuyu pointed out they should be in the training room by now, causing all the girls to scramble out of the locker room.

the instructor, once the bell rang, introduced himself. he was a nice man seemingly. he was a well-seasoned martial artist who knew what he was talking about.

after his brief speech, he had his assistant -a younger, more egotistical guy- be his dummy when explaining a move. "does anyone have any questions?" he asked. no one answered. "cool, find a partner, & try it out."

everyone scurried to find their partners. pair by pair, no one chose you... all except-

"hey you, be my partner," bakugo practically demanded.

"me?"

"no, the wall behind you. yes, you, y/n," he joked, the same smirk only you get to see on his face. this time, however, it was a full-blown smirk.

"are you sure?"

"yeah," he scoffed, dragging you by the arm to an empty space. he studied how your face contorted from surprise to concern. "listen, if you think you're gonna drag me down or whatever, you're not-"

"no, it's not that," you interrupted. you felt your pride inflate slightly.

"then what is it?"

"i just don't want to hurt you."

it was his turn to be shocked. what did you mean by that?

the first hour went by, techniques were taught, & moves were learned. however, now it was the time that really put things to the test: open spar. it was at this time in training when things got heated. everyone in the room gives it their all no matter what, so the atmosphere turns into something animalistic, yet so empowering.

but before that, is a small water break. speaking of water, where did you leave yours? you swear you brought it in. bakugo must've seen how confused you appeared when he offered (or told you), "here, take some of mine."

too thirsty to even care the open-mouthed expressions from your peers, you took the bottle from his outstretched hand. "thank you!" you cheered, taking a few sips then handing it back to him.

"was that even enough? you barely drank anything," he jested. it sounded like he was teasing you, but, again, he said something like he cared about your well-being.

"yeah, i'll be fine. the worst that can happen is i'll faint."

"you better not. i need a good training partner."

"oh whatever, you're getting a good training partner."

suddenly, the instructor boomed, "water break is over! get back with your partner for sparring!"

once everyone huddled back with their partners & got situated, the instructor explained briefly that everyone will be grappling ("no striking" he repeated ten times as well) five minute rounds, switch partners, another five minute round, & so on so forth. "alright got it?"

"yes sir!"

"good," he nodded to his assistant, who got the stop watch ready, "3, 2, 1, go!"

yoy & katsuki go into your stances. one thing about being shorter than him is that, in the game of wrestling, you're at in advantage at first. "don't go easy on me," you told him, it was meant as a warning

"i was just about to tell you i wasn't." the moment he finished, he took a double-leg shot. it was executed near flawless-- emphasis on the near.

you sprawled your legs back, collapsing your body on top of his. you drove your shoulder into his neck, which resulted in bakugo's face smushed against the mat. he might be strong, but no one's neck is that strong to hold up an entire person. you heard him audibly groan "fuck!"

you caught his arm & his head with one of yours. the two of you were on your knees, but your goal was to get him flat, stomach down. with his trapped arm & leg, you pulled him out from under you & quickly sped towards his back. you mounted him, keeping yourself close to his. you gazed up at your instructor, who gave you a knowing nod of approval.

like a good fighter, katsuki sprung his head up. he missed your nose, instead having his skull collide with your cheek. it hurt, but you had to keep going. "since when did you learn how to wrestle?"

"what do you mean?" you thought everyone knew. you swore that you've mentioned it in front of the class.

"you're fucking good, you know that?" he praised as he fought of your hands.

"you're not too bad yourself," you told him before you crossbody locked him.

"no, i'm being serious. you're too damn good. you're gonna be my partner every time we grapple."

you & bakugo, now you call him katsuki, have only grown closer since then. he would take time out of his study session to ensure you understood the material. before he could finish, the library assistant -a girl around your age- would ask if he needed help with anything, shy blush on her face.

other times he'd walk with you back to your dorms when a group of girls would ask for his number.

it was a constant occurrence; girls notice him, ask for something, then ultimately get rejected. it wasn't in a nice way either. he always degraded & humiliated them, but they'd let him because of how handsome he was.

it was a saturday afternoon where you & katsuki got food from a nearby convenience store & sat in the park. no scheduled training or overwhelming amounts of homework. he insisted on paying for you, & who are you to reject free food?

"okay, but i really have to ask," you started, eating your food, "why aren't you dating anyone?"

"i don't know," he simply put it, downing a bottle of a protein drink.

"you do know, you're just not telling me." you actually didn't know if that was true, you were just bluffing.

"fine, i'm just waiting for a some girl to realize i like her," he admitted so nonchalantly, as if he didn't drop a mind bomb.

your mood dampened. he was your dream guy, the more you hung out with him. you might have developed a crush on him, yet you didn't even realize he liked anyone else.

"no way! who?" you had to sound enthused or he would know something was up.

"no one, forget i said anything," he cleared.

"i want to know~ i can help find out her favorite flowers or something so you can confess!"

"really?" he asked, brow quirked. you nodded your head.

"tch, alright. what's your favorite flower?"

that didn't make any sense. "what?"

"you said that you're gonna help me confess, so what's your favorite flower?"

"katsuki, i don't think she has the same favorite flower than me."

"oh my god, you're so fuckin' dense," he muttered under his breath. "i want to know your favorite flower, y/n, so i can confess." his cheeks reddened as he gave you intense stare, studying your expression. it was still confused.

"confess to who-" he cut you off by putting his hand behind your head & pulling you into a kiss. it was gentle, passionate, & truly shocking to you.

"confess to you, idiot," he panted when the two of you pulled away. "i'm already here," he said with a fuck-it attitude.

"y/n, i've liked you for a long time, a really long time. i thought i made it obvious but you never really caught on cuz you're a dumbass or something."

you laughed, & he smiled at you.

he continued, "so then shitty hair told me i had to make it even more obvious, so that's what i've been doing this entire year."

"but all those girls-"

"yeah well i didn't know i was getting a fan club this year. honestly, they don't fuckin' matter though. what matters is you & i," he told you, his face still so close to yours. "so tell me, if you feel the same."

"i-i do," you stuttered out. in your defense, you were not used to such close proximity to anyone, let alone a sculpture chiseled by ancient greeks themselves.

"say it again," he said, voice deep & eyes half lidded. "i need to hear it again."

"i do, katsuki," you repeated per his request. "i really, really like you."

he pulled you into another kiss, & you both felt each other smile. it felt right.

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youunravelme · 7 months

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it's nice to have a friend

author's note: this is a little all over the place, but i saw a tiktok edit of seven by taylor swfit and then thought to myself, what if i ignore all my wips and wrote childhood friends to lovers with a hint of childhood trauma? and this was born. and if the timeline isn't perfect with reality, oh well. i'm but a human girl. also!! if you have ever experienced or currently experiencing abuse, please know that it was never your fault. you don't deserve to be treated that way.

pairing: mat barzal x reader

summary: wherever mat went, you were never too far behind or the one where you are childhood besties

warnings: cursing (as always), mentions of parental abuse and alcholism, tumultuous childhood, drinking, mentions of sex

there was a saying that floated around in your elementary, middle, and high school days, surrounding you like a warm oversized cardigan.

wherever mat went, you were never too far behind.

the saying could also be flipped, the two of you stuck to each other like glue.

mat, despite not being one for fights, had a bad habit of running his mouth whenever you were concerned. in fourth grade, he used newly learned vocabulary words to berate a girl who made fun of your beat up shoes and nearly got detention for it.

and you had a nasty habit of squaring up with anyone who looked at mat wrong, even if they towered over you.

your friendship worked well because of it.

age eight

you could remember summer days swimming in the pool with mat and liana, laughing as you and mat teamed up against his little sister until his mother scolded the two of you when she started crying.

but there was always a darkness that sat in the corners of your memories like fingerprints that had damaged an old photograph.

you didn't have to try to remember your parents' screaming and yelling at each other, just like you didn't have to try to recall the smell of alcohol on your father's breath. it didn't take any effort to remember the way your hands shook when you locked your room at night and climbed out of a second story window to go to mat's.

you could feel the splinters digging into your fingertips as you climbed the trellis up to his window. you could still feel the way your stomach dropped when you slipped and fell halfway up in the pouring rain, nearly breaking your arm in the process. you could still hear nadia come out and usher you inside moments before mat's eight year old feet came pattering down the stairs.

he didn't even give you time to explain, he just wrapped you up in a hug.

it took you that long to understand it was never raining, it was just tears.

the next week, you found yourselves at the park laying on your backs in the grass.

"what would you do if a genie gave you one wish?" mat asked out of the blue.

the summer sun kept you warm as the breeze kept sweeping in and blowing strands of hair into your face.

"get far away from here."

"would you bring me?" mat asked.

you turned your head to look at him only to find him already staring. "i wouldn't go anywhere without you." and you meant every word, spoke them with as much conviction as an eight year old could have.

mat reached out and squeezed your hand in his own.

"what would you wish for?"

he shrugged. "to be bigger."

you furrowed your brow. "why bigger?"

"so i could protect you better."

age nine

at nine, you and mat were playing cards in your room when the front door slammed. it was like you were on autopilot. of all the times that had happened, mat was never home with you. immediately, you were locking your door and shoving things in your backpack, pulling mat towards the window and climbing out as quickly as you could. the two of you ran to your bikes and biked all the way to an empty field where you collapsed in the tall grass and cried.

mat immediately brought you into his arms, hushing you and running his hand down your braids.

"what if--" he started stopped abruptly to clear his throat. "what if you stayed with me and liana and mom and dad? we could get bunk beds and a night light, if you want, and you wouldn't have to lock the door."

you just sobbed harder into his chest and shook your head.

it's not that simple, you wanted to tell him. but i wish it was.

age thirteen

you never moved in with mat, never got to get the bunk beds, but by middle school, your mom moved the two of you out of your old house. it was then that he started packing two lunches, one for you and another for himself.

things hadn't changed much since leaving your dad in that shitty house full of demons. you still spent most of your time at mat's house (your mom was working). still spent your saturdays going to his tournaments and games. you still cheered him on and let him cheat off your homework on sunday nights.

things shifted though, regardless if you wanted them to change or not. time, you found, never gave a shit about your opinion, thoughts, or desires.

because it felt like just yesterday, you were riding your bikes down the street, racing each other back home.

now, you were helping mat draft msn messages to a girl he had a crush on in your biology class. there was an uncomfortable sensation in your stomach that was comparable to the time you got food poisoning, but you couldn't place a reason for it.

you could paint the pink on his cheeks as the girl replied.

and you would've given anything to be the reason for it.

maybe it was silly, a small crush for the sheer convenience of it all. maybe it was the fact that he'd saved you so many times from the darkness that always seemed to follow you. maybe it was because he was a tether for you, pulling you back when you went too far in your head.

so when he laughed at something she said (which wasn't even really funny), you wanted to go back to the times the two of you would cloud gaze in the middle of the day just so you wouldn't have to be home.

age fifteen

you knew mat was a kind person, knew he was handsome and a good hockey player, that was never in question.

you just didn't realize other girls realized it too.

mat always walked in front of you in the hallways because he could make way through the crowds in ways you couldn't. (he grew like a weed over the summer and while you hated how you couldn't reach things when he held them above his head, you appreciated the way crowds moved out of the way for him).

you were used to him being in front, his grip light on your wrist as he tugged you behind him. you weren't used to walking behind his new girlfriend, chloe, who had the honor of walking beside him.

mat used to tell you how much it irritated him that people would take up so much space in the hallway and make it impossible to move around them.

but there you were, an awkward moving triangle of your best friend, his girlfriend, and you trailing pathetically behind.

chloe was cool. she never felt threatened by your friendship with mat, which might've hurt your feelings if you were delusional. you knew you had no chance with mat, so you'd take him in whatever form you could get him.

lately, that looked like spending time with liana in the stands at mat's tournaments. you would both do your homework before dissolving into gossip sessions while you braided her hair.

chloe even showed up for some games, smiling and cheering as he played. at one game, he scored and came up and tapped the glass in front of you, pointing at you and smiling.

they broke up two weeks later.

age sixteen

you openly cried when mat left for seattle. you were used to times when mat had hockey camps and would be gone for two weeks, a month at a time. but he would be gone indefinitely now.

and leading up to the day he was leaving, you thought it would be harder on you, considering mat hadn't shown anything but excitement. but when it came time for him to leave, he wouldn't let you go.

both of your moms had to pry you apart with promises that he would call and text as soon as he got to seattle.

and he did.

he hadn't even gotten into his new home when he was facetiming you.

you did your best to smile as he showed you around his new place, but your eyes were watering still. he was indefinitely two and a half hours away from you.

"you okay?" he asked when you stopped responding.

you gave him your best smile, but knew he wouldn't buy it. "just miss you is all."

he nodded, eyes going blank for a second before you saw water appear in them. mat wasn't as emotional as you were, and he for sure wasn't as teary eyed as he used to be when you still lived with your dad, but his eyes were watering all the same. "let's just treat it like summer camp," he said. "i'll be back before you know it, and if you need something, you can always call me."

you had no intentions of calling him with your problems, but then your dad showed up at your house screaming and beating the door and calling for your mother while she was at work. the doors were locked, he had no way in, and the police were on the way, but your hands were still shaking.

you couldn't run to his house to hug him anymore.

so you called him sobbing.

he picked up on the second ring.

he was lounging in bed, playing call of duty or something like it. "hey--" he cut himself off and paused his game, jumping out of bed. "what's wrong?"

"my dad," you sobbed.

mat was back in coquitlam in three hours, holding you tight to his chest and rocking you back and forth. you were openly weeping into his shirt, clinging to him. you weren't gonna let him go, and mat wasn't willing to give you up either.

you and your mom spent the night at the barzal's, with her taking the guest room while nadia brought a twin mattress into mat's room under the pretense that you would sleep on it.

you didn't.

everyone knew that you got into mat's queen sized bed and clung to him all night long.

just like everyone pretended that mat wouldn't have to leave in two days to go back to seattle.

just like you pretended like you wouldn't absolutely shatter on impact the second he left your sight.

age nineteen

when mat was drafted to the islanders, you stopped breathing. sure, it was dramatic, but you only moved into vancouver for school.

mat was moving across the fucking continent.

but he came back to seattle, and for a moment, the world was right again.

until he went to new york full time.

and the full weight of his absence hit you like a damn eighteen wheeler.

you'd watch him on the tv, when you used to watch him live in much smaller stands. you used to use puff paint to make t-shirts with his name on it, now they were selling his jersey in the arena he played in.

he didn't pick up the phone as much as he used to. he would respond to your texts days later until you stopped texting him altogether.

you should've seen it coming, especially when you saw him hanging out with instagram models and going out to bars. were you really expecting him to sit at home and wait for you to call him with a panic attack?

you had to get a grip.

so you did.

you threw yourself into your studies, pretending you didn't know his game schedule or stats. and when a cute boy named thomas came along and took interest, you allowed him to get to know you better.

you told him you grew up in coquitlam, that you were an only child, and your favorite school subject growing up was english.

(you never told him that your favorite color was the shade of mat's eyes, that you haven't spoken to your dad since the night your mom left him, or that every night, you fall asleep to career highlights of the best friend you haven't spoken to in months).

you learned he was a business major, something that should've been a red flag, but you were so focused on proving to yourself that you could be loved, that you overlooked it.

you went on dates, had sex, made plans for the future, met each other's families.

but he never met the barzals, despite the fact that you could drive to their house blindfolded.

no, they felt like a precious secret. the world could have number 13, they could have the calder memorial trophy winner, but you would not allow them to have the little sister whose hair you braided, the mother who brought you inside after you wrecked her trellis, the father who covered your scraped knees with bandaids and neosporin when your biological one was drunk at 2pm.

you might have lost mat to the awful curse called distance, but you would not lose his family.

you couldn't afford to lose them too.

now thomas, you lost a month after you turned twenty when you found him balls deep in your freshman roommate.

you went back to your apartment and cried, because it hurt, but mainly because you realized how alone you were. you had no one to call other than your mom or liana. but liana didn't even know about thomas, and your mom was dating a new guy now.

your thumb hovered over mat's contact for five minutes before you locked your phone and just went to bed.

age twenty-three

you were single for a whole year before you met dawson. his brown eyes and salt and pepper hair captivated you.

you were hooked, despite the seven year age gap.

he gave you the number to a good psychologist to help you work through your past and was willing to listen to you talk about it or sit in silence when your therapy session was emotionally exhausting.

he remembered your favorite flowers and brought a bouquet of them to your college graduation and kissed you in front of your mom and the barzals (minus mat, but that was a given at that point).

and on your twenty-third birthday, he proposed.

you said yes while actively trying to forget the dreams you and mat had when you were six.

you were building a fort in his bedroom with thumbtacks and blankets and sheets you'd stolen from around his house. when the project was complete, the two of you found yourselves laying in it, staring up at the blanket canopy shoddily held up by thumbtacks pushed into the wall.

"do you wanna get married?" mat had asked randomly.

"only if i get to marry you," you replied.

mat smiled a toothy grin, it was the only time you remembered him having imperfect teeth, given that he'd just lost his two front teeth. "i thought the same thing!"

and it was the most honest you had ever been. though, that wasn't a strange concept, most people were the most honest when they were either children or drunk. and considering you stayed far away from alcohol (guided by the anxiety in your stomach and the advice of your therapist), your childhood memories held the most truth.

despite not having seen him in years, you still thought of him often. you tried to see if you could remember the sound of his laugh without looking up an interview. you tried to recall the way his hair felt through your fingers.

but you couldn't.

it was crazy how much he meant to you as a child, how you still remembered the order in which he ate his breakfast, but you hadn't spoken to him in years.

you found yourself sobbing at the kitchen table one night as you poured over who to invite to the wedding. liana was a bridesmaid, mike and nadia had to be invited.

but what about mat?

you felt sick to your stomach at not inviting him. when you were in high school, when you'd gotten a grip on reality, you believed he'd walk you down the aisle in lieu of your piece of shit father.

but you hadn't spoken to him in so long.

though you couldn't imagine which would suck worse, not inviting him, or mat rejecting the invitation.

that was how dawson found you, sobbing over photos from your childhood that you wouldn't let him see. and when you tried to talk to him about it, he suggested talking to your therapist.

he broke off the engagement two weeks later. he said he didn't feel "the spark" anymore.

age twenty-four

you'd been out of college for two years now and all you had to show for it was debt and a stupid piece of paper. you were working in a coffee shop ten minutes from your mom's house and wishing you could've gotten out of coquitlam like mat did.

maybe this was your cursed existence, going to the grocery store wondering if you were going to ever run into your father again.

you'd just gotten off your shift at the coffee shop when you stopped by your local grocery store to pick some things up for dinner. it was supposed to be a normal day, but you turned the corner out of an aisle and damn near ran into someone.

"sorry, my bad--"

you looked up and suddenly the earth stopped in its rotation. you hadn't seen in him years but you'd know him blind.

his hands were around your elbows, keeping you upright. his touch almost burned you. it was an uncomfortable feeling, like putting on jeans you loved and realizing they don't fit anymore.

you pulled away, ducked your head, and started walking the opposite direction without another word.

but you should've known he would follow you, like a moth to a flame. or maybe that wasn't the right analogy, you were used to being the bug while mat was the light of your life.

but he followed you like there was a string attached to your wrists and he wasn't used to you pulling in an opposite direction.

he managed to catch up to you in the self care aisle right in front of the menstrual products. any other man you'd known would've shied away from standing in front of the tampons and pads as you deliberated which products to get, but mat's eyes wouldn't even leave your face.

you should've known he was going to come back eventually. you'd avoided seeing him in the offseason pretty well considering you were off doing internships and working out of town in the summer.

but now you were stuck in a dead end job with no passion for anything anymore, feeling more alone than you had ever felt before.

and because nature or god or the universe hated you, naturally, that was when mat showed back up.

when you had nothing to show for the years you didn't speak.

you could see the wheels turning in mat's head as he tried to think of something to say. it was an interesting turn of events that simultaneously sent an ache straight through your heart. when you were kids, he never hesitated to say exactly what was on his mind. now, he was deliberating.

"you wanna come over for dinner?" he asked. "mom's making tomato soup and grilled cheese."

you wished you could've denied him, it would've been smarter in the long run. mathew michael paul barzal could get you to do anything, and you hated that even after all those years, he still could.

you found yourself sitting at his old kitchen table surrounded by his family, dipping your grilled cheese into the soup like you were six years old again.

except the difference now was you were laughing with liana, sitting next to liana, instead of mat.

you'd occasionally meet his eyes from across the table, but it wasn't the same.

when you were kids, you sat next to each other at every opportunity. when you were kids, mat pretended to steal food off your plate. when you were kids, you knew everything about each other.

but you were adults now. and he was effectively a stranger you knew too much about.

after dinner, everyone scattered. you tried to leave, but mat caught up with you.

"what're you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

"working," you replied.

he nodded and looked around. "can i see you?"

you wanted so badly to say no, that you were busy, but as much as you wanted to pretend that he didn't, mat knew you better than anyone else, even if he had been absent for five years.

you ended up going for a walk in the park the next day, deciding that getting dinner wasn't worth the headache of mat getting recognized.

his hands were shoved in his pockets with a baseball cap pulled down low over his face. if you were brave enough to look over, you could still see his eyes taking glances at you.

"how's your mom?" mat asked, immediately jumping into topics you'd planned on ignoring.

you shrugged. "fine."

he nodded and scuffed his feet along the sidewalk. "how have you been?"

"fine." you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. you didn't mean to be cold, you meant it even less when you looked over and saw mat desperate for connection with you again.

in the end, you could never really deny him anything he wanted.

"life sucks right now," you admitted. "feel like i've wasted my life away here."

mat nodded along. "didn't you say your genie wish would be to leave?"

"i think my words were to 'get far away from here.'"

"you know," he started. "new york is far from here."

you couldn't help yourself. you looked up at him and saw the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "are you being serious?"

he nodded. "as a heart attack."

could this be the moment? the moment your life suddenly comes back into color? things haven't felt right since mat left for new york, and maybe moving, being with him all the time, would fix whatever existential crisis you were currently having.

the two of you were packing up your childhood room a month later .

you were on a flight to new york city two days after that.

mat was bouncing on his toes when he picked you up from the airport, having come home a few days early to get his apartment set up.

"you have to meet tito," he said as soon as the both of you got in his car. "you'll get along just fine. my childhood best friend meeting my other best friend? things couldn't be more perfect!"

you smiled though you felt like dying inside. no wonder you two lost touch, you were too ashamed to message him and he was too busy befriending his entire hockey team.

the apartment itself was large. larger than you could've ever afforded, even in coquitlam. mat brought your bags to your room and gently placed them on the floor.

"do you need any help unpacking?" he asked.

maybe a bitter part of you wanted to say no, but you'd waited for this moment for years. you nodded and mat's face lit up like a christmas tree.

while he was putting your clothes away in the dresser, he told you about his team, about his career, and all that you missed. he tried to ask about your life, but you kept up the story that nothing much had happened to you. and for the most part, you weren't lying.

you hadn't spoken to your dad, you hadn't dated anyone seriously in the last year (you conveniently left out the failed engagement. you just got into town, and couldn't afford a plane ticket to fly back to coquitlam just to bail mat out of jail).

but mat was more than content to listen to your work stories from when you were working at the coffee shop. he asked questions along the way, and momentarily, it felt like everything was headed back to normal.

you shooed him out of the room so you could shower. it was kinda incredible how a nice apartment meant that his shower was better than any other one you'd ever had growing up. when you stepped out into the nicely updated bathroom and changed into some gym shorts and a t-shirt, you felt the full weight of your insecurities hit you all at once.

your mat lived down the road from you. he had a twin bed until he was fifteen when his mom could no longer ignore the way his ankles hung off the end. he had posters of sidney crosby hanging up on the walls of his bedroom.

but this mat had expensive bathrooms and egyptian cotton sheets. you didn't get to see it yet, but you were willing to bet he had state of the art kitchen appliances that he didn't fully understand how to use outside of making eggs.

you were fully ready to walk into the living room, where you heard mat clicking through what must've been streaming services (because he could afford all of them), and tell him moving here was a mistake. too much had changed, he didn't know you anymore.

but you walked out and saw blankets and sheets strung up, pinned to the walls with pillows on the floor.

almost on cue, mat's head popped out from the makeshift fort, a bright smile on his face. "i don't have bunk beds, but i thought this would be a nice alternative."

you could've cried. you almost did.

but you sat down on a pillow and watched a movie with him instead.

two months later

mat had introduced you to anthony the second week you lived in new york. anders and matt you met the next week. the rest of the team you met over the course of the two months you'd lived with mat so far. they were all nice, and you could see why mat was so enthusiastic about his job, his passion for the sport aside.

you met his "not-girlfriend" as tito called her the day before. ashley was nice enough, but clearly not in the same tax bracket as you, who had recently gotten a job working at an indie bookstore while you worked on grad school applications.

you pretended to be too busy to notice the ache in your chest when he held her hand, remembering chloe and the nasty sensation internally of insecurity bubble up. you weren't dumb enough to not know you were jealous, insecurity was a closer friend than mat was, you'd known her longer.

and if comparison was a sport, you'd be making more money than he was at this rate.

because if it wasn't the way ashley laughed, it was her smile, or her stomach, or the gap between her thighs.

or the fact that mat looked at her with something more than a savior complex.

you stupidly agreed to go out to a bar with him, ashley, and a few islanders that night. it was dumb, you knew that going in, but you were finally with mat again, why wouldn't you spend every free moment with him?

it turned out to be a mistake.

you were left sipping a diet coke by your lonesome while he was dancing with ashley. you knew you shouldn't have done it, it was a bad idea, but you found yourself at the bar asking for a shot of literally anything the bartender would give you.

but anthony slid into the seat next to you a beat later and fixed you with a knowing look. "where's your diet coke?" he asked.

your mouth dried up when the shot was placed in front of you. your heart was pounding and for a moment, it felt like you could've thrown up.

when you didn't respond, anthony nodded and stood up. "wanna go take a breather?" and he sounded so genuine that your eyes immediately welled up with tears as you nodded.

the two of you walked outside and stood in the cool air, letting the wind hit your wet cheeks.

you looked out onto the street while anthony texted on his phone. "do you want to go home?" he asked as soon as he slipped his cellphone back into his pocket.

you shrugged. "i don't know what i want."

that was a lie. you wanted to go back to a time where mat was just your best friend, before he was number 13 for the islanders, before he won the calder memorial trophy. you wanted your best friend, the one who raced you down the neighborhood streets on bikes, who drove three hours to see you when you had a panic attack.

you wanted a childhood that wasn't tainted with the darkness of your father's mistakes. you wanted to be able to go into a room and not immediately check if you could lock the door. you wanted to be able to fall asleep in a dark room without being deathly afraid.

mat was outside a second later, huffing and puffing like he'd just run a mile. his gaze was fixed on you almost immediately, while he ignored the way ashley hung off of him. "what's wrong?" he asked. he even went as far as to pry ashley off of his body so he could frame your face in his large hands.

in the corner of you eye, you saw anthony usher ashley back inside while you and mat had a staring contest. "what happened?"

you shook your head and tried to speak, but more tears spilled out. mat nodded and pursed his lips before grabbing your hand and walking you home.

he didn't say anything else until the front door shut behind you. you had no intentions of staying in the common area, you just wanted to curl up in bed and cry yourself to sleep out of shame and pity.

"what were you doing at the bar?" mat asked before you could go anywhere. "you still had diet coke in your glass."

your throat seized up at feeling caught, but you stood your ground.

"i didn't think you drank," he continued. "mainly because--"

"because my dad's an abusive alcholic? yeah, you don't need to tell me that, mat, i already know."

"so if you know that, why did tito see you order a shot from the bartender?"

you threw your hands up in the air and shrugged. "i don't know, mathew. why do you invite me to bars when you know i don't drink?" he didn't have an answer. "you don't get to shame me for considering having a drink when a bar is the only place i get to hang out with you during the season!"

"that's not--" but he cut himself off. "what're you talking about?"

"i hardly see you! why did i move across the continent if i have to go to a scary place just to spend time with you?"

"i--"

"i mean it's not fair, you left and now i have to pay the consequences of it--"

"i'm sorry, what?"

"you left--"

"i heard you. did you forget the part where you stopped contacting me?" you rolled your eyes to keep yourself from crying even more. "uh uh, don't do that. don't blame me without taking accountability for this friendship ending."

you blinked.

but mat wasn't done. "because i always called you back when i missed your calls. you were the one who stopped texting me."

"you were too busy!"

"i'm in the nhl! did you expect me to just be laying around my apartment all day? i have practices and meetings and games at weird times, but i always made sure to get back to you."

you said nothing, the tears welling up behind your eyes, but you kept them in. the verbal lashing from mat was enough, you didn't need to further embarrass yourself by crying too.

he kept going, yelling and waving his hands around, occasionally pacing and dragging his fingers through his unruly hair.

but you zoned out.

you could hear glass bottles rattling as your father came up the stairs. you sat on your bed, hoping to god he'd just keep walking. mat was out of town for a tournament, and you were grounded.

your dad stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at you. your heart was racing in your chest and you wanted nothing more than to text mat, but your mom had your phone. "what're you lookin' at?" he slurred.

it was only 1pm.

and your mom was still at work.

but he apparently didn't feel like bothering you because he turned into his bedroom and shut the door.

you could feel the air release from your lungs before you went back to reading your book.

but the peace never lasted long. thirty minutes later you could hear him yelling and screaming obscenities before he opened his door. you launched yourself out of bed and slammed your own door shut, quickly locking it with an efficiency you'd learned at a young age. the door handle rattled and you flinched backwards, nearly tripping over clothes on the floor.

but you weren't a stranger to this situation.

you opened the window and climbed out.

but he was ready for you this time because he was at the front door screaming at you as you rode away on your bike.

you didn't stop pedaling until you got to the park where you collapsed on the grass and cried.

something in your face must've changed, because mat stopped yelling and looked at you, really looked at you.

"hey," he said, voice much quieter than before. "where'd you go?"

you shook your head, tears falling down your face uncontrollably.

"don't do that," he said. "don't shut me out." mat took a step closer to you, but you immediately stepped backwards. he breathed your name, but something in his eyes shifted, like he could read your mind. "i'm not him," he whispered. "i'm not your dad, i'm not going to hurt you. you know me, you know i wouldn't do that."

"you left," was all you could say.

mat nodded. "i did, but i didn't leave you, okay? i would never leave you." he closed the distance between you and held your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the constant flow of water from the corners of your eyes.

"but--"

he shook his head. "no, you mean too much to me to leave you, okay? you're my best friend. if you had called me and needed me? i would've been there as soon as i could."

"you would've been too busy--"

he pulled back, a bit bewildered. "when have i ever been too busy for you?"

you held your tongue, knowing that it wasn't him per se.

"what is it?" he asked, his eyes searching your own. "what aren't you telling me?"

so you told him about how you hadn't talked to your dad, and even though you were thousands of miles away, you were still scared he'd find you and ruin your life even more. you told him about thomas, about how you thought he could be the thing that fixed you, but he cheated on you.

you told him about dawson, who was older and more mature. you told mat how dawson got you going to therapy which you thought was a good sign, until you realized he never actually wanted to talk about your bad days. he proposed, you said yes, and then he broke off the engagement when he saw you sobbing over invitations.

your eyes were too blurry to see the way mat's jaw clenched, but you could feel him pull his hands away.before you could even stop yourself, you stretched out for him, but he was just out of reach.

"mat, what," you weeped. "what's wrong?"

"you were engaged?" he mumbled. "you were engaged and didn't tell me?" you expected him to look mad, but the only thing reflected in those deep brown eyes was hurt.

"that's why he broke up with me, i was crying over childhood photos while trying to figure out if i should invite you even when we hadn't talked in years." you shrugged pathetically and gave mat a watery smile. "guess he thought it was too immature of me."

mat's hands were clenching and unclenching by his side, like he couldn't decide what he wanted to do with them.

"please don't hate me," you whispered. "i don't think i could handle it if you hated me." but he didn't say anything, mat just resulted to pacing the living room. "i think my dad fucked me up beyond repair." your eyes never left his profile. if he wouldn't look at you, that was fine, you'd continue to stare at him. "i think i'm too codependent and messed up for anyone to love me." mat's head snapped up at that comment.

"i mean," you continued. "i wasn't enough for my dad to get sober, i wasn't enough to not get cheated on, i wasn't enough for someone to marry me. maybe it's not them. maybe i'm the issue."

"no," he said immediately, shaking his head in the process, crossing the room until he could pull you into his chest. "no. that's not true."

"yes it is! my dad doesn't love anything more than alcohol--"

mat cut you off. "anyone would've been proud to have you as a daughter."

"thomas wanted my freshman roommate--"

"thomas was an idiot."

"dawson couldn't handle me when i wasn't happy--"

"fuck him too. he was thirty dating a college student."

"and you left and i--"

mat pulled you back far enough to look you in the face. "and if i could do it all over again, i'd take you with me." he pressed his forehead against yours. "here's what we're gonna do, we're gonna make a fort and watch the mighty ducks. and tomorrow, we're gonna find you the best therapist money can buy and set up an appointment because i don't like you talking about yourself this way." your stomach twisted at the idea of therapy, hesitant because of dawson-- "and i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me, okay?"

you nodded.

"now, i need to see you smile so i know we'll be alright." you gave him a watery smile right before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "there she is."

you held onto each other for another minute before reluctantly letting go to gather blankets and pillows.

four months later

you hadn't been able to make it to many of mat's games until tonight when they played the devils at home. you sat with sydney and grace and their kids.

earlier that night, you'd gone to your therapy session and cried your eyes out. after years of feeling like you weren't a human being worthy of love, you just started seeing value in just existing.

and mat was as supportive as ever. he gave you space after therapy sessions to process until you were ready to talk to him, if you wanted to. the two of you made plans to hang out at cafes and central park rather than at bars every weekend.

"look at your man go," grace nudged you with her elbow. "he's feeling good tonight."

"i'm sure it has everything to do with you being here," sydney commented. "i've never seen that man more in love than he is right now."

you could feel the heat crawl up your neck as you shook your head. "he's my best friend."

"a best friend who loves you so much, he's willing to keep things platonic for your sake."

almost immediately, an insecure thought popped in your head, but you stopped it in its tracks, imagining the thought on a conveyor belt, moving down the belt until it was out of sight completely.

your shoulders relaxed.

you deserved to be loved, and it if was mat, great.

if not, you'd still have him as your best friend.

a buzzer sounded through the arena and a quick glance at the ice told you all you needed to know. mat was skating into a cluster of his teammates, smiling wide before pointing up at where he knew you were sitting.

grace and sydney jostled you around a little while fans, male and female alike, screamed at the idea of the mat barzal pointing at them.

when the game ended (5-4 with the islanders win), you followed sydney and grace down to the locker rooms. you met up with the other wags and smiled when they greeted you. some chatted and passed time while others rocked babies in their arms. you however were anxiously looking through your photos on your phone, specifically the album labeled mat that you'd had since you'd first gotten an iphone. you didn't glance up until you hear the sound of doors opening.

mat was the seventh person out, not that you were counting. he wore a bright smile when he saw you standing there and immediately crossed the distance between the two of you to wrap you in a huge hug.

"how was therapy?" he asked.

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. "why do we always talk about me?"

"because i care." he lightly nudged your shoulder. "so how did it go?"

"it was good, actually," you remarked. "figured out and accepted that i deserve love."

if it was even possible, mat's smile got wider. "yeah you do."

"and maybe there are people waiting around for me to figure it out..." you trailed off before shyly meeting his gaze. and before you could stop yourself, before you ran out of courage, you stood on your tiptoes (like you've been doing since he hit his growth spurt in seventh grade) and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

you lingered for a moment before pulling away and loooking up at your bewildered best friend whose mouth was wide open.

"what?" you asked. "did i read that wrong? sydney and grace said--"

"that's all i get?" he asked. "i've waited for this since i was six years old and i don't even get the real thing?"

you furrowed your brow. "what're you talking about? six years old?"

but mat was leaning in and capturing your lips with his own. "six year old mat had the biggest crush on six year old you," he said.

"and what about twenty-four year old mat?"

he kissed you again. "head over heels for you."

age twenty-six

after a less than stellar playoff run, you and mat headed back to canada for a portion of the off season, mainly to visit family.

but it was also nice to get out of new york, even if it was just for a short period.

in hindsight, you should've known something was going to happen. your mother, nadia, and liana took you to get your nails done and to grab lunch while you were out shopping. but you were so caught up in how nice it was to be back home (words you never thought you'd ever say), you paid no attention to the lack of mat time.

so when you walked into the backyard of his parents' house and saw a giant projector screen with blankets and pillows strewn about to make yet another fort, you almost cried.

mat's head popped out from the middle with a smile on his face until he saw the tears in your eyes. "why're you crying baby? this is supposed to be happy!"

"i love you" was all you could blubber out.

mat laughed to himself, taking your hands in his own. "i love you too baby." he knelt down and the tears kept coming down your face. "ever since i was a kid, i thought i'd be the one walking you down the aisle to the man you'd marry because i never thought you'd be crazy enough to fall in love with me."

you scoffed. "i'm definitely the one batting out of my league here, mathew."

"don't talk about the love of my life that way," he said before continuing on. "we've gone through a lot together, and i couldn't imagine getting through life without you by my side." mat took a deep breath. "so tell me, do you wanna get married?" mat asked.

you nodded through your weeping. "only if i get to marry you," you smiled.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal #mathew barzal imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl blurb

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months

Text

A flock of elephants

Written for the November warm-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Bakery AU

Rated: T

CW: some sexual tension and innuendo

Tags: Baker Steve, Rockstar Eddie

Notes: Can be read as a continuation of this microfic

“You don't understand how huge a deal this is, Steve,” Dustin says. He’s wiggling in the passenger seat, trying to take in every bit of their surroundings as they pull up to the concert hall.

Steve huffs and squints at the signs. There's security and fans and staff everywhere and he can feel a headache coming up.

"A guy asked me to bake a cake, so what? It's literally what I do for a living, nothing-"

"A guy asked you to-" Dustin sputters. "Excuse me, what did you say? Eddie Munson commissioned you to bake a replica of his world famous Warlock, do you have any- Do you even know who Eddie Munson is?"

"Of course I know," Steve grouses. "I don't live under a rock."

"Oh yeah?" Dustin levels him with an unimpressed look. "Name one of his songs."

"Please," Steve rolls his eyes. "You're blasting that shit on repeat, it's practically seared into my brain. Especially the one about the elephants."

Dustin stares at him. Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose.

"You know the one! What was it? Flock of Elephants?"

Dustin crumples into the car seat and slaps both palms to his forehead. "It's A Court of Sycophants, Steve! Oh my God!"

"Synchro-what?" Steve ignores the way his neck prickles and takes a sharp right. "You just made that up. Now help me look for the delivery entrance or we won't have ourselves a deal at all."

Once they find the entrance, it turns out he forgot the ID badge that the label sent, because of fucking course he did. He spends about half an hour trying to convince the grumpy security guard to let them in while Dustin has a complete meltdown. Just as he's ready to give up, they're rescued by the appearance of a tiny blonde in a pink cardigan who cheerfully introduces herself as Eddie’s manager.

"Sorry about Hop," she says for what must be the fourth time, while Steve sets up the guitar-shaped cake at the center of the buffet and Dustin inspects the backstage lounge with awestruck eyes. "He takes his job very seriously."

"Yeah, I noticed," Steve mutters. She seems nice enough, but he really doesn’t wanna engage in smalltalk right now. The bustle of the stage hands and the hot air of the venue are making him squeamish. All he wants to do is get this over with and go home.

Unfortunately fate must hate him, because that is the exact moment that a familiar voice says, "Hey, Chris. No matter what Hop tells you, I didn't order hookers to the venue. I dunno where he got the-"

Dustin starts squealing.

"Oh my God, you're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie squints at him like a confused cat.

"Last time I checked, yeah. And you are?"

"Dustin," says Dustin, like that explains everything. "I'm with Steve."

Eddie’s eyes flit over and his face breaks into a delighted, dimpled smile.

"Baker boy, hi!"

Steve's mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t know why, but all of the easy confidence of their last meeting is suddenly gone.

Maybe it's because they were in the bakery, on his own turf, and now they're on Eddie’s, where the lights and the noise and the hum of the crowd in the auditorium are grating on his nerves.

Maybe it's because last time, Eddie looked like just some guy in his ripped jeans and ratty hoody, unwashed hair piled in a chaotic bun, and now …

… now he's in a pair of leather pants that are so tight they may as well be spray-painted on and what looks like a fucking harness, hair cascading around his face and shoulders in a halo of messy curls and is that eyeliner?

"Woah," Eddie breathes, eyes growing large, and yup, eyeliner. Definitely eyeliner, Jesus fucking Christ. With two long strides of those impossibly long legs, he's beside Steve and ogling the cake with an awestruck face. "This is fucking incredible, dude, it looks just like the real thing. You did all that from the photos?"

By some miracle, Steve manages to channel the incoming blush into a sly pop of his hips and a smug eyebrow quirk.

"Told you I was the best."

Eddie is looking at him like he didn't bake a cake but hung the moon, which … in combination with the eyeliner and the leather and the harness of it all? Steve squirms in his jeans.

"Okay, erm … if that's all, I'll send over the bill by-"

"Wait, what? You're not staying for the show?" Eddie swivels to Chrissy, all righteous indignation. "Why are they not staying for the show?"

Chrissy shrugs, at the same time that Steve says, "That's really not necessa-"

"We'd love to stay!"

Dustin shoves himself between them, elbowing him in the kidneys. While Steve is still coughing, Eddie turns to Chrissy.

"Show the young man to the backstage area, Chris?"

Dustin looks like he's about to die of happiness, so Steve resigns himself to his fate.

"Will you play the one about the psychopaths?" he asks as they trail after him. "It's his favorite."

"Psycho-" Eddie’s brow wrinkles.

"Sycophants, Steve!" Dustin hollers from ahead. "Jesus!"

"Anyways," Steve says over Eddie’s rumbling laughter. "You really didn't have to-"

"I know I didn't." Eddie accepts his guitar - the real one - from a stage hand and slings it over his shoulder. "But I saw what you're best at, so I figured I'd return the favor."

"Careful there," Steve huffs. "All you've done is ogle my cake. You may wanna try it first."

"Oh, I'm planning to …" Eddie's smile is sharp as he leans in, close to his ear. "Preferably with less people around, though."

And then he's gone, stepping out on the stage, making his guitar wail.

Steve can't quite tell if the roar in his ears is the crowd or the sound of his own blood.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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octoberclidan · 7 months

Text

It's Just Sam

Request: ok im not used to requesting yet so sorry if im doing this wrong but im sad so i need me some early seasons sam fluff (MAYBBBE EVEN SMUT🫢)like reader jokingly calling him sammy and he starts acting all weird or something (andd somehow leads to smut?)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Note: This is 18+, do not read if you're under 18.

Masterlist

Story:

"So, it's all over now?" [Y/N] asked, wrapping her cardigan tight around her, the cold night air forming goosebumps on her arms.

"Should be, you saw him burn up, right?" Sam asked, looking up to the room of the hotel where they'd all just spent an hour being thrown around by a vengeful spirit.

"Yeah... yeah I did". She chuckled, not quite believing the night she'd just had.

"You were awesome, the way you dodged him and figured out it was the painting, you handled that like a pro". Dean smiled at her and clapped her back, causing her to stumbled forwards a little. "Sorry". He grimaced but she laughed it off.

"It's okay, nothing compared to being thrown around by a ghost for an hour in a little hotel room".

"How's your arm?" Sam asked, looking at how she was holding it with her other hand.

"It's fine, I think it'll just bruise. Nothing broken anyway. How's your back? You got thrown against that wall pretty hard".

"Oh he's used to it, right Sammy?" Dean smirked at him.

"Sammy?" She asked, looking up at the man who had just saved her life. They had burst into her room just as the ghost had appeared, time to exchange names hadn't really come up yet. Now that she was looking at him properly, she could see genuine concern in his face. He was extremely handsome, very tall, very broad, but was crossing his arms as if he was trying to make himself seem smaller, maybe less intimidating than he naturally came across as.

He cleared his throat, glaring at Dean. "It's uh, Sam. It's just Sam. Dean's my brother, it's just him who calls me that".

"Oh.. I'm sorry". She blushed and looked away from him.

"No don't be, it's fine". His cheeks now blushing too. "You should get some rest, I bet you're tired".

She shivered from the cold and looked up to her hotel room, the light still on. "Yeah... not sure how much sleep I'm gonna get after all that, plus the smell of burnt paint". She laughed, the heat from her breath fogging the air.

"Maybe they have another room you could switch to?" Sam suggested but Dean hit him on the back of his head, [Y/N] missing the interaction as she continued to stare up at the room, visions of the ghost still at the front of her mind.

"Or Sammy could stay with you, protect you, he's good at that". If she'd been more familiar with Dean's voice she would've heard the smirk through it. "I'm gonna head out to the bar and I don't intend on being back until morning, so there's a spare bed in our motel room just down the road. Not as fancy as this hotel but as motels go, it's not bad". She turned around to see him wink at her.

"I wouldn't want to intrude, I could-"

"You wouldn't be intruding!" Sam cut her off quickly. A little bit too quickly. He cleared his throat again, and avoided Dean's direction, though he could already see Dean's smirk very clearly in his mind. "I mean, you probably wouldn't get much sleep staying here tonight, and the motel isn't that bad. I'm sure you have questions too, I don't mind answering them?"

"Oh, well yeah, if you really don't mind then that would be nice". She smiled at Sam and he nodded at her, visibly relaxing and now hopeful that he didn't come across as too enthusiastic.

"We'll help you get your stuff, then I need a drink". Dean clapped Sam's shoulder and pressed his hand to the small of [Y/N]'s back, pushing them in front of him to stand beside each other as he guided them back through to the hotel's reception. Sam's arm brushed against [Y/N]'s and he mumbled a 'sorry', looking down at her and rolling his eyes back to his brother, smiling when [Y/N] giggled at him.

***

"Sorry again about Dean". Sam said as he opened the door to the motel room. He had [Y/N]'s bag over his shoulder and she followed behind him, not being able to help her eyes wander across the large expanse of his back. His jacket and t-shirt had rucked up a bit from the bag and she could see tanned skin just above the waistband of his jeans.

"It's okay". She said as she closed the door behind them. Sam let the bag down on one of the beds and went to sit on the other, facing her. "Thanks for everything". She breathed out as she walked to the bed with her bag on it, sitting down beside it and facing Sam. "So, this is what you guys do? Kill ghosts?"

"And monsters, demons, anything that hurts people really". He shrugged casually, and she widened her eyes at how nonchalant he was about it.

"All of that is in this small town?"

"No, no we travel around. We're actually kinda looking for our dad at the moment, we just take on cases as we come across them".

She sat there for a moment, taking it in. Just an hour ago she had no idea that anything supernatural existed, and now she was sitting opposite a guy who hunted supernatural beings for a living. "How long have you been doing this? You and your brother?" She asked and he looked away, almost a look of shame on his face.

"My mom died when I was a baby, Dean was four. Demon. My dad's been hunting it down ever since, so I guess I've been in it pretty much my whole life. Except, I spent four years in college, Dean came to get me a few months ago". She raised an eyebrow at this.

"You went to college? Like, to study the supernatural or something?"

"No". Sam chuckled. "I was studying law actually". He looked back to her and smiled sadly. "Wasn't meant to be. This is my life, me and Dean. Saving people, hunting things, the family business, as he says anyway". He sighed, as if he was relieved to have someone to explain it to. "What about you? What brings you here?"

"This is just a stop, I'm on my way home from staying with a friend for a few weeks. I should be home tomorrow afternoon". She covered her mouth as she yawned. "I think I should get some sleep, I have a long drive ahead of me tomorrow". He nodded as she said this.

"You should use the bathroom first then". He said and she stood up, smiling at him before grabbing her bag and heading to the bathroom. She closed the lid on the toilet and sat on it, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She wasn't actually that tired, but looking at Sam for so long was difficult. He was incredibly attractive, genuine, and big. If she'd sat in front of him for any longer she would've found it difficult to hide the fact that she'd been pressing her legs together, trying to relieve some tension. She felt ridiculous. She'd just found out about the supernatural, had been thrown around by a ghost, saved by two strangers, and was now alone in a motel room with one of them, and all she could think about was touching his skin. She imagined how his hair would feel between her fingers, how his lips would feel on his neck, what he tasted like...

"[Y/N]"? Sam's muffled voice travelled through the door as he knocked on it. She shook her head and cleared her throat.

"Yeah?"

"You okay in there?"

"Yeah... yeah give me a minute".

"Take your time, just checking on you". She stood up and looked into the mirror above the sink. Just checking on you, she added 'considerate' to her list of adjective for Sam. She quickly turned on the tap and splashed some cold water into her face in an attempt to calm herself down. She stripped out of her clothes and rummaged through her bag for her pyjamas, setting them on the counter as she pulled out her toiletries. She scooped up her hair onto the top of her head, securing it there as she stepped into the shower. She was pleasantly surprised to find the water hot, making sure to make it quick and not use it all up.

Once she was washed and into her pyjamas, which consisted of a loose t-shirt and shorts, she left the room and walked past Sam to her bed. He looked up at her as she walked by and he swallowed nervously, trying not to stare at her bare legs or how the baggy shirt left part of her shoulder exposed. He quickly excused himself to the bathroom, and she lay back on the bed, her mind once again wandering, imagining what the room she'd just been in now looked like with Sam in there. She imagined how the water looked dripping from his body, how he'd spread the soap over his torso, his legs, his arms. She let out a shaky breath as she pictured what was happening just beyond the thin wooden door between them.

She was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of the door unlocking, and she tried not to stare as Sam stepped out, dressed in jeans and a new t-shirt which just about fit, apart from his arms, where it hugged his muscles a little too tight. Droplets of water dripped from his hair onto his shoulder as he sat down on his bed, looking straight at [Y/N], watching her as she looked at his body, no longer able to stop herself. He chuckled and this caught her attention, pulling her gaze up to his face, where she noted his dimples before locking eyes with him. "What you thinking about?" He asked, grinning at her. She blushed and swallowed, looking away and shaking her head.

"Sorry".

"Don't be. I should take a look at that arm, just to check it". He said as he stood up to cross over to her bed, sitting on the edge of it and reaching his hand out to her. She sat up and reached towards him. He lifted her arm and placed it in his hand. He was warm, safe. He looked it over and gently turned it over, a look of concentration on his face as he examined it. "Just a bruise. Dean was right, you were great in there".

"You think?" She asked quietly, her arm still in Sam's hand.

"Yeah, a lot of people freeze. You didn't, you listened to us and figured out what needed to burn. It was refreshing". His thumb now lightly glided over her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps as it did. "Are you cold?" He asked as he saw her try to hide a shiver.

"A little".

"Why don't you get under the covers then and get some sleep, I'll help you with your stuff in the morning". He smiled and let go of her arm before getting up, giving her space to pull back her covers and slide in.

"Thank you again, for everything. I can't imagine what would have happened if you two hadn't shown up when you had". She looked up to him as he sat back down on her bed.

"You're safe now". He smiled. He leaned over cautiously, giving her time to move away, and pressed his lips to her forehead. Without thinking she reached up and lightly touched his cheek as he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. She absentmindedly stroked his jaw, slightly scratchy from the light shadow of stubble on it. When he made no indication of pulling away farther, her thumb lightly skimmed his lower lip, and he brought his hand up to rest on her cheek, returning the favour. He kissed her thumb, keeping eye contact with her.

"Sam". She whispered, not calling to him, not trying to get his attention, just liking the feel of his name on her lips. She slipped her hand to the back of his neck, letting his damp hair slip through her fingers as she made an attempt to pull him closer. He obliged, leaning down so his lips hovered over hers. They closed their eyes as their lips touched, both of them slightly hesitant. She licked at his lips and he immediately let her in, deepening the kiss as their tongues worked together. Her grip in his hair tightened and he groaned, pushing her hands around her back and pulling her up, letting the covers slide off and lifting her, putting his hand under her knee to pull her over onto his lap so she was straddling him. His hands rested on her hips, slowly encouraging her to grind against him as she broke the kiss, kissing down his jaw and settling into his neck where she kissed and licked. He leaned his head to the side, giving her more access as he pushed one of his hands under her t-shirt, grabbing her waist.

"I want to feel you". She whispered into his ear as her hands trailed down his sides to the hem of his t-shirt. He threw his head back and groaned before leaning in to kiss her jaw.

"Take it off then". He mumbled into her skin. She grabbed his shirt and pulled up until she couldn't reach anymore, then he helped and threw it into a corner of the room. She sat back in his lap and placed her hands onto his chest, feeling his heart beat quickly beneath them. Slowly, she let her hands fall down his chest, feeling the muscles in his abdomen tense as she glided over them. He shivered as she reached his waistband, his skin warm under her finger tips. He grabbed her hands and placed them over his belt. "Take it off". He whispered into her ear, returning his hands to her waist as she began to unbuckle his belt. Once his belt was off, he pushed her shirt up and over her head, immediately reaching around to unclasp her bra, leaving her in just her shorts. He stared at her for a moment, blush slowly creeping onto his cheeks as he thought about the situation he was in. "You're beautiful". He tentatively raised a hand to grab a boob, the other resting on her hip, one of his fingers dipping into her waistband. She returned to his neck as he felt her, moaning as she kissed up along his jaw and finally settled on his lips again. She could feel him hard beneath her as she rocked her hips back and forth over him.

"I need more". He decided as he flipped her over onto the bed and crawled on top of her, kissing up her stomach and between her breasts, up along her neck and jaw to her lips. She clung onto his shoulders as he reached down and pushed her shorts down. "Can I have more?" He whispered into her mouth and she nodded immediately.

"You can have whatever you want, Sam". She kicked off her shorts and spread her legs for him. His fingers danced around the top of her panties before they dipped inside. He groaned at the wetness and continued to kiss her as he pushed a finger inside, feeling the warmth and softness of her. "Sam". She moaned as he used his thumb to brush against her clit. He continued to work her up, slipping another finger inside, and then another, hitting just the right spot inside her. When he felt her tighten up he'd pull away for a moment, smiling as she whimpered, before working her back up again. "I want to feel you too". She moaned after his third go at edging her. He pushed himself off her and stood up. She looked up as he stood between her legs and pushed his jeans and boxers down in one go, his cock standing up against his stomach as he stepped out of his clothes. She quickly pulled her panties down and kicked them off as Sam leaned over to the bag on his bed, pulling out a little silver foil.

"We don't have to do everything if you don't want to, just let me know". He said as he lay the foil down on the bed and pulled her up into a sitting position. He remained standing between her legs as she looked over his body. "You can touch me, if you want". He said as he tucked her hair behind her ear. She nodded and reached forward, closing her hand around him and smiling as he twitched against her touch. She began to slowly pump him up and down, twisting slightly, brushing her thumb over his slit to collect some of the precum and spread it over his length. "That feels amazing". He groaned as he knocked his head back, starting to thrust into her hand. She leaned forwards and licked him from the base to the tip. "Fuck". He muttered as he looked down at her. She knew he'd taste good, and looking up at the pleasure on his face just made her more eager to continue. She took him completely into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she continued to lick around him. He grabbed her hair and held it back as she blew him, enjoying every moment until he pulled her off him. "I won't last if you keep that up, I want to be inside you".

"I want that too". She wiped her mouth quickly and pushed herself back onto the bed as he grabbed the foil. He tore it open with his teeth as if it was something he did every day, and for the first time that night, she wondered just how many times he'd slept with the girl he'd saved. She quickly pushed that out of her head as she watched him roll the condom on, pinching the tip before crawling back over her. He rubbed his tip against her entrance a couple of times before looking into her eyes. "Are you good?" He asked and she nodded, keeping eye contact with him as he slowly pushed inside her, pulling a moan from her lips. "Fuck... you feel good". He chuckled quietly as he leaned down to kiss her. "Can I move?" He asked as he pecked the corner of her mouth. She quickly nodded and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. He kissed her again as he pulled out, leaving just the head inside before thrusting back in. They kissed each other as Sam rocked his hips into her, quickly slipping into a steady pace. He reached down to circle her clit as he kissed her neck and she gasped at the sensation.

She could feel the pressure building back up again, stronger than before now that Sam was filling her, hitting the right spot with each thrust, giving her clit just the right amount of attention. She lightly bit his earlobe and kissed his jaw as he remained nestled into her neck, the vibrations from his moans spreading throughout her. They began to moan each other's name as she tightened around him, all of the pressure suddenly being released and travelling up throughout her body and down through her legs. She shook around him as he stilled inside of her, spilling into the condom. He collapsed on top of her, resting his head in between her neck and shoulder as he caught his breath. She turned her head to kiss his cheek and pushed her hand into his hair, gently rubbing his head while catching her own breath. "Sorry". He mumbled into her. "I'm squishing you". He pushed himself up and leaned his elbows either side of her head before ducking down to kiss her lips. "You're incredible".

"So are you". She giggled and cupped his cheek, pulling him back down for another kiss. "I think I need another shower".

He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I think I need one too. Wanna share?" He asked and she nodded, letting him pull her up with him. She expected him to let go once she had her feet on the ground, but he scooped her up into his arms and held her against his chest, carrying her into the bathroom. "I think we'll only need one bed tonight". He grinned at her, showing off his dimples again as he set her down in front of the toilet, leaning into the shower to turn it on.

"Definitely". She grinned back at him.

The end

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russellsppttemplates · 19 days

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hello! Can I ask about Oscar and his youngest son's first day of school? Where his son is very nervous and fears what might happen but he calms him down

"You must be Jack!", the young man said, crouching down in front of your son so he could face him, "I'm Luke and I'm going to be your teacher", he introduced himself.

"Hi, I'm Jack", he said, looking around the environment he was in. You did tell him he would be going to spend the day with new people and meet all his new friends, and there seemed to be toys to play with like his brother told him.

"You can stay here with him at the start while we wait for the other little legends", he smiled before greeting another family that stood by the classroom door, "you can leave your things in the cube with your name, Jack!", he pointed.

You noticed your son walking slowly, always making sure you and Oscar were near him as you put his backpack on the cube alongside his cardigan, "is everything alright, buddy?", Oscar asked once he noticed tears pooling in his eyes as he looked at the floor.

"What's wrong, love?", you asked, crouching down so he could hug you, his little arms wrapping around your neck as his tears soaked your shirt, "it's okay, little man, it's okay", you soothed as you rubbed circles on his back.

"Do you want to tell us why you're upset?", Oscar encouraged softly as he sat down on the floor, you following his movements and kneeling down so you would be more comfortable.

Jack looked at both of you, "I'm going to spend the day here, right? What am I going to do the whole time?", he asked.

"You can't read yet, but Luke has a timetable on the board there", you smiled as you pointed out to the projected timetable, "right now, you're going to wait for everyone to arrive, then you'll introduce yourselves, and then you'll have snack time".

"Then you'll come back to the classroom for some arts and crafts", Oscar carried on, "then onto lunch time, which sounds delicious because it's spaghetti, and then you're going to spend the afternoon playing outside".

"Oh, okay, and then you'll come to pick me up?", Jack questioned. If you were telling him the truth, it didn't sound that bad.

"Yes, love, me and daddy will come pick you up and then we'll go pick up Lucas, how does that sound?", you suggested.

"Sounds nice", he mumbled.

"If there is any problem, your teacher can call us and we will come to get you, okay?", Oscar checked, not wanting him to not do it because he thought he'd be bothering you.

Luke approached you with a little boy next to him, "Jack, this is Colin and he and the rest of the class were wondering if you'd like to come with them to paint in that big sheet", he spoke to your son, "I'm not rushing you, though, if you want to stay here with him for a bit longer, it's okay", he checked with you and Oscar.

Jack wiped his cheeks and dried his hands on his shorts, "okay, can I draw an orange car?", he asked, "of course!", Luke gasped, "those are my favourite, too!", Colin said.

"Are you sure you want to go in now? We can stay for a bit longer if you want to, Jack", Oscar assured your son, "I can do it, daddy", he said as he kissed his cheek before kissing yours, "I love you, see you later!", he waved cutely as they walked to the big white sheet and the different paints and brushes.

"He's all grown up", you cooed, smiling at how brave he was for asking for help, "he is", Oscar agreed, helping you up and walking out of the classroom with your hands intertwined.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#oscar piastri blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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chosetherose · 1 year

Text

Updated as of 6/30

The Eras Tour *Surprise Songs*

Taylor said her goal is to not repeat each show’s surprise songs so I thought it would be fun to track them as the tour goes on! Black strikethrough is included in the main set list. Purple strikethrough are included in the main set list but have been switched up at some show/s. Blue songs Taylor played but might be repeated due to messing up.

Taylor Swift

Tim McGraw (3/17) • Picture to Burn • Teardrops on My Guitar (5/5) • A Place in This World (4/22) • Cold as You (4/23) • The Outside • Tied Together with a Smile • Stay Beautiful• Should’ve Said No (5/19) • Mary’s Song (Oh My My My) • Our Song (3/24) • I’m Only Me When I’m with You (6/30) • Invisible (5/20) • A Perfectly Good Heart

Fearless

Fearless • Fifteen (5/6) • Love Story • Hey Stephen (5/14) • White Horse (3/25) • You Belong With Me • Breathe• Tell Me Why• You’re Not Sorry (4/21) • The Way I Loved You • Forever & Always (5/13) • The Best Day (5/14) • Change • Jump Then Fall (4/2) • Untouchable • Come In With The Rain • Superstar • The Other Side Of The Door (4/28) • You All Over Me (6/3) • Mr. Perfectly Fine (6/16) • We Were Happy • That’s When • Don’t You • Bye Bye Baby • Today was a fairytale (4/22)

Speak Now

Mine (5/7) • Sparks Fly (5/5) • Back To December • Speak Now (4/13, Taylor restarted part of the song but did not confirm it could be played again) • Dear John (6/24) • Mean (4/15) • The Story Of Us (6/17) • Never Grow Up • Enchanted • Better Than Revenge • Innocent• Haunted (6/9) • Last Kiss • Long Live • Ours (3/31) • If This Was A Movie (6/23) • Superman

Red

State Of Grace (3/18) • Red (5/21) • Treacherous (4/13) • I Knew You Were Trouble • All Too Well • 22 • I Almost Do (6/9) • We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together • Stay Stay Stay • The Last Time (6/16) • Holy Ground (5/27) • Sad Beautiful Tragic (3/31) • The Lucky One (4/2) • Everything Has Changed • Starlight • Begin Again (4/23) • The Moment I Knew (6/4) • Come Back… Be Here (5/12) • Girl At Home • Ronan • Better Man (5/19) • Nothing New • Babe • Message In A Bottle • I Bet You Think About Me (4/30) • Forever Winter • Run • The Very First Night • All Too Well – 10 Minute Version

1989

Welcome To New York (5/28) • Blank Space • Style • Out Of The Woods (5/6, Taylor confirmed it might be played again) • All You Had To Do Was Stay • Shake It Off • I Wish You Would (6/2) • Bad Blood • Wildest Dreams • How You Get The Girl (4/30) • This Love (5/13) • I Know Places • Clean (4/1, Taylor confirmed it might be played again, 5/28) • Wonderland (4/21) • You Are In Love • New Romantics

Reputation

…Ready For It? • End Game • I Did Something Bad • Don’t Blame Me • Delicate • Look What You Made Me Do • So It Goes… • Gorgeous (4/29) • Getaway Car (5/26) • King Of My Heart • Dancing With Our Hands Tied • Dress • This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things • Call It What You Want • New Year’s Day

Lover

I Forgot That You Existed • Cruel Summer • Lover • The Man • The Archer • I Think He Knows (5/21) • Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince • Paper Rings (6/23) • Cornelia Street • Death By A Thousand Cuts (4/1, Taylor confirmed it might be played again) • London Boy • Soon You’ll Get Better • False God (5/27) • You Need To Calm Down • Afterglow • Me! • It’s Nice To Have A Friend • Daylight (6/24) • All of the Girls You’ve Loved Before

Folklore

The 1 (replaced IS multiple shows) • Cardigan • The Last Great American Dynasty • Exile with Bon Iver • My Tears Ricochet • Mirrorball (3/17) • Seven (spoken, 6/17) • August • This Is Me Trying (3/18) • Illicit Affairs • Invisible String (replaced by T1 multiple shows) • Mad Woman (4/15) • Epiphany • Betty • Peace • Hoax • The Lakes (6/2)

Evermore

Willow • Champagne Problems • Gold Rush (5/12) • Tis The Damn Season • Tolerate It • No Body, No Crime • Happiness • Dorothea • Coney Island (4/28) • Ivy • Cowboy Like Me (3/25) • Long Story Short • Marjorie • Closure • Evermore (6/30) • Right Where You Left Me •It’s Time To Go

Midnights

On 4/14 Taylor changed the rule: ALL SONGS ON MIDNIGHTS MAY BE REPEATED. I’m adding the dates to the midnights surprise songs but they will remain in black text since they can be repeated.

Lavender Haze • Maroon (5/26) • Anti-Hero • Snow on the Beach (3/24) • You’re on Your Own, Kid (4/14) • Midnight Rain • Question…? (5/20) • Vigilante Shit • Bejeweled • Labyrinth • Karma • Sweet Nothing • Mastermind • The Great War (4/14) • Bigger Than the Whole Sky • Paris • High Infidelity (4/29) • Glitch • Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve (5/7) • Dear Reader • Hits Different (6/4)

Other

I don’t wanna live forever (6/3)

#reach out if I’m missing anything #eras tour #eras tour set list #surprise song #Taylor swift #taylor nation

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as-is-above-so-below · 9 months

Text

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 1: It Starts In A Bar

summary: your friends take you out to a local pub when you would much rather be grading assignments. a/n: hello! big surprise, me writing for john price! I don't know how long this will be, but I definitely have a general idea of where I want this to go. I hope y'all like it!

thank you @lethalchiralium for dragging me into the clubhouse kicking and screaming LMAO << Previous | Next >>

Why did they pick this place again?

Ah, right. “It’s a hometown pub, a staple to the community,” they said. That was clear from the couple dozen men and women, ranging from middle-aged to elderly, scattered about, and a few younger folks peppered into the crowd. It wasn’t run down by any means, just…a dive. You mindlessly picked at the peanuts and pretzels in little bowls, elbows perched on the edge of the sticky table, for hours. You chatted and occasionally laughed at the stories they shared about their homeroom students and the shenanigans the other grades got up to. You’d been teaching year thirteen for a while, students taking their A-levels in history.

It was supposed to be a quiet evening, spent with a stack of papers to grade, surrounded by glowing candles scattered around your apartment accompanied by soft white string lights stretched across the ceiling. Instead, your friends somehow managed to drag you out of your cozy home to a dark dive in town. You loved them dearly (really, you did), but you had a routine. Your ideal Friday night wasn’t in a damp bar.

Your kids could be challenging at times in their late teens. They occasionally cause trouble, known for getting into fights, interrupting class, or bringing drama into the classroom. Nevertheless, you’d never had a set of students that was more than you could handle. They turned their work in on time and were always nosy about your personal life, which – much to their chagrin – was uneventful. Your love life was stale, to put it nicely. And your friends tried everything in their power to set you up on dates, every single one striking out miserably. It didn’t feel natural to meet some guy at a restaurant for a blind date.

One of them talked about themselves the entire time, barely letting you get a word in. The next ordered about three more drinks than you and a meal that cost twice as much as yours but demanded you split the cost of the date. You were all for splitting the bill but on the first date? Not a good impression.

The rest were uninteresting and immemorable.

“Seriously? You haven’t been on a date since – Oh, what was his name again?”

“Zachary,” you pointed out, taking a long sip of your drink. “You should know; you set up the date.”

“I know, I know. I didn’t realize he was such a bore one-on-one.”

“Thanks for that, by the way. Loved talking to myself for two hours.”

You all laughed at the memory, starting to finish drinks and gather belongings. “Let’s get to the next spot to find you a man!”

Bar hopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you knew better than to resist. It would all be over much faster if you just went along. Your companions were much quicker on their exit, considering the nearly-full drink that you felt like you just bought, and they were already moving on to the next dig. You threw the rest of your drink back, flinching as the big gulp of alcohol burned down your throat, and hurried to catch up with them. You took one of their outstretched hands, giggling as they just about pulled you into the circle exiting the pub–

“Excuse me, miss!” a deep voice called out. You’re not sure why, but you turned, feeling like the man was calling out to you. Your assumption turned out to be correct, and a tall, dark-haired man with a beard and a soft smile approached you. “Sorry, you left this.”

He held your cardigan to you. You must have abandoned it in your haste.

“Oh! Thank you so much. That’s kind of you,” you said, taking the garment back and draping it over your forearm. “I’d forget my head if it weren’t attached,” you added, tapping your temple with a soft chuckle.

“Quite alright.” Behind you, an elbow nudged your spine; you barely caught yourself from making a face and snapping at whichever acquaintance decided to egg you on. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but it seems you’re heading out.”

He certainly was handsome. His beard was well-groomed, just like his hair. It looked like he went to a barber fairly recently. He even dressed well, in a cream, ribbed polo tucked loosely into his jeans. Dark chest hair peeked out where the top two buttons were undone. It was an enticing offer…

“Um, yeah, but….” You looked over your shoulder and met expectant glances. Some looked like they were about to bust apart at the seams with glee, which made you roll your eyes. Clearly, you wouldn’t be missed. “I could hang for a little while longer.”

The man's smile grew, and his stance shifted to open a path toward the bar. “Are you sure? Y’don’t have to,” he amended, his hands in his pockets. His energy was warm and soft but still masculine. He held a confidence that not many people carried, at least not the men you’d been on dates with recently. And the Liverpool accent? Maybe things were starting to look up.

“No, no, I honestly need another drink.” You flashed your teeth back to him, folding your arms over your chest with your sweater in hand.

“In that case, after you.”

Before taking his arm, you realized you’d yet to even ask for his name. “Thank you…?”

“John.” John’s right hand hovered before you and he flashed his bright teeth. His hands were clean, nails neatly trimmed. Although, one nail bed was bruised.

Man, he’s pretty for a grown man.

“Y/N,” you replied with an easy grin. He kept a steady hold on your gaze, carefully examining the bright twinkle they held. You didn’t know it, but John had just returned from a long mission. One that had left him yearning for a shower, a haircut, and somebody to come home to. He’d never had anything to look forward to and stay alive for; no affection or comfort after a rough assignment, no one to care for and spoil.

And he wanted that.

“A surname to that, John?” you asked, sliding your hand through the loop he created with his elbow. Holy shit, he was strong. Your hand rested on the soft but well-built muscle of his bicep. You figured he must have a labor-intensive job, or he goes to the gym frequently. John didn’t seem like the type to spend hours at the gym in his spare time, so you went with the first option. You’d keep that in mind when making small talk later.

“John Price.”

“Very regal name.”

John scoffed but laughed nonetheless. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

John couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were unbelievably bubbly, especially for interacting with a stranger who only gave back your forgotten cardigan. He’d been watching you from his spot at the bar, laughing with your friends but zoning out every once in a while. He was no stranger to giving himself a mental break, particularly in a hectic environment like a packed bar on a cool, Friday evening.

“I’ll call you when I need a ride!”

You and John watched the giggly group exit the pub, happily waving as they piled into a cab. You waved back with your free hand, your other palm still pressed against his warm skin. They didn’t embarrass you too badly, thank god. You met John’s eyes, a dark color twinkling with mischief.

“Your friends seem chipper.”

“I’m so sorry. They’re just happy to see me talking to a man.”

“Oh? Is that right?” he chuckled, nodding to your previously held table. John broke away briefly to retrieve his unfinished drink and denim jacket from the bar.

You followed his lead back to the booth, attempting to keep control of the flush you felt beginning to heat your cheeks. “They’ve set me up on many an unfortunate date. Not saying I don’t get along fine on my own, but–”

“It’s rough out there?” he finished, sliding into the cushioned seat across from you. When you nodded in return, John smirked. “Believe me. I get it. My career makes it difficult to find time for much of anything.”

“Yeah, well, I have sixteen kids.”

The man sputtered, choking on what looked to be an old-fashioned. Possibly a bad joke, but it was such a great opportunity; you were feeling frisky, and you couldn’t help the giggles that erupted following his reaction. “I teach history for year thirteen.”

“Oh, thank Christ.” John wiped the cocktail off his lip with the back of his hand, shaking his head at your laughter. “You had me going there. Five minutes into our date, and I’ve made a mess of myself.”

You quirked a brow. “So this is a date?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, I would consider it light conversation. Getting to know each other.”

“That’s a date.”

“Mmm, I’d say it’s more casual than that.”

“I’m not looking for casual, love.”

You paused, examining his calm demeanor. He didn’t seem cocky, but honest, a welcome change to the pattern you’d observed over the last few months. None of your dates had been so bold as to know what they want and make their intentions clear. Especially not so quickly. It was refreshing.

“Me neither.”

“Good.”

You both sat in peace, pausing your conversation for the waitress. You ordered another drink, as promised, and folded your hands on the tabletop, fingers laced. “So, what do you do, John?” you asked, tapping your thumbs together.

“I’m in the military.”

You paused, expectantly waiting for him to continue, only to be met with silence.

“Care to elaborate?”

He tutted once with his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. “I would love to, but I can’t.”

Interesting. Normally, resistance like that would be a red flag. On the other hand, his job could be “classified” or whatever is said in the movies. No alarms went off in your mind; your intuition told you that John was trustworthy, so you let it go. The pretty brunette dropped your new drink off and another for John.

“I can tell you that I’m a Captain.”

“So you have pretend kids too?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he hummed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. A slight tinge of the citrus notes from the expressed orange peel wafted across the table. John’s laugh was distinctive, chesty and rumbly, inviting. “Of course. Mine are bigger, though, I’m sure.”

“Oh? They’re not scrawny little soldiers?”

“No. One’s almost two meters tall.”

“Jesus. How many?”

“Five. Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alex, and Farah.”

“Well, I for one can’t wait to meet them.”

“Likewise.”

You fussed with your hair for about the thousandth time in your bathroom mirror and huffed when it wouldn’t settle right. John was to meet you in about fifteen minutes. Knowing him, that meant he would be buzzing up to your apartment any second. You’d been on a few dates and knew his date habits pretty well. If you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late. You had been out to dinner, grabbed coffee once or twice; you even grabbed an ice cream. So, it was a surprise when John suggested a trip to the museum. It didn’t seem like his thing, but you weren’t about to turn down a trip to the history exhibit.

As you expected, a familiar BZZT BZZT reverberated through your flat, signaling his arrival. The first time he picked you up, you let him into the building without using the intercom. You tried explaining that the speaker broke and your landlord had yet to fix it (shocker), but John wouldn’t hear it. You could have been letting in a random creep pressing buttons until some tenant unlocked the door. He insisted on creating a little system, so you would know it was him downstairs and not a kidnapper. From then on, he always rang the bell twice.

You gave up on your hair, switched the light off, and paged him in. Your unit was on the first floor (which wasn’t ideal), so it only took John a few seconds to reach your door. When you heard a knock at your door, you peered through the peephole (as promised) before unlocking the deadbolt, revealing a very well-dressed captain. John’s hair was a bit shaggy, but it suited him well. Your heart fluttered helplessly at the bright smile that appeared when he laid eyes on you, his gaze obviously taking in the sight before him.

It was a weeknight, and you didn’t have time to change between school and your usual errands. You threw a plaid skirt, thigh-high socks, and loose sweater together; just a sliver of skin showed between the top of your socks and hem of your skirt. You felt underdressed compared to John, but there wasn’t much you could do about it.

“Hi,” he said, leaning to kiss your cheek. “You look lovely.”

“Same to you. You always clean up well.”

“If you saw the state I’m usually in at work – you’d understand why.”

John kept a watchful eye to make sure you turned both locks for your door before guiding you outside to a waiting taxi with a hand on the small of your back. He held the door to your building and the car open for you. The drive was short, but the weather was starting to catch a bit of a chill, and you didn’t want to walk too far.

Ever the gentleman, the captain followed closely behind you up the steps to the gallery. Even if he weren’t perceptive, with years of experience reading people, he could tell you were excited to be there; however, he wasn’t so experienced in the ‘romance’ department. John honestly couldn’t even remember the last time he visited any museum, let alone a dedicated history exhibition. But when he suggested it and assured you that he would have a good time, he was only being partially truthful. Secretly, the man just wanted an excuse to listen to you talk. What better place to bring you than an exhibit where he knew you would talk his ear off for hours?

You slowly worked your way through each exhibit, explaining some pieces you recognized and their significance to the period; at displays you weren’t familiar with, you both quietly hovered closer to the title cards, reading through the description. While that kind of date wasn’t John’s usual cup of tea, he was glad he planned it; it helped him figure out how to slow the fuck down and try to be normal outside of a military setting or a pub.

His breath nearly stuttered every time you laid a gentle hand on his arm and drew his attention to the next section, beaming as you animately but quietly pointed out the tiny details in a Renaissance painting hung on the wall. The man couldn’t help but stare at how your lips curved at every syllable, wide eyes glued on the intricate scene portrayed. John hadn’t spoken much so far aside from the occasional affirmation that he was listening; he was very much in his head, unsure if you were excited to be there with him or just excited to be there. But, standing in front of the big painting, you went quiet. You met his gaze, and his lips pulled into a lopsided grin, which you returned before you both shifted back to the artwork. It was peaceful, absorbing the atmosphere and just existing together. Suddenly, John was jolted out of his reverie by the feeling of something brushing the side of his palm.

You were itching to hold his hand all night but were too nervous to take that leap. What if he rejected you? That wasn’t likely after so many dates, but still. Your nerves got the better of you for the better half of the self-guided tour. Regardless, you had managed to work up the courage, cautiously grazing your pinky against his wrist and hand before wrapping it around his. You didn’t look away from the illustration, but he did, moving to you, then down to your hands.

He simply stared for a moment, surprised but positively giddy at the same time. Surely enough, John took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and leaning just a bit closer to you. He could stand there forever, basking in your warmth and energy, the sound of your voice sinking into his every thought–

“Oh no,” you said, breaking the silence. You looked up at him worried, wrinkles forming between your brows. “I-I’m sorry. I was teaching again.”

He immediately gave you a reassuring squeeze, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Don’t be. I like hearing you talk.” Jesus, did he have a way with words. He liked hearing you talk? With that accent, he could spew nonsense, and it would still draw you in. But hearing John Price give you compliments and praise? Flattery? You were a goner. “Tell me more about the next one?”

As if he could get any more fucking perfect.

“Okay.”

#captain john price x f!reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #john price x teacher!reader #call of duty #captain john price #cardigan as is above so below #as is above so below #cod mw #mw fics #call of duty fanfic #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #teacher!reader #john price x afab!reader

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elsweetheart · 1 year

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Can I request something? You see, my friends tell me that I tend to flirt without even noticing. And I've noticed I indeed do that. I look people in the eyes and then look at their lips, I lick my own lips while doing that. I also tend to say softs "hmmm" "uhuum" to show them I'm paying attention. But I don't do that with that intention, because when I WANT to flirt, I'm a mess. Can you do Ellie or Abby (you choose) having a crush/dating someone who does that?

omg !!! me !!!!!!! i love this yes yes yea

im gonna do this w ellie because there’s not much to say about abby other than she will simply just bend you over and -

good view

🎀 short drabble in a hc format ?? idk wht this is. pre-relationship ellie x reader :)

• you were kinda out of it. didn’t get much sleep, and the weather was just warm enough to wear a tank top but a breeze still passed through the abandoned building you were all currently held up in, so you were fiddling with the thin cardigan you wore, pulling them over your hands. it put you in a relaxed, sleepy, slow mood.

• you and ellie weren’t together yet, so of course at any given opportunity when she sees you sitting alone she’d make conversation. she slid a chair over to where you were sat alone at a small table, straddling it backwards resting her arms on the back of the chair.

• “did you call dibs on a room? there’s not much choice, i mean they’re all pretty shitty.” she smirked light heartedly as you turned to face her.

• “yeah, picked the one with the good view.” you smiled hazily having being broken from your thoughts and your sleepy daydreams. you were blinking slowly, ellie always thought your eyelashes looked extra pretty when you did that.

• “nice, my window faces a brick wall.” she comment with an eye roll and you giggled which made her features noticeably perk up when she saw the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip mid giggle to stifle it. she tried not to stare, launching into a story about the time her and Joel passed through a fancy abandoned building and she called dibs on the fancy penthouse bedroom and made Joel sleep in the maid quarters.

• you were listening intently, at first, but you were tired and her features were just so distracting. not even because of your huge crush on her, she just was… interesting. your eyes dragged down to her bottom lip where she had acquired a fresh cut from some kind of scuffle she’d wound up in and watched the way it moved with her mouth as she spoke. “mhm.” you breathed lightly to let her know you were still sort of listening.

• she felt her heart in her throat as she watched your fluttery eyes stare at her lips and completely stumbled over what she was going to say. “it was funny because he was— um… it was funny because fucking—uh…” she lost track of what she was trying to say and this caused you to casually glance back up at her eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly in confusion making them look extra big and doe like which did not her help case.

• “wh’s wrong?” you spoke so softly she could barely hear it over the blood thumping in her ears when she realised she was blushing. what made it worse, is she watched you in real time notice her blushing too, your pretty eyes gliding across her face. “c’mon dude.” she laughed, sitting back away from where she was leaning on the chair to wipe her hands down her face.

• “i’m so confused.” you giggled back and she chuckled, fiddling with the chipped wooden table corner for a moment before looking back up at you with a little more determination.

• “can i finish my story please? without you eyeballing me like that?” her tone was jokey, slightly putting on a voice but you could tell she meant it. you sat back a little, tilting your head to the side like a confused puppy. “and like that.” she laughed before flickering her own eyes to your mouth. “s’distracting.” was all she needed to say and you sort of caught on and raised your eyebrows a little.

• “oh…” you willed her to speak more with her stare, so she did. “you’re pretty. drives me crazy, just a little bit.” she scrunched her nose and you smiled, letting it drop slightly as you held her stare. she cleared her throat, feeling overwhelmed. “anyway, as i was saying before you rudely interrupted with your face.” she continued which made you laugh. perhaps you needed to be more mindful about how you looked at people, however you did enjoy teasing ellie.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams prompt #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams fluff

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justlemmeadoreyou · 8 months

Note

love, love, love your work.

could you maybe write a piece where it's harry that's a bit insecure because the reader wants to keep their relationship very private and not tell people about it?

and i love love love you!! thank you for reading my work and sending this request! ❤️

Insecure

pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: kissing, fluff, a bit of dirty talk

my masterlist! | ask box

"Just 10 more minutes, please, H?" you pouted, snaking your arms tightly around his chest, to try and keep him in bed. Unfortunately, he had an interview to go to.

"Y/n, baby, you know I have to leave soon. And I haven't even taken a bath."

"So leave without taking a bath. You smell so good anyways" you slid up and kissed his pecs, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"That's it. I'm getting out." he gently picked up your arms and kept it on the bedding beneath, and quickly jumped off the bed.

"Nooo" you whined, and crossed your arms over your chest.

"Okay. If I hadn't gotten out, you would've found another way to make me stay." He bent over and picked up his clothes, strewn across the floor from the night before.

"Nice ass" you remarked, making one last attempt at making him stay.

"Not gonna work" he replied, and finally picking up his clothes. He made his way to the bathroom, and closed the door.

You sighed, and slumped back on the bed, pulling the blanket to cover your body, you closed your eyes, waiting for him to come back.

He came back about half an hour later, and you'd already fallen back to sleep. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he slowly made his way over to your sleeping form, and climbed on the bed. He leaned over, and shook his wet hair over your face.

The tiny water droplets showered on your face, and you immediately pushed him away, and he fell on the bed. He started to laugh hysterically, holding his stomach.

"Not funny" you said, wiping off the water. Giving him an angry look, you turned to the other side.

"Hey, I was just playing."

"Sure you were"

"So listen, how about we go to dinner after I come back? You be ready and I'll pick you up?"

"Oh…"

"Think about it, text me before 4. We'll go to that fancy italian place y’like.”

“But-there'll be paparazzi, right?”

“Yeah. Obviously” he chuckled “So?”

“I don’t know, Harry, it’s just–I don’t want people to know yet, like, officially.”

He frowned, his heart sinking a bit.”But there's already pictures of us outside the gym from last week-and that actually means something, right? And, we both wear promise rings. One close up and they’ll figure it out” he said, pulling up his pants he had laid out the night before.

“Yeah, but that’s kinda–different? I don't know. Going to gym together dosen’t really do what going to dinner together does. Please, Harry?”

“Mmm, okay.” he buttoned up his shirt, and pulled on a loose cardigan, and went into the closet to choose footwear.

“So, that would mean I have to say I’m single when they ask me that today?”

You thought, and felt a bit sad. You wanted to go to the tallest building in the world and yell, “I’m dating Harry Styles, bitches!”. But, you couldn’t. At least, not yet.

“Yes?” you murmured, hoping Harry would hear. You also hoped he wouldn’t be sad, or feel bad.

“Yeah, alright.” He walked out wearing white vans, that complemented his blue jeans.

“How do I look?”

“Great” you replied.

“Quick, give me a hug and a kiss before I leave” he walked to the corner of the bed, while you peeled yourself off, and walked on your knees to the edge, the blanket still draped over your body.

He leaned down and kissed you, and you snaked his arms around his neck. He pulled away quickly, and put your back down. He smiled, turning back and waving at you as he left.

As soon as he got out of the room, his sile turned into a frown. He sighed, as the guilt and sadness took over him. Why did you not want anyone to know? Like, both of your friends knew, and people would find out eventually, but still.

Why?

He respected your decision, and would never go against it. He wouldn’t tell people till you were ready. But, what if you won’t be ready? Ever?

Taking his shades and keys, he left the house.

. . .

The interview went great, as he had expected. Better, actually. Whenever he was asked a question about a significant other, he brushed it off charmingly, and thankfully, they didn’t ask any more nosy or follow up questions. He loved interviewers like that.

On his drive back to his shared home with his “girlfriend”, his mind was clouded with thoughts. Why did you not want anyone to know? Were you ashamed? Did you not want your family to know, so they wouldn’t judge you? Maybe your parents didn’t approve you dating a famous person? Maybe you didn’t want to be seen with him like that? Was he that bad?

These things, and some much worse clouded his mind, against his better judgement. Harry wasn’t perfect per-se, but he tried. He knew he could be a bit too much at times, but he worked on that.

Turning over to the last turn towards your house, he took deep breaths, and wiped a few tears off his cheek with the back of his cardigan. He stayed in the car for a few minutes, to let the rednes in his eyes and sadness on his face fade away.

Walking up the path to the main door, he didn’t want to go inside. If you didn’t want to be seen with him, why were you even with him in the first place?

He rung the doorbell, and felt the patter of feet of you making your way to the dor. The door clicked open, and then there you were, with a the soft, glowy face and a lovely smile, holding a spatula. he took a step in, and leaned in to kiss you. You held his neck with the other hand and kissed him back. He snuck an arm around your waist, as the other one closed the door shut behind him.

The kiss wan’t just a quick peck, and you wanted more. Your hand travelled up from his neck to his hair, gently tugging at it. Harry released a filthy moan into your hot mouth, and that was it for both of you. You dropped the spatula on the floor and held onto his shoulders, as he gripped your hips and lifted your up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, he made his way to your bedroom.

“You smell so fucking good” you said, peppering kisses over his cheek. Travelling down to his neck, where you bit his earlobe and kissed his neck. Harry was getting impatient, and he quickly jogged the last few steps, finally reaching your bedroom.

He went straight to your shared bed, throwing you into the centre. You fell with a soft thud, your hair bouncing and framing your little face perfectly. He climbed on the bed too, hovering over your body. Your lips intertwined again, but this time, it was hot tongues and moans into each other's mouths.

Harry wrapped his hand around your throat, and pushed you down. His tongue made its way into your mouth, tasting you. You moaned, as his tongue glided with yours. You had been impatient since the morning, and he was finally giving you what you wanted,

His hand travelled down, pulling the loose string of your sweats. You lifted your hips up, and he slid them off your legs, throwing them away. He was still so much fully dressed, and you wanted to get him naked. Touch his chest and pepper kisses all over it.

You pushed him off to the side, and quickly climbed on him, perching your hips on his waist. You could see his jeans thickening, and you pulled off the cardigan, throwing it on the bed.

Harry wanted to do this. To have sex with you. Eat you out. But, his mind wasn’t letting him. He still kept thinking everything he was while driving, and if he didn’t talk to you about it soon, he would go mad.

He grabbed your wrists when you tried to unbutton his shirt. He sat up, holding your waist so you wouldn’t topple over. Your eyes widened at the sudden halt, and you gave him a confused look.

“H-what–?”

“Can we talk?”

“Right now?” you saw the look on his face. He looked desperate, and…sad. “Okay. What happened? Tell me.” you held his hand in yours, gently kissing his knuckles.

“It’s just–I keep thinking about why you-you don’t want to tell everyone we are dating. It’s driving me mad. Is it me? Am I not worth telling everybody? Is there something wrong with me?”

Your heart broke into a million pieces when he said that. He looked so sad and broken, because of you.

“What? No! Jesus! Harry, why would you even think tha?”

“I’m sorry. This-nobody has ever asked me to keep our relationship a secret and I–I can’t just stomach it. I need to know why?”

“Hey, don’t apologise. Alright? It’s not your fault. “

“Then why?”

“Ok. Here it goes. The reason why I don’t want to tell everyone yet is because-It’s probably stupid.” you slumped, now feeling embarrassed at your reason for all this.

“No, it’s not. Tell me.”

“It’s me. I just think that I can’t compare to anyone–literally anyone you’ve dated before, and it makes me really sad. And when everyone–your fans, your family–they find out, they will think low of me, and that you are probably doing me a favour by dating me. And I know it’s hella stupid, but I am not ready for all the judgement and comments and paps and–”

“Hey! It’s okay. Don’t panic. And I get you, okay. Dating someone like me can be a bit…overwhelming? at times. I am so used to everything that I just don’t realise that you could feel burdened by everthing. And I know how my fans can get sometimes. I love them, more than anything in the world. It’s just–they get defensive and often judge-y of the person I date.”

“I know! And I’m sorry if I made you feel bad about yourself.”

“No, it’s okay. I just wished you could’ve talked to me about it sooner. And hey, don’t ever feel like you’re not enough. There’s a reason why I’m not dating anyone else but you. I love you and I want to be with you. And don’t worry about my family. They are great people. They don’t judge the people I date. They are really, really good people.” he lifted your hands with his, kissing your hand and knuckles, like you had kissed his.

Your eyes were wide, and your mouth fell open. It was the first time he had said I love you.

“What–happened?” he asked, a bit concerned.

“You–you love me?” you replied, eyes welling up with tears.

Now, his face mirrored yours.

“I–I don’t-I didn’t–You don’t have to say it back.”

“Of course I do. I love you too, H.” a tear rolled down your eyes, and you quickly got up and kissed him.

He kissed you back, wiping the tear off your cheek.

“I love you so much. So, so much.” you told him, kissing both his cheeks.

“I love you too, baby. And we don’t have to tell people if you don’t want to. We will, whenever you are ready.”

“Thank you. You are the best. I don’t deserve you” you turned, sitting down on his lap.

“Sure you do. Now, what are we eating tonight? I’m hungry.”

“I made pasta. The spatula—I threw it on the door” you laughed, and he started to laugh with you.

“God.” he shook his head, and you looked up at him.

“C’mon, get up. I need to freshen up.”

“But this–” you looked down between your thighs, where your panties had soaked through from your activities earlier.

“What? Oh! My baby got wet, didn’t she?” you nodded, looking at him with doe eyes, hoping he’ll do something.

“Well, you’ll have to wait till after dinner. Then, I’ll carry you back here like I did before. Lay you down sweetly on the bed. Then spread those pretty thighs of yours, and eat your pretty pussy out. Till you’re begging me to stop. The, I’ll fuck you, and make you look into my eyes, while I tell you how perfect you are. And I that I love you, every time you come around my cock.”

You pressed your thighs together, while he described everything he was going to do to you.

“You’re not helping”

“Wasn’t planning on, love”

. . .

might do a part 2!! 😚

if you like it, please like and reblog!! any feedback is much, much appreciated!!

taglist:

@freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrlrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry

let me know if you wanna be added or removed!!!

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highwayorgantrade · 8 months

Text

Safe House

Pairing: Female Reader! X Soap

Request: Nooo

Summary: Oh no! A bunch of soldiers posted up in your farmhouse bed and breakfast?? Whatever shall you do!! Should you fuck them??

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Overstimulation, begging, volume (keep quiet), unprotected sex, cervix kissing

Author's note: Okay listen y'all I did not plan on doing this whatsoever. I was in the middle of writing a Graves thing when I got this idea and I knew I just had to get that damn little brain worm out before it ruined my life further. This is gonna be a series!!!!!

The mission had gone wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong. 141 thought they were smart by teaming up with Los Vaqueros again to take down a trafficking ring - “Positive international relations,” Price had called it. “We even got imported muscle.” He grinned, referring to the 6’10” man they had called in, after hearing of his ability to do his job and keep his mouth shut.

However, the ring had decided on the same tactic, bringing in a nearby cartel to defend their location. Quickly, way too quickly, the group was overwhelmed, frantically phoning in to Laswell for extraction.

“Don’t worry,” She sighed, after directing the seven men to a relatively safe area, the black-tinted SUV already flying gravel. “I have a friend.”

You had just so happened to be the friend. Well, the relative was more accurate, being her sister-in-law. You knew what she did for work, but you never thought she would call on you for help with it.

“Please, (Y/N), it’ll only be for a few days, I swear. A week, tops.” She called you early one November morning. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” And you knew she wouldn’t. The fact was simple: You had lived relatively nearby, and the bed and breakfast you operated and lived in certainly had the facilities to house eight people, and it so happened to be the off-season.

You were eager to accept, happy to help your sister, and it would be nice to have some muscle with the chores that needed done around the property. When the SUV pulled up, you quickly regretted your decision. You had expected a house full of military boys, tearing around like a pack of dogs, but out stepped six of the most attractive men you have ever seen, all completely different, but equally as handsome and rugged. Two were masked, but Christ, were they big anyway. As they loaded packs out of the van, you stepped into the grass, the cold air causing you to draw your cardigan tighter around yourself. When you approached, you kept a safe distance - partly because you didn’t know them, but also because you were afraid that if you got too close, you’d get lost in the intricacies of their faces.

“Hey!” You spoke finally, the rustling of the dying leaves nearly drowning you out. “I’m (Y/N), I hope the trip out wasn’t too awful!” You internally cringed at yourself for giving them the usual spiel you reserved for guests, but continued anyway. “Come on in, all the rooms are pretty much the same, but you can pick, so… that’s something.”

“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” One of them finally spoke, casting a friendly grin your way, and you turned quickly to hide the burning on your cheeks.

You were proud of the way your property looked, hidden well off the road in a small forested area, the whole thing had kind of an eclectic feel to it, but you still felt kind of strange leading them into the common area.

“Okay!” You clasped your hands together, and tried to remember that you were only a housing opportunity - they had more important things to focus on. “Well, uh, I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can, but you might see me flitting about here and there. What’s mine is yours.” Some nodded their thanks, others were making quick work of checking their bags for God knows what, and one, the one in a skull mask, merely stared down at you, his large arms crossed on his chest.

Okay… You took that as your cue to leave, and you quickly stepped out the back door, hoping to make progress on your chores before the sun set.

The frigid air felt nearly unbearable compared to how hot you were burning in their presence - you didn’t even realize that you were slightly sweating. With a sigh, you reminded yourself of your responsibilities. Repaint the gazebo, refill and hang the bird feeders, and fix the greenery so everything is in full bloom by summer. Leaves crunched under your step as the half-painted gazebo came into view. You could hear voices coming from your house, a few with different accents, mostly British, but you could pick out a Scottish, a vaguely German, and a couple Spanish lilts. A booming laugh echoed, and you relaxed your tense shoulders at the sound.

“Don’t make me regret this, Kate.” You mumbled as you settled into the grass and popped open a paint can.

She was pretty. It was the first thing Soap had noticed. It looked like she belonged here, in the woods, with the wind blowing her hair and birds singing in her presence. No doubt she kept them well-fed. He had barely listened when she spoke - he was much too focused on how her sweater wrapped tightly around her body, or how her eyes seemed to physically sparkle with curiosity. She had said something, Soap had no idea, but he responded anyway. Something about the drive? The rooms?

“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” He answered, stabbing that it was an appropriate response. The way she averted her eyes and a hint of a smile played at the edges of her lips told him that he was successful. When she turned around to lead them into the safehouse, Price gave him a nudge and shook his head ‘no.’ No fucking Kate’s pretty little sister? Might as well ask him to walk on fucking water, next.

She had promised to make herself scarce, and Soap was silently thankful. He didn’t want this woman caught up in what they were doing, and he didn’t want her to know something that could get her in trouble - Laswell would never forgive them. When she left, Alejandro was the first to speak.

“Nobody talk to me about this mission tonight.” He grumbled, and Soap recognized that as a request long ago, based on the way his jaw was clenched nearly the entire drive to the location, muttering what Soap assumed to be expletives every so often. He trudged up the stairs with his bag, Rudy trailing not far behind.

“Right, then.” Ghost spoke, rolling his shoulders and pulling out a map of the enemy facility and laying it on the wood table, and Soap nearly laughed at how out of place it looked. “If they’ve gotten support from that gang, it eliminates them from support from anyone else, and makes them a target to others, not just us.”

“We need to get to them first.” Konig’s hand landed on the map, gesturing vaguely at an entrance. “This was lightly guarded.” Soap stared at the location, before his eyes flitted out the window to see you approaching a gazebo outside, and he itched to get this out of the way.

“Aye, they might reinforce that entrance since they know it’s weak now. Leaves somewhere else open to vulnerability.” Soap strategized, his eyes lingering on how your hands ran through your hair, and JESUS, how did it still look perfect after that? A light thump on the back of his head pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked back to see Gaz with a raised eyebrow, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

“No-go, mate. Red zone. Laswell would have your head on a stick.”

“Might be worth it.” Ghost chimed in, following his gaze to the woman.

Price pointed a warning finger to Ghost, his face stony.

“Ghost, stop instigating. Gaz, leave Soap alone. Konig…” He took a breath, considering the man had nothing to do with their antics. “Good job. Soap, I wish I had control over who a soldier decides to sleep with, but I don’t.”

“That girl in Ibiza left a bad taste in your mouth, Cap?” Soap retorted, recalling one of his more infamous hook-ups, and Price laughed loudly.

“Lesson for the inexperienced,” Ghost turned to Konig. “Remember your date’s name or she will throw a knife at you.” Konig shook his head at this, and slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to call it a day.

“Sounds like my kind of woman.”

Soap had already tuned the ribbing out, and when Ghost packed up the plans, he was already tracing your path, walking out the back door to meet you.

A rustling of leaves caused your head to perk up, and you turned to see the one who had spoken to you earlier, a small smile on his face.

“Need any help?” He tilted his head at the gazebo. “More hands make less work ‘n all.” You looked back at your work, having made minimal progress since you began.

“Oh! Yeah, sure. If you want.” You responded, pulling the paint tray out in front of you so he could take the spare paintbrush. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again.

“I’m Johnny. Most of the guys call me Soap, though.”

Soap? The nickname seemed to come out of nowhere, and you crinkled your nose at this.

“Why do they call you that? You shower more than everyone else or something?” He laughed at this, reaching up to cover the underside of a railing in white paint, and you fought to keep your eyes from lingering on his arms.

“Good at cleaning house, love.” Soap corrected you, your lips pursing at the nickname. “How long have you had this place?”

You shrugged, simply happy that he was making conversation with you.

“Coupl’a years. Since I was twenty. Bought it as a dump and flipped it.” He makes a noise of approval and takes a deep breath.

“Your, uh, boyfriend live here with you, does he?” At this, you can’t help but allow a laugh to tear through you, both in recognition of what Soap was doing, and out of pure shock that he was doing it.

“Not sure where my boyfriend lives, I haven’t met him yet. Let me know if you find him, though, yeah?” Soap shook his head.

“I don’t think I will, but thank you for the offer.”

The back and forth with Soap left your head reeling, and you considered your options as you painted in silence. Kate would kill you if she found out, but she doesn’t need to find out. It has been terribly long since you’ve even been on a date, or even had sex for that matter, and Soap certainly isn’t the worst looking man in the world. He clearly had a great body, and you delved down the rabbit hole of how his arms would look pinning your arms above your head, his battle-worn dog tag trailing cold electricity down your chest.

A flash of yellow light pulled you out of your musings, and a firefly landed on your knee. You took a deep breath and turned to Soap, his attention garnered by your sudden movement of waving the small bug away.

“Do you wanna have a drink tonight? With me?” Your face was comically serious, and Soap let out a soft chuckle as he replaced the lid on the paint, taking the brush from your hand.

“Aye.” He stood, sighing a bit at the noise his knees made, and handed you the paint tray.

“I’ll, uh, go put this up and meet you inside.” You offered him a small smile, and his head tilted at you, trying to hide his own.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Soap had to stop himself from running back into the house. Giddiness coursed through him, and he burst through the door to see Gaz, Ghost, and Konig sat in various places around the living room, the TV tuned in to the local news.

“Get the fuck out.” He stated simply, his eyes wide and a dumb grin on his face.

“Pardon?” Ghost barely spared him a glance, and Konig automatically stood, silently confused as to where he was supposed to go. Gaz merely stared up at him.

“I said,” Soap wrapped his hand around Ghost’s bicep and pulled, forcing the man to stand, and Gaz followed. “Get the fuck out.”

“You sendin’ us to bed, then, eh?”

Soap picked up Ghost’s bag for him, and shoved it into his chest, nearly pushing the men up the stairs.

“I am.” He turned to Gaz, his mouth already open to protest, and pointed a finger in his face. “If you fuck this up for me, I will end you.”

The second the three men shut the door to their respective rooms, you stepped back into the house, locking the backdoor behind you.

I raised an eyebrow at the television, and grinned at Soap.

“Did you turn on the news?” I ask, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of wine from cabinets, pouring us both a fairly full glass.

“Yeah, it’s a new form of foreplay.” He laughed, taking a sip. “Learnin’ that we world is shite.”

“Oh, so foreplay is important to you?” And that question was your first step. He glanced at you from across the kitchen island, and you could just see the gears in his mind turning, figuring out the best way to get himself into your bed. Honestly, he could have asked to bend you dead over the kitchen counter, his large hand pulling your hair as leverage as he thrusted into you from behind.

But your imagination always runs wild.

“Mm. ‘S very important.” You cocked your head at his answer, and he shrugged. “I prefer to have a girl simply beggin’ before I even think of finishing.” He took a step around the island, not quite in front of you, but leaning on the side. You sipped your wine again, trying to cover your reaction to his answer, but there was no wine glass big enough to cover how you pressed your legs together, one hand gripping the counter with slightly more force than necessary.

“How do you do that?” It was an effort to keep your tone even , trying not to show how badly he was affecting you.

“Eh.” He set his wine glass down, finger lightly circling the base of the stem. “Usually have ‘em coming a few times before I get my own.”

Holy fuck. You needed Soap, and you needed him bad.

“Ah, so only good reviews then?” Damnit, why is your voice suddenly higher? You cleared your throat to try to get it to return to normal, and the fucking bastard smirked at you.

“So far. Tell me, love.” That damn nickname again. “When was the last time you were fucked?” You opened your mouth to answer, but it didn’t matter as Soap began talking again. “Ah, lemme revise that. When was the last time you were properly fucked? The last time someone had you cryin’, had you just stupid on their cock?”

You were buzzing, shaking slightly at Soap’s vulgar words. His accent got lower, rougher as he spoke, and you could feel your arousal tying a knot in your throat.He simply stared at you, waiting for your answer with a dumb smile on his face, like he already knew.

“Oh, no, don’t tell me…” He began, in mock sympathy. “Never?” You shook your head at him, not wanting to tell him the truth.

In all reality, you’ve never orgasmed with someone else. It was all only you, and you learned quickly not to say this, as all men would try to be the first. Then you’d end the night by lying, and they would go with their egos inflated.

You both stood, the tension in the kitchen more than you could bear, and just as you were about to dismiss yourself for the night, Soap wrapped a hand around your forearm - Not tightly enough to worry you, but just enough so you looked up at him, your faces inches from each other.

“Love, I don’t like to, uh, think I’m all that, y’know?” He cleared his throat. “But I’d like to try. Show some thanks to our host.”

In one last attempt at quieting down your own perverse thoughts, you set your wine glass down, and looked at the floor.

“Ah, you don’t need to thank me Soap.”

“I absolutely do,” He responded immediately. “I really do need to. Nothin’ better than a pretty face while I work.”

You bite the inside of your lip, considering all the ways this could go bad. Every single one was overrun with the way Soap was searching your eyes, silently pleading for you. With a purse of your lips, you poured the rest of your wine down the sink, and smiled.

“Absolutely.”

You barely got the words out before Soap wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way up the stairs, searching for any room that didn’t look like it was already occupied.

“Mine’s on the other end.” You breathed in an effort not to laugh at his eagerness, and he turned on his heels toward a door that was differently painted than the rest. He placed a hand over your head, protecting you from a bump as he ducked through the doorframe, and less-than-gently set you on your bed, locking the door behind him.

When he turned, you didn’t see the sweet man offering to help you with painting, you saw a soldier. A soldier tuned into your every breath, every movement, and every thought. He kneeled in front of the bed, between your legs, and began planting lighter than air kisses on your ankle, untying your shoes and setting them to the side haphazardly.

“Red means stop.” He whispered against your skin, traveling upward to your knee. “Yellow is slow down, green is good. Repeat it.”

“Red is-“ You were cut off by your own gasp as he delivered a light bite to the inside of your thigh before kissing it again, and you could feel him smile against you. “Red is stop. Yellow is slow. Green is good.”

“And where are we now?” He breathed against the spot right where your thigh met your most sensitive area, and you felt your stomach jump.

“Green. So, so green.” A whimper escaped you, and Soap tsked, like he was about to scold you.

“Stay quiet, lass.” Teased Soap, as he slid your shorts down, along with your underwear, and he whistled lowly. “A Chriosd ann an ifrinn, seall ort, a nighean bhòidheach.” And with that, he licked one long, thick strip up your cunt, dipping down to tease your hole with his tongue. Soap was eating you out like a man starved, and you were obsessed.

Light, breathy moans left you, ever so aware of how quiet everything else was.

“Tell me what feels good, love.” He punctuated his command with a nip to your thigh, pulling your mind out of the pleasure-induced haze. His tongue traveled through your folds, eyes trained on you to see your reaction to his ministrations. Soap’s lips wrap around your clit, fingers toying with your soaking entrance, and it felt like all rational thought had left you. You didn’t care about who exactly was between your legs, nor if his team could hear your desperate mewls.

The pressure inside you was building, and your movement was strange - trying to wriggle away from the incessant barrage against your clit, and trying to grind impossibly closer to Soap’s lips, and by his huff, it was clear he had enough of that. One large arm wrapped around a thigh, his other pressing down on your abdomen, and the only noise Soap could muster was a few low groans as he continued devouring you.

The knot inside you was getting tighter and tighter, and it felt like it was going to snap any second. A split moment of panic ran through you as your back arched off the bed, Begs and cries tumbling out of your lips before you could think of them.

“Soap, please, please.” You cried, hands aching from gripping the sheets. “Please don’t stop, please…” Staying true to your direction, Soap was unrelenting against you, the combination of his sucking, biting, and licking at your clit had dizzy spots appearing in your vision. With one hard push on your abdomen, and a particularly slow drag of his tongue at your entrance, you felt that snap, and you finally understood why it was called the Little Death.

Your mind had gone completely blank, mouth open in a silent scream, and your thighs clamped around either side of Soap’s head, where he still had yet to stop drinking you. It felt like your heart had even stopped beating, until the pounding was heard in your ears. As Soap continued, you felt your body lurch upwards, fingers tangling in Soap’s hair until he finally looked up at you, his hand coming back to slide a finger into you.The sudden intrusion forced a gasp from you, and he gently kissed your thigh, where you noticed the ache that predates a bruise.

“How we doin’, love? We okay?” His voice was impossibly sweet, a complete 180 to how he just made you feel. You nodded, despite feeling like every single sense in your body had been blown out. His finger continued sliding in and out of you, your walls pulsing around him.

“Green.” You confirmed breathily, and he smiled a wolfish grin before adding a second digit into you, his pace quickening. A quick flash of aggravation and desperation coursed through you, and you knew how to get exactly what you wanted.

You looked down at him, eyebrows upturned in a pleading look, and your doe-eyes were working overtime.

“Please, Soap, just fuck me.” You said, voice higher and more gentle than you thought it would come out, and he groaned, rolling his head against your leg. His fingers took on a ‘come here’ motion, and your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the feeling.

“Ah, I know what you want. You want these…” Soap planted a kiss on your thighs, interrupting his own speech. “God, these pretty thighs pinned behind your head, taking me so well, takin’ me so good.” He looked absolutely pussydrunk, his eyes darting between your eyes and his fingers, tsking and offering a slight noise of false sympathy when a tear rolled down your cheek. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, and you could feel that fire building inside of you again. “Christ, love, you wanna come again, huh?” You nodded furiously at his question, one hand coming up to absentmindedly play with your tits. A bright look crossed Soap’s face, and while his hands continued, his mouth met your hands.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, and before you could think, he bit down - the orgasm that crashed through you was stronger than the last, and the muscles in your thighs screamed from being clenched so tightly. You felt his fingers work their way out of your pussy, hissing at the feeling of your walls clenching around nothing.

“You want me to fuck you now, pretty thing?” His face was almost smug as he climbed up on the bed, one hand going to your lower back to effortlessly raise you, and he peppered light kisses on your sweat-covered face. Of course you want him, how could you not? Your body was buzzing with the aftershocks of two orgasms, and here he was, lining himself up with you.

“God, yes, please.” You breathed, hands coming to rest on his back. Soap brought his lips down next to your ear, sending another shock straight to your core.

“Beg better.” He punctuated his command by rubbing his cock through your folds, and you twitched when the head ground against your already sensitive clit. Beg better? Fuck you, Soap.

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you and, hopefully, how serious you looked.

“Fuck me, Soap. Now.”

The simple instruction was all it took for him to push inside you, and it was like it activated something in him - Soap simply could not shut up.

“Ach, mo Dhia, tha thu a 'faireachdainn cho foirfe timcheall orm. So perfect.” He planted a kiss to your temple. “So perfect, my pretty girl.”

You brought your lips up to his neck, kissing the curve where it meets his shoulder, and his babbling only continued as his cock dragged against nearly every nerve, your broken moans echoing through your room. God, his slow pace was nearly agonizing, you wanted more, you needed more. It was like Soap read your mind as he paused, hooking your knees above his shoulders, effectively pinning you into the mattress. He flashed you a wicked grin before he began his jackhammer pace, and this new position had him reaching impossibly deep inside you.

A vague, low ache began in your abdomen every time he bottomed out, his head kissing your cervix every single time. The depth combined with his pace, his groaning and endless praise in your ear - it felt like it was all culminating in a perfect storm, one that was threatening to break down every fibre of your being.

“Fuck, Soap, I’m going to-” You interrupted yourself with a low, hoarse groan, your admission only spurring him on as he replaced his hold on your knees with his hands.

“Look at me, love, I wanna see it, I wanna see you.” His stuttering hips told you he was in the same spot as you, and you both were not going to last much longer. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He growled, and that was all it took for you.

Your legs shook uncontrollably as you released around him, and your ending brought his own on. Curses left him lips as he buried himself inside you, collapsing next to you.

“Ach, come ‘ere.” He breathed, reaching his arm out to hook around your waist and pulling you to him, one leg wrapping around his waist. One hand rested on your jaw, planting kisses on your forehead, cheek, anywhere he could get access to. Your body felt numb, and you knew he stayed true to his word - you were fucked absolutely stupid. You wanted to talk, you wanted to ask where this left you? Would you ignore that this happened? Would it recur? Would he tell his team about it? You wanted to ask, and yet you didn’t - The song of crickets and his heartbeat was a lullaby, and one that you couldn’t fight.

The snare of sleep overtook you as your heart rate evened out, and only one thought was on your mind before you gave up the fight for consciousness:

You really fucking hope you don’t regret this.

#mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfic #cod x reader

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coldfanbou · 10 months

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Busty Bunny Bred on a Beach

Did I title this fic the way I did because I like alliterations? Yes. Anyway, the bunny breeder (Series?) returns with Eunbi. Honestly, her releasing bikini pictures while I was working on this was perfect timing for me. We'll have Eunbi being bred while Eunha and Nayeon sit and watch it happen.

Length 2.4K

Eunbi x Mreader

Previous Part

Next Part

Nayeon and Eunha sat on their beach towels next to each other. You're a bit annoyed that they wouldn't let you sit next to them, but in their own words, "You'll have a good time on your own." It had been a couple of weeks since you had gotten them pregnant, and quickly, sex had become a thing of the past. You looked around the beach; it was lonely, but that was a given, considering it was private. The waves crash onto the sandy shore; you hear footsteps slowly grow louder behind you.

You speak without turning around, "Why can't I sit next to you exactly? It's not really fun on my own." You feel a pair of breasts press against your back, and unfamiliar arms wrap themselves around you.

"Patience, you have to be patient. I don't live close by, Mr. Bunny Breeder." The woman rubs your back with her breasts; they're much bigger than Eunha's and Nayeon's. "Your girlfriend and friend told me you really like fucking girls who look like rabbits, is that true?"

"Well, I-it seems to be like that." You feel the woman snake her hand down your shorts; she digs around until she finds your cock. She gives it a few strokes before stopping.

"Why don't you tell me about how that went? How it felt to breed Eunha and Nayeon." As you start recounting the story, the woman strokes your cock; she uses her thumb to rub the head, making you shiver.

"They wore these reverse bunny suits where their tits and pussy were out."

"Oh yeah, then what?" The woman asks. She kisses your neck while moving her hand faster. You moan; her soft hand jerking you off quickly felt good.

"They gave me a double blowjob. Eunha took my cock first while Nayeon played with my balls." You groan. Your cock begins to twitch as you recount the events. Precum leaks from the head, covering the woman's hand. She takes her hand out of your shorts and licks it clean.

"Ooh, nice and tasty. I can see why they started with that. It makes me want to try it too." She sneaks her hand back down your shorts and continues her handjob. "Then what? You fucked them?"

"N-no, I ate Nayeon out first, made her cum, then I fucked her."

The woman giggles, "Look at you being a good lover. How did it feel cumming inside another woman while your girlfriend watched."

"It felt great,"

"I bet it did; you got her pregnant." Your cock twitches again, and this time the woman speeds up, her hand sliding up and down your shaft. As you cum she places her hand on your tip, letting you cum onto her hand. "So much cum, and just from a handjob too." She gently bites your ear, "I bet you plan on breeding me too, don't you? Fucking me and filling my fertile womb with your cum until I'm pregnant with your baby."

"I-I…"

"I know you want to. Your girlfriend told me how much you like bunnies, and I just so happen to be one too." The woman pokes her head forward. You recognize her immediately as Eunbi. She was a friend of Nayeon, who you met on one occasion.

"E-eunbi," you moan.

"You're getting hard again. Am I just that pretty that you get hard looking at me?" She laughs. Eunbi walks in front of you, wearing a cardigan over her bikini top and a short skirt. The cardigan barely hangs together with a single button, exposing her large breasts. Eunbi smiles as you stare at her. "I guess you really like what you see. Why don't you get a better look?" Eunbi asks as she leans forward. You watch her tits sway, and your hand automatically reaches for them instead of the single button of her cardigan. Eunbi playfully slaps your hand away from her tits. "Ah, ah, ahh. No touching just yet. I said to take a better look." You reach back up, this time unbuttoning her cardigan. As it swings open, Eunbi throws it to the side and places her arms under her tits, raising them up. "You want these, right? Well, I'll let you touch them, but before that," Eunbi stops and kisses you; her tongue drags along your lips, asking for permission to enter. You grant her access and match her passion; your hands begin to wander her body while avoiding her tits. "That’s a good boy; you're learning." Eunbi looks away from you toward Eunha and Nayeon, who sit in the same position watching you.

You glance at them, seeing that they're touching each other. Eunha fingers Nayeon and vice versa while they watch the action. Eunbi crawls back until she's between your legs. She tugs at your shorts, signaling for you to help her. You raise your hips, and Eunbi slips them off you. She feigns shock when your cock flops free. Eunbi raises her ass to the air while placing her face beside your cock. She softly licks the sides, "So this is the beast that’s going to breed me." You groan Eunbi's name as she flicks the tip with her tongue. "That’s right, moan my name, baby." Eunbi flicks the tip with her tongue again, making you moan. "After this, you can touch my tits all you'd like." Eunbi tugs at the string at the front of her bra, pulling it outward. She positions your cock between the pillowy flesh of her tits. "Aww, look at your cock twitch. You like my tits that much?" Eunbi lets her mouth fill with saliva before letting it drip onto your cock. The warm liquid runs down your shaft and between her soft tits. As she smothers your cock the saliva spreads, coating her chest.

Eunbi slowly starts moving, raising her tits and dropping them. The waves of pleasure that run over you begin to feel much greater when Eunbi kisses the head of your cock. "I think I'll have a taste." She says before taking the head into her mouth. Eunbi cups her tits, moving them around your shaft while her tongue toys with the tip. You stare into her eyes while feeling her tongue slowly swirl around the head.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum, Eunbi," you moan as you let your head fall back. Eunbi smiles before taking in more of your cock. Her lips stretch around it as she reaches your base, and her tongue rubs along the underside of your cock while your head hits the back of her throat. Eunbi starts to moan, causing her throat to vibrate around your cock. "Oh fuck." You groan as you buck your hips upward and fill Eunbi's mouth with your hot cum. As you're cumming Eunbi sucks on your cock, making sure every drop runs down her throat. She closes her eyes as she relishes the feeling. Soon she starts to back off. She keeps her lips wrapped around it as she reaches the tip; with a kiss, she leaves your cock.

Eunbi chuckles and grabs your still-hard cock. "That felt good, and your cum was so tasty." She gently slaps her face with your cock. "You're still hard, too. You really are a beast." Eunbi drags her tongue along the head of your cock one more time before unbuttoning her skirt and taking it off. "There's another mouth right here that wants some cum, too," Eunbi says as she rubs her folds. "Lay back and let me do the work." You nod and lay on your back while she crawls over you, her heavy breasts swaying with each movement. You reach down and take one in your hand, squeezing the soft flesh. Your fingers dig into her breast, causing Eunbi to moan. "Naughty boy, I know I let you touch them, but you can't resist, can you?" Eunbi is inches from your face; she bends down a little more and gets beside your ear. "They're not filled with milk yet; give it a few months, then you can drink all the milk you want from them," she whispers. Eunbi straightens her back and rubs your cock against her folds. Your hands move to her waist as you try to pull her down. "Patience," she says as she aligns your cock with her pussy.

She gently sits down on your cock, letting her pussy swallow it in one smooth motion. You feel her walls separate as her cunt welcomes you. Eunbi swivels her hips a few times; you feel every movement and moan. Her vaginal walls rub against your surrounded head, causing both of you immense pleasure. "I feel so full, and you haven't even cummed yet." Eunbi moans. She rises from her position, leaving the tip inside before dropping onto your cock. "Fuck, yes." She yells. Eunbi leans forward and captures your lips as she rides you earnestly. Her cunt crashes against your pelvis with every thrust. You hold her waist as she slams herself against you; her soft lips only break the kiss to release loud moans. Her tits rub against your chest, swinging because of Eunbi's quick movements. "Play with my tits," Eunbi commands as she rips off her bikini top. You do as she says, moving your hands to her tits; you massage them briefly before you feel her hard nipples. You lean forward, taking one of her nipples in your mouth while your fingers play with the other. Eunbi's moans grow louder as her pace grows erratic. You both feel your orgasms approaching. Determined to last a little longer, you hold Eunbi down with your free hand. She swivels her hips quickly, keeping the pleasure flowing. Your strength starts to fade as you get ever closer to your orgasm. At her first opportunity, Eunbi starts riding you again.

Unable to hold on any longer, you let out a great moan, "I'm cumming, Eunbi!"

"Fuck me too! Fill my womb with your cum!" She yells while impaling herself on your cock. You bite Eunbi's nipple while you fill her cunt. She throws her head back from the pleasure as she squirts over your body. Her love nectar coats your cock and lower body as she's completely filled. When your orgasm ends, you let go of her nipple and see the imprint of your teeth on her breast. Eunbi notices it soon after as she's grinding on your cock. "What's this?" She laughs. "Is this your way of marking me as yours? I think there was an easier way of knowing that." She says while rubbing her flat and toned stomach. "Well, I guess this bite mark is better for now."

Behind you, you hear the shrieks of Eunha and Nayeon. As you turn your head, you see their bodies shaking as they kiss each other. Eunbi laughs, and you join her. "I guess we gave them a pretty good show."

"Why don't we continue? I mean, we can't guarantee you bred me with just one creampie, can we?" Eunbi says as she gets off you. Cum immediately runs down her meaty thighs as she stays standing. She motions you to stand, and you follow along. She kneels down on the beach towel you were using before getting on all fours, facing Eunha and Nayeon. "Come on, don't you want to see your girlfriend while you're fucking me?" The idea gets you hard, and you position yourself behind Eunbi. When you ensure Eunha is watching, you ram your cock into Eunbi. You grab Eunbi's tits and pull her upper body up. Turning her head to the side, you kiss her while staring at Eunha. Eunha and Nayeon smile at each other before they finger themselves again.

One of your hands digs into Eunbi's tit while the other plays with her clit. Eunbi’s moans are loud enough for them to hear her. It turns them on; you watch as they start grabbing at each other's breasts while continuing to finger themselves. Seeing Nayeon play with Eunha's body makes you get harder inside Eunbi. Eunbi enjoys it, too, as you feel her smile while kissing her. With every thrust, you spill more cum from Eunbi's cunt, but it's of no worry to either of you. You both know you're going to dump more than you're spilling inside her when you cum again. You can hear the two women in front of you begin to moan loudly, and you see their bodies shake. Knowing they are near their orgasm, you start thrusting faster. You feel Eunbi grow tighter as you continue to thrust. "I'm going to cum again," she moans.

"Me too. Get ready for another load."

"I-I love you," Eunbi says as you fill her with another wave of cum. Her body twitches in your arms until her orgasm ends. When it does, you let her go; Eunbi leans against you for a minute before you help her up.

"Did you mean that last part?" You ask as you walk over to Eunha and Nayeon.

"No, I just thought it would make you cum harder," Eunbi says as she laughs.

"Maybe if you said it earlier, I was already cumming when you said it." You reply.

"Now I know for next time," Eunbi responds.

When you reach Eunha and Nayeon, the first thing they do is take some of the cum rolling down Eunbi's thighs and give themselves a taste. "It’s not as good as straight from the source. Is it, Nayeon?" Nayeon holds back a laugh and nods along. "So, did you enjoy it?" Eunha asks.

"Yeah, it felt really good. Thanks for letting me have some fun with him," Eunbi responds.

"Yeah, it felt good. Especially knowing you two were watching."

Eunha stands up and kisses your cheek. "Good, I'm glad you had fun, baby." Eunha looks toward Eunbi. "You can live with us if you want. Nayeon is right now. It'll give you access to him whenever you want."

"Maybe we should get Eunbi a bunny suit," Nayeon says, chiming in.

"Oh! You're right! She needs a bunny suit too." Eunha says excitedly. Eunbi ends up agreeing to live with you.

"So, who's the next bunny he's going after?" Eunbi asks. "I mean, this beast can just keep going and going." She says while holding onto your cock. "We're going to need to get some more bunnies for him."

Eunha and Nayeon think about it before answering, "We'll figure it out together." A while later, Eunbi gave the news that she was pregnant too.

She slapped your shoulder playfully during her announcement, "Look at you, breeding me in one try." She looked like she wanted to say more but stopped herself. After a small celebration, Eunbi got you alone in the kitchen and sensually whispered, "Now all you have to do is wait a few months, and you can have all the milk you want, mister."

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #eunbi smut #izone smut

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todorokies · 6 months

Text

A LONG WALK - satoru gojo & suguru geto

✩࿐ a midnight summer stroll with your companions stirs certain emotions regarding self doubts & nostalgia . . .

contents: sfw, polygamous satosugu x reader (can be perceived as platonic or romantic), gn!reader, fluff & angst with some comfort, 1.3k words

a/n: based off of this fanart … pls support me by reblogging my work !!

the chilled summer breeze flows melodically through the air and finds its way swirling into your skin, arising small goosebumps on your exposed arms. you should’ve taken suguru’s advice into consideration by wearing a light cardigan for your midnight outing instead of leaving with a simple tank top.

albeit taken back by the breeze, you couldn’t be truly bothered by it, allowing the gentle wind to cascade your face caressing you softly like an embrace. with closed eyes, enjoyable fragments of your childhood flashes before your eyes with each rippling gust of currency.

your mother taking you to your first hanabi festival, getting your face painted with unique spiral patterns, the colourful loud sparks of light illuminating the sky as children’s laughs and adults’ excited clamours follows along with each firework.

your chest begins to rapidly ache by the supposedly fond memory, causing palpitations on your fragile heart. your innocence got unrightfully taken away at such a young age being forced to slave the rest of your life away to the occupation of a sorcerer, something you still haven’t come to terms with.

despite the roaring traffic in the centre of the city, a particular voice is able to pull your mind out of self imprisonment.

“a penny for your thoughts?” satoru appears standing by your side with two popsicles in one hand —one that is wrapped and the other unwrapped, presumably his.

you playfully scoff, reaching for the wrapped popsicle and satoru takes a seat next to you on the bench; your face must’ve been in clear discomfort for him to ask. “keep the penny, it’s nothing serious.” you attempt to wave off his concerns.

he nudges at your elbow, “if it’s causing you to look like you’re going through a midlife crisis on a park bench then it’s definitely serious, cmon spill it.” his words are lighthearted but voice is woven with sympathy.

“where’s suguru?” you dodge his inquiry “and you got me the shittiest flavour, really? nobody likes grape, you should know by now i’m a cherry type of person.”

satoru throws a complex glance your way but decides to not push it any farther, “he went to the convenience store to pick up some ingredients. i think he wanted to cook us beef stir-fry this time? not sure though.”

you hum in acknowledgment finding it a bit strange how he doesn’t press you for more information or your popsicle flavour statement. comfortable silence soon falls amongst you two, the frequent honking of cars and chatting of civilians keeps the streets lively. it’s a nice reminder that you’re never truly alone in such a big city as tokyo.

but alas, the warmth the eccentric city provided could never be enough to rebuild the wall of blissful ignorance you once had as a child. having to lick over the fresh wounds that reopen every time something triggers the painful truth of your inevitable death that will come from this line of work.

you must’ve been zoned out for quite some time because the grape popsicle began to melt and trickle down your hand landing in droplets on your pants.

“‘toru—” you begin but bite your tongue unaware of where to even start in your pursuit to find answers to calm your erratic mind.

“what does nostalgia feel like to you?” a stupid question indeed, as you watched satoru’s face twist and turn trying to either make sense of it or formulate his answer.

he soon replies, “it usually hits me in the face at the weirdest times, but when it does, it’s a bittersweet feeling that makes me glad i was able to experience it when i did.” he shrugs, licking at his almost-done blue popsicle.

“oh.”

“was that not the answer you were looking for?” he frowns, peering at you through his sunglasses.

“no, it’s not that, whenever i feel nostalgic it’s a gross gut wrenching feeling that seriously makes me ill. i hate it.” you truthfully express yourself.

“well, there’s no right or wrong way of feeling nostalgic, it just stems from how intense you feel about that specific memory.” his words flow casually as if this topic was second nature to him.

you huff, “since when did you become so insightful and wise?” you attempt at a joke to lighten the dull mood.

he laughs. the type of laugh where his snowy white hair bounces rhythmically with each chuckle that emerges from his throat “oh stop that! i’ve always been big brained with knowledge.”

another fit of comfortable silence washes over until you felt the urge to break it, “y’know, sometimes i wish i could live in the past forever… the present is too painful at times.”

satoru demeanour falters as an unfamiliar emotion glistens in his eyes then disappears shortly after. his eyebrows furrow causing creases in the middle, he nibbles at his bottom lip with a visible hurt expression distorting his face, “are me and suguru not enough for you?” he immediately regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

satoru isn’t religious by any means, but he’d like to thank whoever is higher above for making it possible that you and suguru have crossed paths with him. you both complete him and give him a sense of purpose to continue what he deems he does best at; protecting. satoru prefers to live in the present with his loved ones, not the past. hearing those string of words from you caused a small pit in his stomach to erupt.

your eyes widen, “no! that’s not what i meant—”

“sorry for the long wait, i had trouble deciding if i should buy teriyaki sauce or we should just make it ourselves.” suguru comes into view from the sidewalk with a grocery bag in hand and a popsicle in the other. his eyes dart between you and satoru, already sensing unspoken tension, “everything okay?” he quirks an eyebrow up.

“yup!” satoru responds with obvious faux glee. he stretches his legs then proceeds to get off the bench taking a quick peak in the grocery bag, “took you long enough though, we were gonna turn into skeletons soon.” he flicks suguru’s forehead then scurries off like a mouse farther down the sidewalk to avoid getting his foot stomped on.

you join suguru by his side to journey back to campus. he briefly recalls his sightings that included a newly opened karaoke bar and hydrangeas are finally in bloom having seen them on his way to the store.

“you should talk to him when we get back, let him cool off for a bit,” he refers back to satoru. his minty breath fanning against the shell of your ear, “i will, don’t worry.” you send a tight-lipped smile his way.

the walk back is peaceful. the breeze from before turned into clouds of humidity, grasshoppers chirped loudly replacing the buzzing traffic that has now quieted down, assuming everyone else is calling it a night as well.

suguru takes out his phone to check the time mumbling curses under his breath once he reads three-thirty-five am, “we should hurry back before yaga kills us.”

his words trigger something in you.

“do you think we’ll be able to survive in the long run?” you suddenly blurt out. your voice shakes as you attempt to shove the forming lump in your throat down.

context isn’t provided but suguru has a hunch of what you could be referring to. the air around gets thick and the world stills as he carefully thinks over many ways to respond to the difficult question with a simplified answer.

“i think—” he pauses, and glances over at you to see your glossy eyes reflect in the moonlight and his heart crumbles at the sight.

at the end of the day, you were all still children forced into a wretched society that measures self value to strength and was either discarded by the horrors that walked among this earth or the adults in charge of the hierarchy.

“i think we should just protect who we can and cherish our possibly limited time together.”

tags: @tokyeoi @satocidal @yunymphs

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated <33

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jsprnt · 2 months

Text

Americano PT. 4 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: thank u guys for waiting and having patience! enjoy reading <3

W/C: 4.092

part three

"I'm craving a late-night dessert."

I lazily text Luis, shifting on my hotel room bed in Girona. The minimalist interior helping my mind rest after the very hectic and stressful day.

The match against Girona FC was a blazing success with a 3-0 win for us, and what better way to celebrate than having good food?

My eyes widen slightly at the message popping up on the screen, reading Luis' response quickly.

"Meet me at the restaurant in twenty."

I immediately plant my feet down on the floor, sliding the hotel slippers on. Hurriedly having to put on something appropriate since my pyj wouldn't cut it. Rummaging through my small suitcase, I grab my just-in-case slip dress. I would always pack a dress for situations exactly like these. Thankfully, it hadn't wrinkled that much, still looking acceptable enough to be worn out.

I pull the dress over my frame, checking it out in the mirror. Fixing my appearance a bit, for once glad I was too lazy to remove my makeup.

I grab my phone and keycard, walking out of my hotel room. My sandals clicking against the marble floor and echoing throughout the spacious hallway.

I press the elevator button, scrolling through my phone as I wait for the elevator to travel up to my floor. The doors open a moment later with a small noise. I raise my head, ready to step forward, watching the doors slide open patiently, but freeze when I see Vinicius and Jude stand in the elevator.

Both men are dressed up to some extent. Vini just wearing a white T-shirt, while Jude is dressed in a gray cardigan.

It wasn't even that cold..

"Hi?" I greet, trying to keep my facial expression neutral, stepping inside reluctantly. My eyes darting over to the panel of buttons.

"Hey, where are you going?" Vini asks, and at that moment I see the restaurant button already lit up.

"The restaurant- like you guys?"

"Celebrating tonight's win, some others are joining us as well."

"Really? No curfew tonight?"

"We got an exception." He winks, making me chuckle.

"Oh, that's nice!" I comment, leaning against the elevator wall. The conversation quieting down and becoming slightly more awkward. Jude's annoying and negative energy pissing me off a bit.

"You're going alone?" I hear a moment later, my eyes darting back to Vini.

"No, I'm meeting Luis there. He's on a different floor."

The elevator suddenly stops at a different level, the doors sliding open to reveal a family of four. A mother and father, guiding their very tired-looking children into the small space.

I exchange a smile with the mom, stepping aside to make room for them. Cringing when my hand makes accidental contact with Jude's leg. I immediately fold my arms up in disgust, trying to shuffle a couple centimeters away from him.

An awkward silence surrounds us again, the minute or two it takes for the elevator to arrive feeling like hours at this point.

We finally arrive at our floor after the family gets off to their level. The restaurant has beautiful outside seating. Pretty green trees and plants decorating the area nicely. I can hear Vini and Jude walking right behind me as I walk closer towards the seating area.

My eyes catch Luis sitting with some players. Watching carefully, I realize they had already combined multiple tables. Making it a table for ten.

So, now I have to sit with all of these men, as the only woman?

I enjoyed the company of all of these men except one, but still- I just wanted my little dessert and go to bed.

I notice only three chairs being available, all across from Luis.

"Hi guys." I greet, looking at them. I slide my chair back to sit right across from Luis, both of us sitting at the end of our table. The other players greeting and welcoming us nicely.

I adjust my dress as I sit down, hearing the scrape of the chair next to me. I look up, staring right at Jude's side profile.

I bite back a sigh and look away, my eyes skimming the table.

"Is everyone going to enjoy their orange juice?" I joke, knowing they weren't allowed to drink tonight, nor was it encouraged.

I hear a couple grumbles and laugh, looking over at Luis.

"What are you getting?" I ask as he hands me the menu. I flip all the way to the back, finding the dessert category.

"Crema catalana, and I'm still thinking about my drink."

I hum, continuing to mentally debate on what I should get, eyes roaming over all of the delicious-sounding desserts.

After much overthinking, I decide to order a classic cheesecake, along with a virgin mojito. I look around to find a waiter, one finally catching my eye. I raise my hand to call him over, allowing the others to order first, fidgeting with my necklace while I wait for my turn.

I look up at the waiter when he starts speaking in English, realizing Jude is ordering and it’s my turn next.

"What would the beautiful lady like?" He says, not switching back to Spanish for some reason. I give him an awkward smile, quickly giving my order.

The waiter isn't necessarily bad-looking or anything, he's alright, just visibly not my age.

Way older for sure.

He repeats my order to me, and I try to listen intently, noticing his eyes flicker to my chest. I nod in confirmation when he's done, reluctantly handing him the menu when his ogling of my chest intensifies. I don’t miss the creepy spine chilling smirk he gives me, but I give him a blank face, not entertaining his bullshit.

I exhale when he finally leaves, shifting in my chair. Trying to calm my annoyance.

"You okay?" Luis asks, glancing at me concerned. His shoe making contact with mine.

"I'm okay. I'll go to the restroom for a moment." I whisper, grabbing my phone off the table and getting up.

I walk into the restroom. The beige and dark gray decorated space looking gorgeous, especially with the nice lighting.

I get to the sink and wash my hands to refresh myself. Deciding to take a couple pictures. I had noticed that I barely had good pictures of myself on these short trips. I definitely had to remember to capture these moments more often.

After spending a good five minutes snapping tens, or maybe even hundreds, of pictures, I realize I had to head back to our table.

I mentally prepare myself, trying to suppress the feeling of wanting to punch the waiter square in the jaw.

Can a woman wear a pretty dress and not be made uncomfortable by a man for once?

The guys I was with did not say one thing or did not look at me in a weird way at all. So, why did the stupid waiter have to ruin my mood?

I take a deep breath, open the restroom door, and walk back to our table. Conversations and jokes being made in full motion put me in a better mood, and I get an idea.

"Guys, let me take a picture of you all." I suggest, seeing some of them look up. Voices of agreement being spoken.

"Whose phone should I use?" I ask, going to stand at the head of the table. Jude handing his phone to me. Realizing he must've understood my question.

I decide to not say anything and just take the phone, snapping some very nice, memorable photos.

"Take a selfie! You need to be in it as well." I hear Brahim urge, his arm wrapped around Antonio's.

I nod, flipping to the front camera, positioning the phone so everyone can be seen properly, and take a few more pictures. Finishing up, I hand the phone back to Jude, going to sit down again.

After indulging in numerous conversations, our orders finally arrive, brought by the same waiter as before. I'm aware he can't bring all orders at once, so I wait patiently, watching him hand out a couple orders at a time.

As expected, my order comes last. The waiter places my cheesecake in front of me, my eyes follow the delicious, creamy dessert-

SPLASH!

I feel ice cubes and cold liquid spill all over me.

There is no fucking way this just happened to me...

This had to be on purpose, because there is no way.

My eyes and mouth go as wide as dishes. I look down at my wet dress, drenched in my mojito. Broken shards of glass now on the floor, next to my feet.

The entire table goes quiet, and I suddenly want to be buried alive.

Is this real life right now?

I look up at the waiter, watching him scramble for the handkerchief in his back pocket. I'm still frozen, in shock as his hand inches closer to me. To my horror, he starts dabbing and rubbing the damn cloth on my drenched chest.

Absolutely not, this couldn't be real...

I snap out of it, realizing this man was touching my body, and open my mouth to curse him out until a hand grips at the waiter's wrist. I can practically see it turn white until it's pushed away from my proximity with a scary strength.

"Don't touch her."

I hear an unusually deep, calm voice say and immediately know who it belongs to.

I don't even dare to look his way, whether it's because I'm so fucking embarrassed or- no I was absolutely horrified.

I watch the waiter clutch his wrist, trying to look as unbothered by the pain as possible, as he starts spewing millions of apologies to an enraged Jude.

"Don't apologize to me! You touched her!" He says loudly, gesturing to me. Frustration painted all over his face.

Oh shit

No way, he just defended me

I finally gather the courage to look at him, forgetting all of my words completely as I watch the situation unfold. Along with Jude, the entire table erupts in voices of disagreement. All of them practically ganging up on the waiter.

The waiter’s expression falters again as a string of more apologies leave his mouth. I can't help but just stare at him, unable to say or do anything.

"Can we see the manager?" I hear Antonio say, beginning to usher the waiter away.

The waiter finally leaves to collect the manager, and I look down at my body, uncomfortably starting to wipe away at the sticky residue of the sweet beverage left on my skin.

Talk about a mess.

Luis stands up from his chair, coming to help me as I can hear soft murmurs coming from the rest of the table. Hearing curse words in multiple languages mumbled underneath their breath.

I do hear a couple reassuring words, female staff members coming to help me out. After a couple of minutes of trying to clean myself off in the restroom, I finally walk back. Feeling much better and cleaner, though still in shock.

A damn late-night snack suddenly turned into whatever this mess was...

When I sit down, I notice three empty chairs, realizing both Jude, Brahim, and Antonio are gone. I look at Luis, shooting him a questioning look.

"They went to the manager, to you know what.."

I didn't know what 'you know what' meant, but I imagine it wouldn't be good for the creepy waiter.

It doesn't take long before they return to their seats, along with a nicely dressed older man. He makes instant eye contact with me, introducing himself as the manager before apologizing for the incident and offering for the table’s bill to be dropped.

That was the least of my worries. I was sitting at a table full of men earning millions every year, the bill wasn't an issue.

"I understand mistakes happen, your staff should be more careful next time." I begin, using elaborate hand gestures as I speak to him, trying to convey my frustration.

At this point, I had given up on my anger, just wanting it to be over with so I could finish my dessert and go back to my room.

"I'm just glad it wasn't anything hot, but really, I urge you get your staff in check. Doesn't really do well with the image of your establishment..." I state, throwing my hands up and raise a brow.

"Again, I apologize on behalf of our staff and establishment. Is there any way we could make it up to you? We already have your drink replacement on the way."

I open my mouth to speak, though I get distracted by a murmur coming from my right.

"Just fire the fuckin' creep, mate.."

I keep my facial expression neutral, pretending I didn't hear it, and continue speaking with the manager.

"No, truly, just a replacement for the drink is alright.." I wave my hand in rejection.

A couple minutes later, a waitress comes up to our table, handing me another drink. I thank her quickly, informing her of my appreciation.

We all return to our fun conversations after I reassure everyone that I'm a hundred percent alright. The mood picks up quite fast when the guys started talking about something funny that had happened in the changing room today.

I finally finish my well-deserved dessert, sipping on the last bits of my drink as I continue to listen to the guys.

I suddenly feel a gust of wind passing me, making me shiver a bit. The weather had definitely gotten way colder as it became later in the night.

I hear a scoff next to me at my reaction, and look in the direction of the noise. I raise my brows, puzzled, as Jude starts shrugging his cardigan off. The rest of the table still distracted by a story being told by Vini.

I freeze at his sudden movement, seeing him inch the cardigan over my back. His arms surround me as I watch him drape the cardigan onto my shoulders. His body very close to mine. His hands go up to close the cardigan, buttoning up the first two buttons.

My eyes travel from his hands to his face, not uttering a single word to him. Eyes widening when he leans to whisper in my ear.

"You're insufferable." He whispers to me, pulling back and looking away, his attention going back to Vinicius.

I smirk at the comment, somehow being glad he was being snarky. I adjust the cardigan a bit, looking at the back of his head.

"That's all you." I murmur quietly.

"Shut up." He mutters, finishing his drink, not glancing at me any further.

I stifle back a chuckle, returning my attention to the banter as well.

I felt insanely grateful for the normalcy for a moment, which with Jude was rare- if not never happened.

"What the fuck is this man even talking about?"

I groan, fighting the urge to bash my head against my keyboard. I was fifteen minutes into my lecture, not understanding a single word my professor had said. I was really impatient, and two times speed wasn't helping either.

I had finally sent in my stress-inducing essay. Now having to catch up on two 45-minute lectures. I found the plane ride to be a very good place to catch up, since it was almost three hours long from Girona back to Madrid. Though, I had forgotten to consider that I was running on minimal hours of sleep after last night’s turn of events.

"What are you whining about now? I'm trying to sleep here." I hear Luis mumble, turning my head to watch him pull his blanket down to reveal his face.

"Sorry, it's just this lecture I need to catch up on." I mumble, returning my attention back to my laptop screen and restarting the lecture. I adjust my grip on my pen and begin taking notes. Hoping I could understand my professor the second time around.

I hear some commotion and laughter in the back of the plane. Not wanting to get distracted, I raise the volume of my lecture, trying to focus completely.

My efforts are finally rewarded when I understand most of the information this time, sighing in relief as the first lecture ends.

"I am a genius." I mutter to myself. My ego was completely boosted now, and no one could tell me otherwise.

Or so I thought…

I instantly hear a loud laugh and look up, confused. I take out my earbuds and look to my right, Jude standing next to me.

Yeah, forget whatever happened yesterday, normal Jude had returned.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have a restroom in the back of the plane?" I ask, fake-smiling at him.

"It's occupied, so I went to this one here." He states, arms crossed against his chest.

"Why are you bothering me then?"

"I heard the most outrageous words leave your mouth, couldn't help myself."

"Can you just let me listen to my lecture now if you're done?"

"What lecture?"

"Law lecture.."

"You study law?" He asks, bewildered. His hand inching closer as he snatches my precious notebook from my table and starts inspecting it.

"I do." I reply, scowling and reaching to get my notebook back.

"Because of your dad?"

"Maybe..." I respond, confused by the number of questions he's asking.

"Think you'd put me in jail rather than saving me from it."

"Well, fuck around and find out." I retort, getting even more annoyed. Our conversation gets interrupted by Eduardo before it gets too heated.

"What are you guys fighting about?" He asks, looking at us, way too amused for my liking.

"Her lecture." He says, pointing at my screen.

"Do you know she studies law?"

I watch Eduardo nod, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder.

"She’s our club’s future lawyer." He jokes, winking at me and patting my shoulder as I crack a smile at his words.

I hear Jude scoff, mumbling an annoyed 'whatever' as he goes to sit back in his seat.

"Is he okay?" I ask, wondering why he looked so pissed.

"He's fine. Just in a bad mood, I think." He replies, telling me he'll go back to his seat.

I nod, giving him a small wave before starting my second lecture.

"Right, but I don't think this could work. We have had great engagement since the beginning of the season, switching up our posting schedule would not have a positive impact- in my opinion."

We'd been in our monthly meeting with the marketing and PR team, and it was practically sucking the life out of me. Especially, with Valeria's stupid idea. I had no choice but to say something about it, because no one else looked like they dared to.

"Then- let's take the democratic approach. Who's in favor of changing the schedule?" Hugo suggests, looking around the room.

My eyes dart around the room, seeing some of Valeria's minions raise their hands. Thankfully, they aren't the majority.

"Okay, well, that tells us enough. Sorry, Valeria." Hugo chirps up, resting his forearms on the table.

I watch her face crumple up into a fake smile, and her gaze averts to me.

"Well, if that's what everyone thinks, It's fine."

"Then that concludes the meeting. Let's keep this up until the end of the year!"

I hold back a sigh of relief, glancing at Lina and Luis as they give me the exact same bored look.

"Come on." I urge, grabbing my laptop and folders. The three of us walking out of the meeting room and back to our desks.

"What are you guys going to do tonight?" I ask, grabbing a piece of gum from my desk and throwing the pack at Luis.

"Thanks! I think I'll just go to bed early. My sleeping schedule is messed up." He says, handing the pack to Lina.

"I'm celebrating my boyfriend's birthday. Fancy dinner, all of that stuff." She says, finally handing the pack to me, prompting me to put it away in my drawer.

"Really? How nice!” I comment, turning to Luis.

“Where’s your bird, old man-”

I begin, but I am rudely stopped by Luis' hand clamping over my mouth.

"We don’t talk about that." He says, his palm still on my face. I grab his wrist to take his hand off me, scoffing.

"I don't have any siblings, so you should step up and make me the bougie aunt-"

His hand clamps over my mouth again, making me sigh against it. Hearing Lina laugh at our antics.

"Don't say anything else."

I shake my head in response, grabbing his wrist again. "I won't." I mutter, having difficulty hiding the smile on my face due to how annoyed he looks.

"I have to leave, only way I can get ready on time." I hear Lina say, watching her collect her handbag.

"I'll leave with you- are you staying longer?" Luis asks, glancing at me, also beginning to pack his items.

"Yeah, I have something to do." I say, my eyes darting to the gray cardigan that is draped over the back of my chair.

They both leave the office minutes later, leaving me to tidy up my desk. I pack up my bag and don't forget to grab the cardigan as I make my way down.

I glance around when I walk down the flight of stairs, trying to find someone who would know Jude’s whereabouts. Finally, may I catch Brahim walking out of the restroom.

"Have you seen Jude?" I ask, walking up to him. My heavy bag resting on my shoulder as the cardigan is draped over my arm.

"He's in break-room three. Why are you asking?" He asks, raising a questioning brow at me and reaching up to fix his hair.

"I have to give him something."

I notice a slight change in his expression at my words, a small smile forming on his lips.

"What's with that look?" I ask, raising my own brow.

"Nothing, you should go. Don't want to miss him, do you?" He replies, his eyes going down to the cardigan in my hand.

I stare at him for a second, puzzled by his reply, but decide to ignore it.

"See you tomorrow, then." I say, waving to him as I walk up to the break room.

I reach over to the door handle, but retract my hand as the door is already opened by a familiar man, a huge suitcase behind him.

Wasn't this that one famous Instagram barber?

"Oh, sorry, is Jude in here?"

The man immediately steps aside, revealing Jude, sitting there in the chair, his hair definitely freshly cut.

The man leaves without speaking a word, leaving me standing there in the doorway.

"Didn't you already get your hair cut last week?" I ask, my voice loud, as I walk into the room instead of standing in the doorway.

I watch him stand up from his chair, his phone in his hand. It looked like I interrupted his photo shoot.

"I need to look good, obviously." He mutters, finally looking at me. His face crumpling with irritation.

"For what? The girls that run away when they find out how annoying you are?" I say, looking displeased.

Jude rolls his eyes, huffing, before looking away.

"Why are you even here?" He breathes out, voice thick with an unwelcoming tone.

"Oh- here." I mutter, remembering why I was there. I extend the cardigan to him, seeing his eyes soften for a moment.

"I washed it as well. Checked the label and everything." I add, my tone relaxed.

"Thank you." He finally says, folding the cardigan and throwing it over his shoulder.

A thank you? That was new.

We both stare at each other for a while, not knowing what to say next to one another.

I wanted to thank him for what happened back in Girona, but my ego and pride were holding me back like a dam holding back water.

A civilized conversation was something that never happened between us. Causing our silence to be even more awkward.

"Okay, that's all. I'm leaving." I finally say, shoving my hand in my pocket as I begin marching up to the door. Not looking back when I hear his phone ring loudly.

He answers the call quickly, and I sigh in relief, finally walking out of the break room, excited to go home.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid fc #jude bellingham fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagines #football fanfic #football imagine #bellingham x reader #real madrid

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finntheehumaneater · 3 months

Text

These dirt roads are empty, the ones we paved ourselves

part two

Just a short little thing so that I can’t panic and back out of finishing this fic. Based on this post by @eddie4bat-president. And I hope it was okay that I wrote it, it just SPOKE TO ME

title from “A House In Nebraska” by Ethel Cain (as always 🩵)

Steve knew that Nancy wasn’t going to work out. He knew, but he was holding onto what little hope he had left that maybe, just maybe, he was wrong. That maybe this would last and he wouldn’t have to end up alone again—crawling back to Tommy like a fucking obedient dog because even though he was friends with Billy, he was still all Steve had left.

Carol didn’t talk to him anymore. She went off with her friends. Nancy said that was a good thing—that he was away from Carol and Tommy and that he was friends with Jonathan now, even though he and Jonathan only ever hung out when Nancy forced them too. But she didn’t understand. Tommy and Carol may have been assholes, and he had always known that, but he had been one, too, but they knew too much to just drop him like they had.

It hadn’t been easy. There had been yelling and fighting when they all met up at Steve’s house the next time. Tommy had thrown something—a vase, maybe—and Steve had gotten in trouble for that when his mom had gotten home. He had told her that she had broken it. She wouldn’t have believed him if he had said it had been Tommy, but he didn’t want there to be a chance. His mom was bad, but Tommy’s mom was worse.

“Steve?” A voice cut through the fog shrouding him and he turned, his eyes searching Nancy’s face. She had that look in her eyes—like she was mad at him. He didn’t know what for. It was expected and annoyed, and it made his shoulders drop.

He cleared his throat.

“Yeah? Nance?”

“I asked if you brought your things?” She repeated, slowly. Like she thought that Steve wouldn’t be able to hear her if she talked normally. It stabbed through him like a knife—but he wasn’t mad, he knew she was just annoyed and she didn’t mean anything by it. She was just…like this.

“I, uh…” he spun around, looking over his shoulder and nearly bumping into something. Lots of faces. Loud. Lockers….oh. School hallway. Right. He forgot it was Tuesday. “No. No, I left…my backpack in the kitchen.”

Nancy scowled, and Steve wanted to be anywhere but at school. The people here didn’t like him anymore, not since Billy. He didn’t want to be shoved around by people who thought he was worthless now that he wouldn’t make fun of people.

“You left it in the kitchen,” she repeated, her eyes narrowing.

Steve nodded, his face flushed. It wasn’t his fault. She had practically thrown herself at him near the counter, pushing him against it with something desperate in her kisses and her touches, smoothing over his arms and his chest and his shoulders. It hadn’t really seemed like she was into it, but she had started it, and he knew better than to ask—just going along with it and letting her have what she (maybe) wanted from him. Anything if it kept her close and (maybe) happy. “We were…we were kissing, I…”

“You forgot it because we were kissing?” She sounded accusatory now, her fingers twitching from where they were digging into her white cardigan, arms crossed over her chest. It was one of the ones with little pink flowers—that he had gotten her from Christmas—laid over the long green dress that sweeped to her ankles, winched at the waist and sort of pleated, the cotton scratchy. His mom had bought that for her after she found out they were dating. Said she deserved something nice from her since she seemed like such a nice girl. And she was. She was a nice girl.

“I got distracted,” he whispered, stepping forward and cupping his hand around her elbow, knowing that she kind of hated when he got touchy in public now—didn’t get why because she used to love it—because he just needed to touch something or he was going to lose his mind among the kids smoking over by the bathrooms and the girls chatting by his locker. One of them was leaning against it. He was dreading asking her to move in a minute. “I-it’s fine, though, Nance, really. I have all my books in my—in my locker. I’ll be okay.”

He watched careful, cautiously, when the corner of her mouth quirked up and she breathed out a laugh, pressing her hands to his shoulders and pulling herself up onto the toes of her sneakers to press her lips to his cheeks, murmuring, “what am I going to do with you, Steve Harrington?”

Steve smiled, wrapping his hands around her waist and shrugging, feeling her hands press down a bit harder when he did to keep herself steady. “Dunno, Nancy Wheeler.”

She scoffed, leaning back slightly and falling back to flat feet, slipping her hands down to his chest, lightly gripped at the fabric of his t-shirt. An old one that he let her take without asking because that’s what girlfriends and boyfriends were supposed to do, right? She never wore them out in public like Carol wore Tommy’s clothes, though. But Nancy was different. “Don’t call me by my full name.”

“But you can call me by mine?” He teased lightly, pressing a kiss to her hairline, moving down to her eyebrow and only stopping when she laughed and gently grabbed his jaw, pushing him back. His hands slipped from her waist.

“Yours sounds better.”

“Mmm, does it?”

She nodded, crossing her arms again. “Yeah.”

“I mean—Nancy Harrington…kinda sounds nice, don’t you think?” He was only joking—and he didn’t mean to make her upset by it, honest, it was a joke—but he watched as her shoulders rose up to her ears, tense and tight, shrugging and looking away. Towards one of the posters for that weird club her younger brother wanted to join. They didn’t take middle schoolers, though.

“We should get to class. Steve,” She whispered, saying his name as an afterthought, like she forgot who she had been talking to. She reached out to brush her hand down his arm quickly, fixing the sleeve of his t-shirt from where it had hiked up before she turned. He didn’t follow her for a moment.

He didn’t know how he had fucked this up so badly. She had her future all planned out—and apparently she didn’t know if he was a part of it. She was going to go to some fancy college up north and become a journalist. And he fit in there somewhere if he was still around.

He had thought that she was in his future, too. A house, six kids, long drives on the coast to beaches that would leave sand in their shoes for years…he hadn’t told her that, though. She wouldn’t have liked it. Called it what it was. A dream. Because who would want kids with him? Everyone turned into their parents. And six controlling and manipulative people was six too many. Seven too many if you counted himself. It was only a matter of time before he started to enjoy those meetings he was occasionally dragged to. Before he would cut his hair short—buzz it, even—and marry young. Get rich. Get hateful. Get sick. Spend the rest of his life wishing and hoping that things would work out when they wouldn’t.

That’s what was in store for Steve Harrington. Never Steve Wheeler.

He asked the girl leaning on his locker to move and she did. Her hair was cut short, to her shoulders and light brown. She had been talking about band practice. Trumpet, maybe? He grabbed his books and walked to the classroom door. He stood outside and waited. For what? He didn’t even need to finish highschool. He could drop out. Work for his dad. Run away into the woods. Drown in the ocean with sand in his lungs.

Someone pushed past him, arms full and frizzy hair down past her shoulder, twisting and curling in a flash of deep, rich brown. Her leather jacket rubbed against his arm and she muttered something. Maybe a sorry, and then there was a thud, but she didn’t stop to pick up whatever she dropped—maybe she didn’t notice?

Her voice was deep. Pretty.

“Eddie!” Someone called, and he turned to see where she went but she was already gone. The thing was still there, though. A notebook. It looked a bit fancy, like she had spent a lot of money on it.

Eddie The Banished, it read on the first page. There were some notes, half-assed and not at all coherent. But mostly it was covered in drawings. Of things with horns and claws, people with pointed ears and flowing dresses, swords. Lots of swords. So many swords to the point that it was kind of concerning.

He picked it up. He would have given it back, but…the girl was gone. And he needed a notebook anyways…he’d find her after school. Besides, how many Eddie’s could there be? Maybe she belonged to that demon club thing. It seemed…like a place where people who really liked swords would hang out.

He slipped inside the classroom and gave Ms. Click a smile and a wave. She smiled and waved back, didn’t comment on how he was late or tell him to do better. Just watched him until he sat. The trumpet girl was behind him, glaring at him. That didn’t matter because Nancy was next to him, tugging the notebook out of his hands. “What’s this? I thought you left yours?”

He grabbed it back quickly, shrugging it off and setting his books down next to him. “Found a spare in the locker. Don’t use this one all that much. Dad bought it for me.”

Nancy eyed him suspiciously, like she didn’t believe him, but she dropped it. He looked up as the door opened and that red head walked in. Tam….Tammy? Tammy. Yeah. Her. It wasn’t like he hated her or anything, she was nice. But she was too optimistic. A total dud. Wanted to move to Nashville and become a singer. She couldn’t even sing, god, it was like she was tone deaf. And, because she always was, she was humming as she sat at the desk next to his.

And I need you now tonight….

And I need you more than ever…

He opened the notebook after giving her a small wave and a polite smile. He had forgotten lunch in his backpack, too. But it was good that he didn’t have a class before this today, because otherwise he would have been too tired. It was his off day from sports. To relax and hang out with his girlfriend.

He was going to miss his bagel, though. They were the highlight of the school day.

It was hard to find a blank page in the notebook, but when he did…the one next to it looked…great. He would have never been able to draw a hand that good. The lines were smudged, like the person was in a rush, and the page was crinkled slightly. He smoothed over it, careful not to damage the drawing further.

The hand was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He saw a lot of hands in basketball. A lot of hands everyday. But there was a small dot on the side of the pinky. The hand was curved, like it was throwing something up and out. He looked down at his left hand. There was a dot there, too.

Next to the hand drawing was a shoddy person, just a shoulder and shirt collar with some curved lines for tousled hair at the neck. There were dots on that drawing, too. He felt behind his jaw, over the thin raised line from shaving yesterday morning—when Nancy had told him that his stubble had gotten too bad and it felt weird to kiss—and…shit, there were moles there. Three. Like in the drawing.

He flipped the page before anyone could see the drawing—didn’t need to be made fun of for being a nerd and for being soft—and tried to focus on Ms. Click as best as he could, all while feeling the piercing glare of Trumpet Girl and Tammy’s soft gaze. Nancy’s side-eyes as she made sure he was looking up towards the chalk board when Ms. Click wrote. His hands kept drifting back to his jaw. His mind kept drifting back to the drawing.

It was weird that the person in the drawings were (maybe) him. But it made sense. Girls at this school liked him. Tammy liked him. Trumpet Girl didn’t seem to, but he didn’t care. Nancy liked him. She did. She told him she loved him so she did, she wouldn’t lie about that. Not to him.

Maybe it was the same with that Eddie girl. Maybe Eddie liked him, too. That wouldn’t be surprising. He might be soft, but he still had great hair.

DISCLAIMER: this is not a Nancy hate fic!!! I love Nancy!!! Her and Steve are just not meant for each other :)

also I love fics where Steve seems Eddie briefly and goes “woman :)” and then meets him and goes “wait. No. What. Not a woman?”

Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi

people who might be interested…?: @jadeylovesmarvelxo @precioussteveharrington @himbosandhardwear @steddiewithachance

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