#two bottles at once is pretty crazy... maybe a little TOO crazy

[just-bendy]

Bendy, how crazy can you get?

#bendy #batim #batim bendy #ask #anon #(( sorry bendy... maybe some other time #two bottles at once is pretty crazy... maybe a little TOO crazy #i can do a drunk event maybe... for a few asks like a m!a... maybe )) #(( idk how to write it but alice doesnt want him gettin drunk off two bottles because hed just be a blubbering puddle of ink #and she doesnt think that be fun to ask questions to )) #(( i dont drink alcohol so idk what would happen besides bendy getting... mega drunk #hes made of ink but i dont care for realism i want him to drink booze and get drunk!! its more funny that way ))

[venus-haze]

Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.

You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.

“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.

“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”

“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.

Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.

“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”

“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“

“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”

You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”

“Pick your poison.”

“Whiskey?”

“Sure.”

At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right. 

He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”

“To taking next week off.”

“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”

You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”

“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”

You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.

“I might need some convincing.”

“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.

You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”

“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor. 

“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”

With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.

He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”

And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.

“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”

He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“What was that?” 

You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.

It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk. 

Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth. 

“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.

“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”

“What are you gonna do to me?”

“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”

You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”

“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”

“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release. 

He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust. 

You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.

You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.

“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”

“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”

“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“

You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy the boys #the boys x reader #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys soldier boy #the boys imagine #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy smut #im a feminist i promise #but do you ever think about how that man could literally break you in half if he wanted to?

[gretavanlace]

Animosity

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, unprotected sex, aggression, arguing, name calling, digital penetration, dirty talk, pet names, etc.

Porn without plot. Arguably an extended blurb, but we have much to celebrate! so my gift, on the eve of Starcatcher, is smut. I love you all! Shout out to this crazy hot request!! Thank you, anon…we adore you and your beautiful mind ❤️

“So, you’re just going to walk away from me? Like what I have to say means fuck all? Like I mean fuck all?” He sinks further back into the couch, crossing his arms like a sullen, bad-tempered child.

“No, Jake,” you snipe right back. A cruel, dismissive edge sharpening your tone until it slices through the anger-choked air in the living room like a rusty steak knife yanked from the back of the drawer. “I’m just sick of listening to you run your mouth about shit that doesn’t matter. I pissed you off. Fucking enthralling story, can you tell it again?”

“You’re tired of listening to me, or you want me to tell it again?” His boots slam down on the coffee table just to pluck at your nerves further. “Make up your fucking mind, sweetheart.”

Christ, you don’t know that you’ve ever been this furious with him, though you really can’t even remember why. It’s been all day. Back and forth. Bitter bickering. Button pushing. Poking and poking, until it feels like the energy between the two of you could break apart with fevered electricity.

“Fuck you.” Is all you can summon. It hisses out of you as you spin on your heel to find solace in the kitchen…the closest room where he isn’t.

With more force than would ever be necessary, you’re throwing open the refrigerator door, fingers wrapped around a bottle of water, when you feel his arms wrap around you, tugging you away from the task at hand with a quiet grunt low in his throat.

The bottle clatters to the floor with a bouncing thud, as you’re pressed against the counter. You’ve hardly had a blink to register, but his hand is fisted in your hair and squeezing against your scalp until it stings like delicious fire. “Fuck me?” He hums, soft and saccharine. “But you seem so angry with me, kitty cat. Seems like maybe you might even hate me. S’that what baby wants? A little hate fucking?”

“Jake, stop!” you snap, with an elbow digging into his stomach, unwilling to let go of your upset even though your thighs are clenched and aching to spread wide for him.

“Have you forgotten your safe word?” The heated query growls into your ear, though he already knows what the answer will be.

Your teeth are clenched - but with wrath or lust, you can’t be sure, “No.”

“Fucking use it, then.” His thigh is between yours now, shoving your legs open further apart exactly the way you’d longed for just moments ago.

“No.” You repeat, once more, even nastier than before. It physically pains you to give him the upper hand, but you love it, too. Fuck, how you love it.

“Oh,” you can hear the smug, cocky, fucking smirk in his tone. “So, my angry little kitty cat wants to be stroked. Is that why you’ve been so goddamn irritating all day? Pretty girl wants to fuck?”

You arch your back, pressing against him in the hopes that he’ll just go ahead and shut up. That he’ll go ahead and destroy you right there at the counter like a whore. Like his whore.

Your silence won’t do for him, and a swift tug at your tangles tells you so, before his voice rasps into the night. “Is that it? Does pretty girl with her pretty wet pussy want to fuck?”

The feverish nod against his clutch comes before you can stop it.

“Say it.”

Oh, fuck you, Jacob. Smug little bastard who can’t let the opportunity to make you taste his victory, pass.

“Hmm-mm,” you moan out, shaking your head, lips squeezed into an impossibly flat line to bite back the flurry of obscene pleas that threaten to tear out of you.

“Okay,” he’s taunting now, and you know you’re in trouble before you’ve even felt his fingers creeping beneath the hem of your panties. “But look at this. You’re dripping. Don’t you want to drip, all filthy and gorgeous, all over me? All over my cock?”

“Yeah,” it shivers out of you with a wanton desperation that should make your cheeks flush with shame. Instead, your entire body flushes with need.

He stands firm and sickeningly sexy “Then say it. Do as you’re fucking told, kitten, and I’ll make you feel good, promise.”

Every ounce of fight drains from your body as you relax down against the butcher's block countertop, and you know without a doubt you’ll need to be careful not to rake tracks into the wood once he’s buried inside you. Careful not to claw marks where you shouldn’t. Careful not to live up to the pet name he only trots out when he’s feeling particularly nasty.

“Say it, baby.” He presses, petting your hair so gently you sigh.

“Pretty girl wants to fuck,” you’re nearly panting between words, but you can’t help it, nor do you care to. Let him hear what he does to you. Let him bear witness to the depravity he sets free to boil through your veins. Let him see.

“Good girl.” He slips the pad of his finger over your slick clit, groaning at how swollen you already are. How ready. How fucking needy. All for him. “Say it. Who’s my good girl?”

“I am.” Your hips are circling and rocking into his touch…you need more, more, more. “I’m your good girl.”

“Yeah, you are.” He nods, forehead resting at your shoulder. “Such a good girl. So, why do you insist on being so fucking bad? Naughty, mouthy little witch. Fucking heartless.”

His touch teases at your entrance, waiting, gentle and nearly still, until you fuck yourself back onto them, slipping him inside with a roll of your hips. “Oh, fuck yes, kitten…just like that. Baby thinks she’s just gonna take what she wants, but she’s wrong…” his voice is quiet, yet melodic. He’s almost singing to you, teasing you, baiting you along with a blissful, bullying, air.

“Whose pretty pussy is this?” He rasps, toying with you.

“It’s yours, Jake.” You purr, arching and trembling. “That’s your pretty pussy.”

“It’s yours, Jake.” He mocks, all high pitched and airy. You half expect him to pull your hair and call you names. To shove you down and skin your knees…and you’re not ashamed to admit, you wouldn’t hate it.

“Tell me you want to feel my fingers inside your greedy, soaked cunt.” True to his role, he snatches your head back by the strands of your hair still locked in his grip. “Tell me you want me to finger fuck you until you cum all over the kitchen tile.”

Your will power has vanished, as though it never existed to begin with. Where is all that fight that once burned in your belly? “I want it…” you’re breathless, whining like a slut, spread out on the counter, tongue sweeping out to curl against the wood because you just need to fucking taste something, anything.

You carry on, happy to complete your pornographic request, if only to make him as weak for you as you are for him. But, he is weaker for you, always…you just can’t ever seem to see it. Instead, his palm covers your mouth, strong and sure.

“It’s cute that you think I really want to hear it. Adorable, even, kitty cat.” He sounds hateful, but you hear the devotion behind the facade, he’s happy to be here with you, wrapped up close, no more angry, blistering space between your bodies.

“I’ve listened to you enough today, don’t you think?” His teeth sink into your earlobe until your knees buckle with a whimpered hum.

“Oh, now you’ve got nothing to say?” His accusation is gritted out between the clamp of his teeth at your ear, sending blazing chills down your spine to curl your toes against the frigid ceramic. “You wanna stay quiet now? Alright then, whatever you want, baby girl. Quiet it is. I’ll help you with that…”

His grip is suddenly iron clad around your throat, squeezing until your gasps rasp and your eyes roll back. His opposite hand is at your mouth, fingers sliding against your tongue, nudging into your throat until you’re silencing a gag.

It doesn’t matter, he feels it. “Be glad it isn’t my cock, shutting this pretty mouth up. Be grateful you aren’t fucking swallowing me and praying I’ll let you breathe.”

You aren’t grateful at all. In fact, you’d give just about anything to be on your knees for him…

And he knows it.

Like a cat in heat, you slink further down, presenting and preening. You want more. You need more…

And he knows that, too.

“C’mere,” it growls out of him, low and rumbling like a feral animal descending upon stalked prey - and before the shudder has even finished shaking through your taxed system, he’s gathering you up in his arms.

Small in stature he might be, but the strength in his grasp has never failed to amaze you. Now, as he jerks you around until you’re caged in his embrace like a writhing doll, is certainly no different.

“Are you sorry, kitten?” He hisses, manhandling you as he throws a dining chair away from the table and spins it just so. “Are you sorry for making me throw you around like the insubordinate little fuck slut you are? Are you sorry for making my cock so hard? It aches for you…it wants its pretty, pretty baby, with her pretty, pretty cunt.”

Down he lumbers, positioning himself on the chair with you, held up away from his lap, watching with rapt attention and a watering mouth as he violently tugs his pants open without care.

And then, there it is, his beautiful cock. Flushed and pulsing. Flexing fiercely and bobbing in the air so pink, so thick, so slick at the blushing crown, so fucking captivating. You can’t take your eyes off of it, and why would you ever want to?

His hands are ripping at you, tearing your panties off ruthlessly until the silk burns across your skin leaving strawberry pink welts in its wake…pulling at the neck of your tshirt until it, too, gives way to his madness and rips apart enough for him to unleash his mouth against your breasts.

It’s a flurry of perfect teeth burying their way into your nipple, the delicious pressure of his lips and tongue, wet, warm, and sucking, as your fingers twist in his hair, crushing him closer to you. His moans are muffled and unidentifiable against the goosebumps he has raised upon your skin.

“Jake, please.” You’re rocking at the air, as still, he holds you away from his lap. “Please please please…”

“That’s it, kitten.” He sounds self-satisfied and disgustingly content with your despair. He’s such a prick when he gets this way, and fuck if you don’t absolutely live for it. “Beg for my cock like a whore. Beg for me to fill your sweet, slutty, cunt. God, look at you. Fucking gorgeous.”

But, rather than beg, out comes the pout he can never seem to resist. “Give it to me.” Your puckered bottom lip tucks between your teeth as you stare down longingly at the prize your body longs to swallow up. “Fuck me, Jake…fuck your kitten. Please, baby?”

“You fuckin’ brat.” He snaps, but his arms loosen, allowing just a hint more freedom to your movement. “Spoiled little thing isn’t playing fair.” He tugs your mouth open and licks against your tongue.

“Go on, then,” his palm, warm and insistent, cracks your ass cheek, hard and firm. Milk chocolate eyes dancing wildly when you suck in a sharp gasp. “You want it so badly? Fuck me. Kitty wants some dick? Kitty can fucking work for it.”

Your hips lower without hesitation and rock this way and that until the tip of his cock is resting at your entrance. “C’mon, kitty cat,” he coaxes like the arrogant prince he likes to pretend to be. “Fuck me.”

Without preamble, without thought for angle, or the consequence of pain, you sink down around him all at once. Sucking him in, hot and snug, tightening around him with a wail of relief as your head tips back until you're crying out to the ceiling.

His face is hidden between your breasts, mouth searching, tongue lapping at your skin as he groans and murmurs your name. “You feel so good, baby girl. So fucking good. Too fucking good. Fuck…fuck…”

Back and forth his pretty face nuzzles, his mouth searching out places to mark you, sucking bruises into your tits as you shove them further in his face, silently begging him to brand you.

But as he grows louder, he begins fighting back to the surface, shaking off your riptide in favor of that delectable dominance he favors “Faster.” He orders, both hands taking hold of your throat just hard enough to make you writhe. “Do it, baby. Come on…” there’s that teasing, coaxing tone that sets your entire body alive in white hot, licking, flames. “Come on. You know how to do it. You know how to fuck me, c’mon.”

Harder and faster you ride him, clutching at the back of his chair for leverage until your knuckles are ghost-white and your nails are screaming, threatening to snap off in the wood.

“Good girl…” his grip is twisting so gently around your neck as your keening moans vibrate into his palms. “Good fucking girl. Say it.”

You know what he wants, and so he shall have it. “I’m a good fucking girl.” They are hardly words at all, more like breathless whines, but they do just fine for him.

“Yes, you are, kitten, yes you are.” Now one of his hands is at your cheek, cupping it as agonized tears streak into his palm…you’re just so fucking close. “And you’re gonna be a good girl and fuck me until I cum, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…” it’s ineloquent and cut off by a shaking moan, but you’ve never cared about anything less.

“Yeah, you are. Make me cum, kitty cat. Come on, make me fucking cum…”

This time, it's his words that drift off into incoherent, desperate whines that flip your stomach and trip you over the edge. You finish, hard and fast, lulled by the obscenities tumbling off of his filthy tongue.

“Please, baby…” he’s clutching at you now, thrusting up to meet you so forcefully you absently worry he might tip the chair over, toppling you both to the floor. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna, oh fuck…”

His teeth catch your shoulder through the tattered remnants of your shirt, gnawing at your flesh as grunts and wails and growls of release seep into your skin.

Finally, though you wish it would never end, his arms fall slack, swinging at the sides of the chair, as his mouth soothes over the bites he’s left you with.

“God damn, baby girl…” he laughs softly, kneading softly into the screaming muscles of your thighs. “Thought you were gonna fuck it right off.”

“Shut up,” you giggle, quiet with exhaustion. “Take me upstairs and take care of me? I’m sleepy.”

Without a word, you’re gathered up in his arms. You know you’ll be tenderly deposited at the foot of the stairs, to navigate them on your own, with your hand held in his…but that’s perfect, you’re always happy to let him lead the way.

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#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #fanfic #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #gvf fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiska fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake greta van fleet #jake kiszka fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #gvf one shot #gvf smut #gvf jake

[elsweetheart]

saw rin @coeurify write some roommate!abby so i decided to write some too cos i’m feeling #inspired

slutty!roommate!abby short fic / drabble below the cut 💋 minors dni & don’t ask for part 2

It’s not like you were dating. Just living together — roommates, that’s all it was. A shabby and cozy little apartment, tucked away in a nice enough area. There’d be a new problem each week— AC busted, closet door swinging off, flickering light bulb, and you were lucky enough to live with a 6ft blonde walking talking ‘Don’t call the plumber / electrician / whatever, I got it’ machine. Things worked out pretty well.

The two of you were close. Almost too close. Your friendship bordered on simmering sexual tension whilst always keeping it just respectful and distanced enough for neither of you to make a move. You liked to think she enjoyed it, keeping you just out of reach like this. She knew you wanted her, but where was the fun in giving in?

Abby got around. It was no rumour that she had a history of being the community strap, and whilst her crazy days had died off a little — you’d still be awoken once or twice a fortnight to the sound of a new girl with the same shrill moan, headboard thumping against the wall. All you could do was sulk, snuggle down further into your bed covers and will yourself to sleep with your stomach twisting in jealousy at the thought of Abby curled next to someone else for the night.

The two of you liked to have ‘bonding night’, you know — watch a movie, drink wine, eat snacks, sometimes a face mask would make an appearance. Abby had insisted on these nights when you’d first moved in together, so that the two of you could get to know eachother, and since then it had become a tradition every Friday night that the neither of you would miss for the world. Infact, it became such an important tradition that plans were often rescheduled around it, dates postponed, ubers cancelled. Just you, your good friend Abby, and a bottle of something pink and tangy.

“See, I’d let you pick the movie we watch more often but… everytime you do the movie sucks.” She was muffled by the popcorn stuffed into her cheek like a squirrel whilst she scrolled with the remote for an appropriate choice. Abby had real audacity to look this good tonight. She was spread out on the couch, greeny-grey tshirt so tight it was ridiculous, hair down and a little damp from her shower, black sweatpants on (and fuzzy socks, not relevant to her hotness but you couldn’t not mention them.) It took you a second to reply as you pulled your legs beneath you from your curled up position on the chair, subconsciously tucking yourself smaller.

“They don’t suck. You don’t give them a chance! You just talk over it the whole time and ramble about how bad it is.” You shrug defensively, not seeing the way her eyes flickered over to you and lingered with an adoring smile at the way your forehead scrunched and lips pushed forward in an irritable pout. She looked away when you glanced.

“Maybe they don’t suck but they’re always the same. Always a rom com with bad jokes and like 10 minute sex scenes. Is that why you like ‘em, perv?” She nudges you with her spread knee, jostling you which makes your eyes widen slightly — face prickly and hot.

“You think I only watch movies for the sex scenes? Get your mind out of the gutter.” You snicker, fingernails picking at the blanket because, no — it’s not the reason, but she didn’t have to bring that up.

“Hey, I’m not the one picking dirty movies.” Her voice drags in that flirty and sarcastic way that makes your thighs press together. She always did this. It was your thing, you could say. She winds you up, takes the conversation down a sexual route and you just sit there and take it, always scared to make a move. You just couldn’t bring yourself to, what if she was just making fun of you? You live together, if you misread things there was potential for some major awkwardness.

“If I wanted to watch something dirty I’d just… look at porn or something.” You try and combat her teasing, but it comes out stuttery and awkward and you still can’t look at it. Her smirk deepens, intrigue washing over her. You hear her put the remote down and the scrolling on screen halts as she gives you her full attention. Busying yourself to buy more time, you reach forward and take your wine glass — taking a long sip.

“What, ‘you telling me you don’t watch porn now?”

You turn a little, giving her a look. One that read as ‘you’re not seriously asking me that.’

“Do you?”

“I don’t have to. I have sex.”

You scoff, turning your body toward her now with a finger pointed ready to defend yourself.

“I have sex.”

“Oh yeah?” You hate the way she’s smiling and tilting her head.

“It’s just… been a while.”

She sighs casually, leaning back into her seat.

“Same, to be honest.”

“I literally heard some girl screaming your name like two weeks ago.” Your eyes are practically touching your brain from how hard they roll and she laughs cheekily with her tongue pinched between her teeth, a cute roll forming beneath her chin from the position of her head. Your stomach flips.

“Exactly, two weeks ago. I’m trying not to do that so much anymore. Sleep around. Gonna delete the dating apps.” She clarifies, a look of dignity in her expression as she announces this making you narrow your eyes sceptically.

“And why is this? Who is this new and improved Abby?”

Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes. “I dunno. Just don’t think I should anymore. Think I’d rather be having meaningful sex with one person now. You know, the type where you press your foreheads together and tell her you love her when you make her cum and stuff.” She just says it so casually, like it doesn’t make your stomach bottom out into your cunt at the thought of being that one person, whilst simultaneously making your heart stammer at the idea of the person being someone else.

“Y—yeah. Me too I suppose. That’s why I’m just waiting.”

You feel that your response is put together and mature enough for the conversation to come to a natural end so that you can continue bickering over what movie to watch before you embarrass yourself, but she stares at you anyway — contemplative and analytical.

“You’ve been waiting a while, huh?” Abby talks softer, sympathetic and her fingers that were resting along the back of the couch reach a little further and stroke your shoulder briefly. You can’t tell if it’s kind or patronising. Because of this you purse your lips with a shrug.

“Yeah. Haven’t had sex since my ex-girlfriend was still around so that’s…”

“A year and half.” She raises her brows and you mirror her, surprised at how fast she knew the answer. “You’d just broken up when you moved in here.”

“Oh… yeah, that’s right. I suppose that is a long time.”

She breathes out her nose, long and thoughtful before turning her body back to the TV. You do too, because you think it’s over — but the conversation is never quite over until Abby says so.

“Well, if you ever need your fix you know where my door is. You deserve to feel good too.”

She’s kidding, right?

Like, that’s not a serious offer. It can’t be. Because if it were you’d be on her bed sprawled out with two thick fingers up your cunt and not here on the couch getting wine drunk and horny. Your eyelashes are kissing your brow at how wide your stretch your eyes for a moment as you stare ahead, saying nothing. What do you say? How do you seize this glorious potential opportunity without coming across as totally desperate and ruining things? She is kidding, she has to be.

You open your mouth, maybe just to let out a meek ‘really?’ for some clarification, but she speaks again — totally ripped from the moment. “Why do I keep getting recommended only Lindsey Lohan movies? That’s you on my Netflix account right? I swear, I’ll change my password.” She chuckles, like she didn’t just offer to pity fuck you, and you weren’t just considering take her up on it. You shake yourself free of the moment and you don’t talk about it again.

Abby really did stop sleeping around, and you knew that from the lack of moans waking you up in the night. You could have been imagining things, but she’d gotten flirtier too. Wearing tighter fit clothes around her muscles, making sure to always squeeze behind you in the kitchen with her hands on your hips, chest practically to your back with a low ‘scuse me, sorry’ in your ear as she slips by, the lot of it. You felt you were running up the AC, constantly trying to fan yourself off after she worked you up. It was two fridays since she made the offer, and you decided now was the time you’d act on it. You poured yourself a glass of pink wine and waited on the couch, getting in a few gulps before she arrived for confidence.

You drank the whole glass, and she still hadn’t arrived home. Abby had never missed a ‘bonding night’ since moving in, and now she wasn’t showing up at all? No text, no apology, just total absence. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and pissed off, drinking half the bottle before curling into the couch and falling asleep.

You awoke to the sound of giggles and jangling keys, and your bleary eyes cracked open — flickering to the clock on the wall ticking quietly. 2:54AM. You were about to lift your head, sit up on the couch and call out for Abby, questioning where she’d been, why she missed bonding night. You were halted by the sound of two voices, only one belonging to your roommate.

“Shh, gotta be quiet or you’re gonna wake my roommate, baby. Rooms this way.” Abby, and the tottering sound of high heels behind her. You felt sick. Why did you feel so sick?

You close your eyes again when Abby’s bedroom door clicks shut, feeling your lashes grow damp as you pull a cushion over your head — trying to block the inevitable moans and will yourself back to sleep. This wasn’t the first time Abby had come home late after hanging out with friends and found you sleeping on the couch having wanted to hang out, but you’d usually atleast receive her hushed apologies as she lifts you and carries you bridal style to your own room where she’d leave you as you mutter a goodnight half awake to her. She’d never missed bonding night though, because that was off limits.

The next three days you avoided her. You felt more stupid the longer time passed, because you actually didn’t have much reason to be angry. Yes, she missed your Friday tradition but life happens, right? You were certain if it were you she’d be totally fine with it. But it would never be you, because you’d never miss it. It was a vicious thought cycle.

When you’d ignored her on the way out your door for work, she’d put it down to you not hearing her or maybe being in too much of a rush. When you’d come home, you’d spent the evening in your room, only emerging into the kitchen to heat up some noodles before retreating. She figured you were tired. When you’d shrugged her off the next day when she brought home your favourite type of chocolate — she knew something had to be up. She couldn’t work out if it was her, or you were just going through it at first, but when you’d snapped at her on day three — it became crystal clear.

“Can you stop fucking using my towel?” You emerge in the kitchen, and honestly — for the first second before she registers the anger, Abby is just relieved to hear your voice. She turns around from the counter slowly, sucking some salad dressing off her finger from her lunch she was preparing. You looked adorable — still damp, oversized pyjama t-shirt and sleep shorts, comical cartoony oversized slippers on your feet. Despite your appearance, your expression was as serious as ever, brow pinched in stress.

“Sorry.” She shrugs simply, because you’ve never had a problem with her borrowing your towel in all the time you’d lived together.

“Like, can I just come home and not have you all in my stuff?” You huff, going to walk away but she frowns, following you like a big buff lost puppy.

“Hey, hey? What is this? It’s just a towel.” She nearly whines, because why are you being like this? Your usual sweet soft self has gone grainy and abrasive on her and she didn’t like it. You were shutting her out.

“Whatever Abby, I’m just telling you.” You back down a little now, taking a few steps and she gently takes your arm in her large hand. She’s always gentle, aware of how much stronger she is than you.

“You’ve been off lately, you wanna talk about it? You know I’m here for you, right?”

You don’t look at her.

“Yeah, here for me and every other damn girl that walks through your door. Let me go.”

You don’t mean to say it, because God is it telling — you want the ground to swallow you up whole and you scrunch your face in embarrassment as you walk away, shoulders tense and face all hot. You were not this jealous, petty person. She missed your tradition, it was her fault.

Abby gave you your space for the rest of the day, and by evening you’d wound down — anger subsiding as you plonked down on the couch and curled up sulkily, just feeling humiliated and sad. You missed her.

You stared ahead when you heard her bedroom door click open, heavy slow footsteps approaching the living room along the smooth wooden floor. You don’t look, but you can see her standing there at the side, looking at you sadly, henley top and braid adorned.

“Hey.”

Her voice is smooth and low and warm like hot chocolate and you want to bathe in it. You pull the blanket over your thighs tighter over you.

“Hi.”

It was truly an honest mistake on Abby’s part. She’d woken up filled with regret (and a steaming hang over) beside the girl with lilac-y platinum hair, stretching and muttering out a ‘Happy friday’ to break the tension. The girl cracked open an eye with a tired smile and rasped “It’s Saturday, sleepyhead.” making Abby’s heart drop after a beat. Friday’s. They were your days. She was sure you wouldn’t mind missing one out though, you were always kind and gracious like that. The whole bonding night was Abby’s idea after all, it probably wasn’t all that important to you, right? She reassured herself before politely kicking out her bed-mate.

Abby slowly sits down on the couch beside you, and the weight in the room shifts like it always did when she’d join you. She held such a presence that the air would feel thicker and warmer the closer she got, almost to the point where it could be stifling. “I’m sorry I missed bonding night. Manny dragged me out to get drunk and I swear, I thought it was a Thursday—”

You cut her off, which surprised her.

“I thought you were done with bringing girls home.”

She’s silenced for a few seconds, staring at your profile. You’re beautiful even when you’re mad.

“Why does it matter?” It’s soft, like a whisper because she doesn’t want it to come off as defensive or rude like it potentially could do. She genuinely wants to know. Why were you so mad about it?

You were all tense and huffy when you reply and it makes Abby’s heart clench, just wanting to squeeze you.

“Because… because don’t offer something to someone if you don’t mean it. I’m not… I thought we… ugh, whatever. I’m not having this conversation.” You made a mental note to jump back online after this conversation and search for somewhere new to live.

Abby thinks back, and it doesn’t take her long to land on the thought of her telling you she’d be more than happy to take care of you if you needed some relief. Her shoulders relaxed in realisation and brow untensed, and she reached out to stroke a thumb along your arm, body twisted to you.

“Okay, I understand.” She soothes and you want to tear up, maybe in embarrassment or maybe from her tone of voice making you feel small and cared for. You attempt to hold off and fight the feeling. “I thought you weren’t interested. Thought I’d made it weird so I just figured… if I bring someone home things could be normal again. I dunno, it doesn’t make sense now I say it out loud.” She sighs, shaking her head with her eyes closed and brows raised at her own stupidity. You glance at her, shy and still hot-faced and look down at your lap. “Just tell me how you feel. I think… I want what you want. Just need to hear it, sweetheart.”

She can’t make you say it, not after the embarrassment you’ve already faced. So, you settle on another complaint to tell your story. “You don’t know how hard it is… being so pent up and just hearing you… hearing them get to enjoy… you. I wanna feel like that.” You feel pathetic, but your stomach curls anyway at the feeling of her coarse hand sliding up your arm and shoulder to cup the back of your neck, aiding you in looking at her.

“Yeah? I’m sorry. I think you just feel… left out.” She cooes and you preen into her touch, shifting in your seat a little. You say nothing, just let out a little air from your nose. She shuffles closer to you, bringing her warmth. “You forgive me yet? You want me to help you forgive me?” Her other hand fiddles with the blanket on your lap for permission to slide it away, and she’s so close now that you can sigh and lean your head on her strong shoulder, nodding silently. She pulls away the pink fluffy cover up and rests a hand on your bare thigh.

“You know I’d never miss bonding night. ‘D never neglect you on purpose. You’re still my number one, yeah?” She strokes the skin upwards, constantly craning her head down to look at you, watchful of your expression. “I didn’t know you wanted this, sweet girl. I would have taken care of you like you need ages ago if I knew.”

She drops a kiss to your temple and you shudder, your own arm wrapping around her strong bicep to cling to it as your thighs fall open wider. “Yeah? Can I?” She’s quiet and gentle, and you whimper when she cups your hot cunt through flimsy pyjama shorts.

She rubs a sloppy circle over the material and you whine, the sound of wetness already present from your quantity, filling the quiet room. She’d barely touched you, and you were already soaked — it was astounding. “God, you are pent up aren’t you? I’m sorry.” She chuckles in a sympathetic way, free hand coming to smooth down your furrowed brow. Abby stares you down when she slips your thin shorts to the side, fingers slipping and sliding through your drenched folds to circle your clit making you moan softly. “I know.” She hums, eyes on your lips. “You want a kiss? Will that help?”

You can’t talk, so you just nod and she brings you in whilst she languidly rubs your clit, gently sucking on your bottom lip and pressing pecks to it before finally rolling her tongue over yours. With this, she’s pressing a middle finger against your hole and easing it inside, curling up to press against your tight upper wall. You cry out a little against her mouth and she shushes you. “There you go, so fucking tight huh? S’been that long?” She grinds the ball of her hand against your clit and you hump against it, the waistband of your shorts hugging her wrist as the shape of her hand moves up and down.

“Just—needed this.” You struggle, your warm breath heating her lips making her lick over them.

“I know. Gotta use your words next time, let me know yeah? If you said the word I wouldn’t have been sleeping around.” She presses a kiss to the centre of your forehead, lips lingering there as you let out a string of moans and embarrassed pants at the sound of your own wetness against her finger. She slides in another, stretching you.

“Not gonna last long. S’been too long.” You cry and she nods, free hand sliding beneath your lower back when you arch it off the couch.

“I know. S’okay baby.”

When you cum, Abby presses her forehead to yours.

#roommate!abby #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson au #abby anderson drabble

[alornights]

Bro I am obsessed with your bimbo!Reader it was so good and it honestly reminded me about the song bimbo doll by Tula Tsoil AND PLS THE THINGS I WILL DO FOR A KYLE ONE 🙏🏾🙏🏾

⟢ smarties

➜ in which ! kyle tries to resist the pretty bimbo girl.

🌷 ﹫kyle broflovski.

✩ 🦩 warnings﹗suggestive.

🍧 ⟡ notes — BIMBOS BIMBOS I LOVE BIMBOS LORD

masterlist [ check mlist for details ! ] — previous | next

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"I don't know..." The girl beside Kyle whined as he finally looked up from his page having spaced out.

Mr. Garrison sighed, "How the hell do you forget your backpack."

"I was in a rush." You murmured with a pout crossing your arms.

Kyle tilted his head somewhat amused by what was going on, usually, it was Cartman or Clyde making a fuss so this was new.

The girl turned to Kyle batting her long lashes with a smile, "Hey you, help me out?"

"Huh?"

You giggled pushing your desk to be next to him before leaning into him, "You'll help me out with this stuff, right?"

"Huh."

the only reason you guys even started talking was because you were failing half your classes and you begged kyle to tutor and how could he resist with the way you were staring at him.

even though he's mentally scared due to cartman from continuing relationships he just cant help himself.

trust, he tried desperately not to fall into the rabbit hole everyone else at school was going down with you.

but the way you just seemed to be a little more happier around him made his heart beat and he gave up.

yet he can't help but smile knowing cartman can't nor won't be able to get in the way of you two like he has with kyle's past relationships.

you're too dumb to notice, or you just don't fucking care.

maybe he likes you because your so naive in a way.

either way his head spins and his heart begins to explode with every passing day, his desire to be around you intensifying.

"Who would've thought that you of all people would be interested, let alone falling for Y/N of all people." Stan teased with a chuckle gulping down his soda.

Kyle rolled his eyes taking a sip of his own drink, "Me neither."

"Probably because you're too up your ass." Kenny joked with a grin throwing his bottle at Kyle's head.

everything you did was intoxicating to him, he couldn't breath.

the way you would plop yourself up on his desk your chest a little too close to his face, the urge to just plant his hands on your waist becoming all the prominent in his mind.

the way you'd link your arms with his as you walked through the halls, not paying anyone but him attention.

the way you'd just grab his hands without any notice and start playing with them sent shivers of delight down his body.

he lowkey feels like he's on drugs.

and when you start getting along with his brother? its over, he officially fallen head over heels for you.

and once again i give you a romance trope. bimbo pretty girl with the nerdy hot boy. MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN PEOPLE-

and when you started full on flirting with him he thought he'd die.

"You're so handsome Ky..." You murmur with a smile placing your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them slightly.

"You're making me go crazy." He groaned into your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you closer.

You giggled wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer, "Am I now?"

he's so interested in the gossip, like actually.

at first, he was iffy when you started telling people's drama but after a while, he was fully invested in these fucking plot lines.

somehow managing to get him to skip class, lord knows how.

oh he turns into such a "rebel" at times with you, maybe even lets you make out with him in the most obvious but not places.

bro starts getting real bold really fast though, calls you angel, precious, darling and all these other things.

confidently just starts bragging to all his friends about having you wrapped around his finger (even tho its also the other way around)

makes a living off of tutoring and dedicates half of it to you.

his dad is also somewhat rich, the guys a lawyer, he probably makes bank and gives allowances to his kids.

"What do you think?" You questioned walking out of the changing room, doing a little twirl before looking at yourself in the mirror to see if you were liking the look.

"Divine." Was all he could say giving you a thumbs up, looking anywhere but your face, watching as your dress began to hike up to your ass due to how tight it was.

"Really?" You questioned happily turning back to him.

He smiled with a laugh. "Really, you look beautiful angel."

you so totally got him into haircare and skin care.

you thought kyle was good looking before? he's looking like an angel sent from heaven a few weeks after consistent care.

you also some how manage to get him to drive you anywhere you wanted for lunch, of course, to study.

loves loves loves getting you to play basketball with him.

lord have mercy on him when you start running. the man is gone.

he'll help show you how to shoot a shot coming up behind you letting his arms go all over you with a smirk.

and god knows what happens when you full on just start making actual moves, actual meaning risky moves.

"Mmmm, Kyle can we go home." You whined, tugging him away from his friends. "Please? 'M so bored watching this."

Kyle sighed kissing your lips lightly, "Soon precious. We're almost done with the match."

You pouted letting your hands go under his shirt to draw circles on his stomach. "Please Ky?"

Kyle paused sucking in a breath taking a look at the other guys who to engrossed in playing basketball before looking at you. "Angel."

"Let's go..." You demanded with an innocent smile, letting your hands fall lower and lower.

Kyle groaned, "The things you do to me, let's go."

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #ILLECEBROUS SERIES — ✿

[mayorwatermelon]

Stretched and Swollen from Sprite (And Bananas (and three and a half dinners))

I didn’t actually set out to stuff myself this night. Between having a big gym session and somehow forgetting to eat all day, I was just really hungry! I met my friends at the sushi restaurant after getting cleaned up from the gym, and proceeded to order two entrees (chirash don, which is just really good raw fish over rice, and spicy chicken yakisoba stir fry) without too much thought. I had to make up for lunch, after all. 

Now, I had forgotten this, but sometimes sushi can get me a little more bloated than you might expect. Or maybe it’s the rice, I’m not really sure. Anyway, after finishing both of my dinners in about 15 minutes, and to the amusement of my friends, I could feel my belly rounding out nicely. It pushed out against my shirt, swelling with whatever weird reaction happens when I eat a ton of sushi. The feeling was both surprising and a bit arousing.

I leaned back in my seat, not trying especially hard to stifle my burps, and watching my friends eat their delicious meals with a bit of envy. Towards the end of the evening, one of my friends took pity on me and offered me the half of her ramen that she couldn’t finish. I gratefully wolfed it down, my stomach groaning and gurgling, and driving me a little crazy. See, I was full, but not stuffed. I couldn’t get the thought of gorging myself well beyond my limit out of my mind all the rest of the night, and by the time I was driving home I had made up my mind.

Settling down on my couch, I ordered a foot long Philly cheesesteak, cheesy fries, an Oreo milkshake, and a bottle of sprite. You see, I also had a bunch of bananas sitting on the counter, and I had always wanted to see what a sprite and banana bloat felt like (spoiler alert, it didn’t disappoint). 

I downed my fries sub and milkshake in pretty short order, belching and rubbing my swelling belly right where it hurt the most. Now, it was time for the famous combination. I was nervous and excited, I couldn’t wait to see how much more full and achey my tummy would get, but I really didn’t want to ruin the night by throwing up. 

I ate two bananas, and started to take long sips of the sprite. It took a little while, but I started to feel the reaction taking place. Keep in mind, I was already packed full with three and a half dinners. But now, I could feel my stomach sloooowly expanding. I needed to burp so badly, but the only ones that came were small, leaving me terribly bloated. I was hooked, though. I drank half the bottle, my belly groaning and stretching, feeling waves of pain and pleasure. I couldn’t stop rubbing the left side of my upper tummy where it ached the worst.

Still, I needed more. I ate another banana between more sips of sprite, groaning softly. When I finished I was a mess. My belly hurt soooo badly, and nothing I could do made it feel any better. It didn’t get visibly much bigger, but WOW did it feel stretched out. A half hour and a lot of belly rubs and soft moans later, the bloating had gone done somewhat, enough for me to drift off to sleep.

I have to say, I am hooked on the banana and sprite combo on top of a stuffing. It really sent me over the edge, and I love that once made the decision to do it, I was locked in, and forced to suffer through it. I can’t wait to try it again.

#bloated tummy #tummy ache #tummy kink #ate too much #upset tummy #bloatedaf #swollen belly #gurgling belly #bellystory

[anexperimentallife]

Alex and the Oracle

This is a humorous short I sold many, many years ago, before I even knew I was autistic, but the rights have reverted to me, so I'm in the middle of a rewrite/update in preparation for re-release as part of an "Alex And" collection. The premise (inspired by some of my own weird impulses) was, "What if things that might LOOK like random impulses or compulsions were actually a form of precognition?"

Alex and the Oracle by D. Robert Hamm

The first thing you need to know about Jimmy Cane is that no matter what anybody says about him, he’s not crazy. And I don’t say that just because he’s my best friend. Sure, he once showed up to a black-tie affair wearing lederhosen and leading a ferret on a leash, but I think that falls under "eccentric." Also, in his defense, I’m pretty sure lederhosen are considered formal wear in some parts of the world, he was wearing a black tie, and the invitation did say, “and guest.”

Okay, so maybe he’s a little bit crazy, but if you had Jimmy’s ‘gift,’ you would be, too.

See, Jimmy’s a precog, but not in the traditional sense. He doesn’t actually know what’s going to happen; he just gets these compulsions that usually seem to work out in the end. That whole thing with the lederhosen and the ferret? Set off a Rube Goldberg-type chain of events that saved a guy’s life. In addition to the general agitation that comes when he tries to resist acting on his compulsions, knowing that something as small as, say, what color socks you’re wearing could be a matter of life and death for someone puts a lot of pressure on a guy.

So when I let myself in over at Jimmy’s place to find him on the floor in a bathrobe surrounded by thirty or so cases of diet soda and blowing up an inflatable kiddie pool, it wasn’t the strangest thing I’d ever caught him doing.

“Hi, Alex,” Jimmy said between breaths, “I know, I know. Don't have all the soda yet; I just couldn't wait to get the pool ready.”

Which made perfect sense, in a Jimmy kind of way. I grabbed a couple of Blue Moons from the fridge and kicked back on the couch until he finished with the pool and plopped down next to me, panting. We clinked our bottles together, and he drained about a third of his in one long drought. He sighed and wiped sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his robe.

“Okay,” I said, “Whatcha got?”

We long ago gave up on serious predictions about the outcome of Jimmy’s compulsions, but we make a game of seeing who can come up with the most outrageous guesses. We play as a team against reality, and give ourselves points every time we out-weird what actually happens. Two-on-one odds may seem a little unfair, but reality’s been doing this a lot longer than we have, and it has the home field advantage. So far, reality is winning, and I don’t even want to talk about the point spread.

“Diet soda, kiddie pool… Gotta be a connection there,” Jimmy said. “I was thinking maybe a pile of aspartame-addicted carp showing up on my doorstep.”

“Nah, not weird enough. Make ‘em talking carp and I think we’ve got something. I got a better one, though; how about the Apocalypse is nigh, and diet soda will be the only currency of value in the aftermath?”

“Makes sense; only mutants would actually drink the stuff. But what about the pool?”

“Like you said—mutants.”

“What does a kiddie pool have to do with mutants?”

“Oh, so now I’m supposed to be an expert on genetic anomalies? Maybe it’s their religion.”

Jimmy nodded sagely and stroked the three-day growth of beard on his chin. “Hm…” he said. “Plausible. Hope you’re wrong, though; I think I’m allergic to apocalypses.”

We toasted to our brilliant predictions, and Jimmy went upstairs to get dressed so I could chauffeur him around for the day. He’s got this old VW Microbus, and while it runs great, he hates driving (everyone else hates him driving, too), plus he hadn’t really slept in a couple of days, which meant he’d be a danger to life and limb out on the road alone. (Although, knowing Jimmy, if he actually felt compelled to drive, an angel would get its wings and somebody’s dead dog would come back to life.)

I do a lot of things like that for Jimmy, but it’s not a one-sided deal. He doesn’t really benefit much personally from his gift—in fact, it often screws him over—but it does provide him with just enough resources to take care of basic needs so that he can follow his compulsions full-time with no visible means of support. That seems to include whatever I need in order to get by when I take time off whatever crappy day job I’m working at the time to give him a hand and help clean up his messes.

It’s like some kind of weird temp job where I get to go on wacky adventures with my best friend and still keep up with rent, and even though it’ll never give me financial security, and even though it’s made having any kind of decent career impossible, and even though no girlfriend I’ve found so far has been willing to put up with our little adventures for more than a few months, I challenge you to come up with a better job at any salary.

Because let me tell you, being friends with Jimmy is never boring.

After several years of this kind of thing, Jimmy was showing the strain. Over the past year, I’d seen him almost in tears a few times trying to choose between three identical boxes of cereal, and there was that time he couldn’t sleep unless he wore his shoes on the wrong feet and listened to yodeling records for three days straight. Don’t even get me started on the truckload of frozen mangoes in cold storage.

It was getting to the point where Jimmy wasn’t sure what was a ‘gift’ compulsion, and what was a random impulse, and fewer and fewer of his compulsions were bearing fruit—no mango-related pun intended—or at least none that we could see. But even if he could resist the occasional impulse, he doesn’t dare, just in case doing so might have a disastrous effect on someone else. He’d even started seeing a psychiatrist, but the only thing the doc was able to do for him was prescribe sleeping and anxiety medications.

Even with the meds, or maybe in part because of them, Jimmy was in even worse shape for driving than usual, so it was a damn good thing he’d called me. Once he was ready, I fired up his microbus, and we drove the forty minutes into Kansas City, where we spent the next few hours, stopping at grocery and convenience stores. At each stop, Jimmy pulled case after case of diet soda off the shelves with increasing degrees of agitation. When he found one that “felt right,” he was able to relax for just a few minutes before he started being drawn to the next case. A few places we had to talk them into letting Jimmy go examine the back stock. You’d think they’d refuse, or at least get a little annoyed, but Jimmy has this—I don’t know—this childlike, innocent vulnerability about him that’s hard to say no to. He lives in kind of a different world than most people do, and sort of expects everybody to be as nice and as helpful as he tries to be. It’s hard to say no to Jimmy without feeling like an asshole.

Sometime around ten o’clock that night, Jimmy guided us onto I-35 North, and we waited for the compulsion to tell us where to stop. We finally found the “right” convenience store about halfway to Des Moines, and I hit the men’s room while Jimmy perused the displays. I finished just in time to see Jimmy explode out of the store waving his arms and screaming, “No! Not that one! I need that one!”

He was charging straight at a grizzly bear in denim and plaid flannel. Okay, not an actual bear, but if a real grizzly ever met this guy it’d pee its fur, scream like a twelve-year-old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert, and run crying for its mommy. Man-bear had—you guessed it—a case of diet soda under one arm. Jimmy slammed into him at full speed, and cans flew everywhere.

Man-bear’s face went from surprise to ugly(er). He pulled back a fist the size of my head, and before I could get there Jimmy was flying backwards to land on the blacktop. Man-bear dropped the soda and took a step forward.

“Don’t hurt him,” I hollered. Okay, it was a little late for that.

“You want some, too?” Man-bear said, and I froze. I wasn’t just afraid he was going to beat me up; I was afraid he was going to eat me.

Now, I’m not the world’s bravest guy, but I do think pretty fast when the alternative is getting turned into hamburger. “No, he’s my little brother,” I lied, “I-I take care of him.” It was the best I could come up with. Hey, I said I think fast, not that I do it particularly well.

“Doin’ a pretty crappy job of it.”

“I know,” I didn’t have to fake anguish. Imminent death has that effect on me, especially when it’s mine. “ Look at him, though,” I pointed to where Jimmy was crawling around muttering to himself and gathering up the fallen cans while blood dripped from his nose to the blacktop. “You can see he’s not, y’know, quite all there in the head, can’t you? It’s not his fault.”

The trucker scowled at Jimmy, then at me. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s a little, uh... touched, you know? He gets it in his head that something—like one particular case of soda—is important, and he thinks something bad is going to happen if he doesn’t get it.” Well, that much was true.

I spread out my hands in appeal. “Look, I’ll pay for the soda. Hell, I’ll buy you ten cases.” Man-bear was silent. “C’mon, man, do you have a brother?”

Man-bear looked at Jimmy again and nodded slowly. He sniffed, then in a wilted growl said, “Keep your money. Tell him I ain’t gonna hurt him no more.”

While I stood gaping, Man-bear pulled a grocery bag from the cab of his truck, got down on all fours, and started gathering up the cans along with Jimmy. It took me probably half a minute or so to pick up my jaw enough to pitch in myself. Man-bear even got a cold pack from the cooler behind his seat for Jimmy’s face, and before he got back into his rig, shook Jimmy’s and my hands and said that while he wasn’t going to give any details, we’d changed his life.

Once Bruce’s rig was out of sight and we were back in the Microbus, Jimmy grinned at me, split lip, bloody nose, and all. “Alex, you were brill—”

And for the second time that day, Jimmy got punched in the face. Some things simply have to be done.

“Ow. What was that for?”

I glared at him, trying to ignore the fact that I felt like a total ass for hitting him. “I felt compelled, okay?” I started the car and pointed us back toward Lawrence. “I’m getting worried about you, man.”

“Yes, I could sense the concern in your loving punch.”

“Sorry about that, but are you nuts? That could have gone a lot worse than a punch in the face.”

“Two punches,” he said.

“Okay, two punches. I said I was sorry. But man, that has got to be the craziest thing you’ve ever done, and I’ve seen you do some crazy shit. Did you see the size of that guy? He’d give Mount Everest a Napoleon complex. We could have ended up in the hospital. Or jail. Or both. Hell, maybe even the morgue. Did you even stop to think we could have just politely offered to buy the soda from him instead of trying to tackle him?”

Jimmy’s face went slack. He stared at me for a few seconds, then hung his head. When he spoke, he sounded even more tired and beaten up than he looked. “I was so caught up in...” He looked back up at me. “You really do take care of me, Alex. And I don’t say thank you enough, but you never complain, and then tonight I almost got you… I’m sorry, Alex. It’s just… This is a bad one.”

I very carefully didn’t look at him. “Just think next time, okay?” I threw in some Ramones to cut short the Hallmark moment, and we cruised along to Blitzkrieg Bop.

About halfway through I Wanna Be Sedated, Jimmy turned off the music. “Hey, Alex? If we changed that guy’s life like he said, this diet soda thing is starting to play out, right?”

“Looks like. I just think it could have been handled differently.”

Jimmy shook his head. “I know, but if it’s starting to play out, my ‘gift’ or whatever should stop poking at me, or at least ease off a little, but it’s getting worse. And there are all those other cases.”

“Jimmy, I—”

“This so-called ‘gift’ pretty much runs my life, Alex, and it’s getting worse, and I can’t control it. I never wanted it to begin with. What if it gets one of us killed someday?”

I didn’t have an answer. When we got back to his place I was going to hang around to make sure he was okay, but he said he’d put me in harm’s way enough for one weekend. There wasn’t much I could do except make him promise to call me if he needed me.

#

My phone woke me a little before three a.m. the next night, which would have been fine if it were a supermodel calling to profess her undying love, but that, I decided, was an unlikely scenario, and stuck my head under the pillow to wait for the ringing to stop.

It didn’t.

“I have a hammer,” I yelled, “and I’m not afraid to use it.” Apparently the phone was unafraid of percussive maintenance. I tracked it to the pile of laundry under which it had made its rebel lair, and flipped it open. “Please state the nature of your emergency.”

“Alex! I’m glad you’re up.” Jimmy sounded like an auctioneer who’d been up all night mainlining double-espressos. “I dialed you like, nine times. Are you busy?”

“No, I was just going through the yellow pages trying to find a re-education camp for wayward cell phones. Look, it’s three AM, and you don’t sound like a buxom supermodel.”

“That has never been my aspiration. You said to call if I needed you. And I do. So I am. It’s the soda thing.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose and censored myself. I had told him to call. “Okay, what do you need?”

“I know how to make it stop. Gotta get one more case and get to this little spring in the Flint Hills. About a hundred and fifty miles. Don’t trust myself to drive that far.” He giggled and switched to a bad falsetto. “Help us, Obi Wan. You’re our only hope.”

“You can’t play the princess-in-distress card, Jimmy. First, it’s not fair, and second, you know I’m already in.” If he didn’t trust himself to drive, I sure as hell didn’t, especially when he sounded that out of it.

Half an hour later Jimmy lurched in and knocked (in that order) dressed much like “The Dude,” from The Big Liebowski, only Jimmy’s bathrobe was fuchsia. He banged his shin on the coffee table, but barely seemed to notice. His nose and lip were still swollen, and his eyes were spider-webbed with red, but he was practically vibrating with nervous energy.

“You look like crap,” I said. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Can’t sleep. Gotta go. Here.” He dug into the pockets of his robe and handed me a printed-out map along with the keys to his old VW min-bus.

“Okay,” I said, “but shouldn’t you be wearing pants?”

He looked down at himself and frowned. “What’s wrong with swimming trunks?”

“Dude.”

“Okay, okay. But we gotta hurry.” Jimmy’s a little smaller than I am, but I managed to find some clothes that didn’t fit him too badly. (I let the Cthulhu slippers slide. You have to pick your battles.)

Jimmy had a bunch of those big plastic bottles—the kind that go on top of home water coolers— filled with slightly brownish water and strapped together in the kiddie pool in the back of the mini-bus. “What the—”

“No time. I’ll explain on the way.”

By the time I had the mini-bus in gear he was already asleep, slumped against the passenger door. I knew how this worked, though. As soon as I stopped heading toward our destination he’d wake up frantic. Besides, I probably wouldn’t get anything coherent out of him until he’d napped, so I bit down on my curiosity.

He woke up about halfway there. “Take the next exit,” he said. “That’s where the last case is.”

I pulled off the highway. “You wanna fill me in now? And please tell me we’re not going to get our asses handed to us by a human grizzly again?”

He laughed, bouncing up and down on his seat. “No promises on that count, but I don’t think so. As for filling you in... Wait. Turn here.” We pulled into a service station with all its lights out. Jimmy opened his door.

“Dude, they’re closed.”

“Gonna check the hours on the door and see how long we have to wait.”

The station wouldn’t open for three more hours. “All right,” I said, “That’s plenty of time to fill me in, so spill.”

“I’ll warn you, it’s going to sound crazy. I’m going to sound crazy, but hear me out, okay?”

I said I would, and he continued. “You saw how I got earlier. I had to get some sleep before I finished this thing or I was going to fall apart. Or even worse, screw it up. But I couldn’t. I even took a sleeping pill, but all it did was make me spacey. I finally gave in around one and poured the soda into the kiddie pool.”

He paused and stared out the window. “Keep going,” I said, “You poured the soda into the swimming pool, and then what happened?”

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I started pouring, and there was this... face.”

“What, at the window? Somebody was watching you?”

“No, in the pool. A woman’s face, there in the soda.”

Now that topped the weirdometer, even for Jimmy. “Right. You’re sleep-deprived, and like you said, you were on sleeping pills. People see things.”

“Whatever. Anyway, it freaked me out,” he said.

“Understandably.”

He got quieter. “Her lips started moving. She was saying, ‘help me.’”

“Hang on—You know it wasn’t real, right? Unless... Is your ‘gift’ giving you visuals now?”

He didn’t seem to hear me. “What could I do?” he said. “The more I poured, the more of her there was, until there was this… this beautiful woman standing in the middle of the pool. She was real, Alex. She had sort of blue-tinted skin and long green hair, and she reached out of the pool and called me her hero and kissed me, and—Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’m starting the engine. And unless I hear something of the not-crazy variety come out of your mouth in the next five seconds I’m turning around.”

“Wait, Alex. Don’t freak out on me.”

“We’re way past that. Look, it’s probably just sleep deprivation combined with Ambien, but we gotta get you looked at.”

Jimmy grabbed my sleeve. Not like he was trying to pull my hand off the steering wheel, but just to emphasize his words. “Alex,” he said. “Please. I’m not crazy.”

“Maybe not, but something’s wrong. What kind of a friend would I be if I—”

“Okay, okay” he said, “Just for argument’s sake, let’s say I was hallucinating, and that it’s from not sleeping because of this compulsion. What’s the fastest way to fix that? The only way to fix it?”

I sighed. “Seeing it through.”

“So see this through with me, give me a day or two to catch up on sleep, and if you still think I’ve lost it, I’ll go to a doctor or whatever you want. I mean, come on, it’s a few hours of driving is all, and then we’re done with it, I promise. Deal?”

I rolled my eyes and climbed into the back to stretch out by the kiddie pool. “Damn it, Jimmy, there’d better be a pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.”

It only took a few minutes for me to doze off. I couldn’t have been asleep for long, though, when I woke to shrill ringing. Jimmy jumped into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and started the engine. We threw gravel getting back on the road.

“What the—” I looked back at the service station. The front window was broken out. “Jimmy! What did you do?”

“I couldn’t wait. She can’t hold out much longer.”

I climbed toward the front. “That’s it. You’ve lost it, man. Pull over right now. If you pay for the damages they’ll probably let you off with probation.”

Jimmy’s voice was choked and he was blinking back tears. “You don’t understand. She’s dying. There weren’t any security cameras, and I left money on the counter to pay for the window. If I drive fast we won’t get caught.”

“We? I didn’t do anything except ride along with a crazy man!” I reached for the steering wheel, but we were already going fast enough that I’d probably flip us if I grabbed it. I got out my phone. “Pull over now or I’m calling the police.”

I wasn’t really going to. As far gone as he was, he might try to outrun them, and things would only get worse.

He called my bluff. “Go ahead. If you’re still my friend, though, wait until it’s over.”

There wasn’t much of an alternative. About an hour later Jimmy turned onto a dirt road. When we got to the end of it and bounced to a stop I grabbed the keys from the ignition.

“Help me with the bottles,” Jimmy said, “The spring is just a little ways off.” He unbuckled himself and moved toward the back. I grabbed his arm, and he looked me square in the face. I have never seen him so determined. “What are you going to do, Alex? Hit me again?”

Ouch. I let go, and Jimmy’s expression softened. “I know you think I’m crazy, but I can prove I’m not.”

He started pulling stoppers out of the water bottles. “I hope she’s up to this. She’s in pretty bad shape, or I’d have tried it earlier.”

I had to clench my jaw to keep from responding. Jimmy un-stoppered the last bottle and leaned over it murmuring. “I know,” he said, “But we have to prove to my friend that you’re real before he’ll help us get you home.” He turned to me. “She wants you to know that not all of this is her. Some of it’s just regular water and soda.”

“Great,” I said, “Tell her those bottles don’t make her butt look big. Honest.”

Jimmy scowled at me, and I was about to say something more when the water moved. Trickles from each bottle snaked up and joined to form a translucent face like in, what was that movie... The Abyss or something. It—correction, she—stuck out her tongue at me before turning to Jimmy with an expression of such adoration that it broke my heart. The sun was rising, and it glinted off of her in reds and golds. Jimmy touched her lips with his fingers and she kissed them, then lost cohesion and flowed back into her bottles.

All I could do was stare.

“Well,” Jimmy said, “Am I crazy?”

Either she was real, or Jimmy’s insanity was contagious. I preferred to believe the former. I had to work my mouth a bit before anything came out. There isn’t much to say when you witness the impossible. “What are we waiting for,” I growled, “Let’s get her home.”

We used the deflated kiddie pool as a sled where we could, and carried the bottles one by one over the rough spots until we reached the spring.

Jimmy finished filling me in on the way. The woman’s name was D’lahna, and she was a naiad, a water nymph. She’d been exploring “Overhill,” as she called it, when she somehow got stuck in a soda bottling plant. She wouldn’t have lasted much longer if not for Jimmy and his gift.

We poured first the bottles, then the final case of soda, into the spring, and D’lahna rose up out of it more beautiful than you can imagine. And very, very naked. I stood staring until Jimmy punched me in the arm. “Hey. Mine.”

“Sorry.” I averted my eyes. Kind of. Hey, she might have been my best friend’s girl, but she was gorgeous. I tried not to gape at her, and searched desperately for a way to cover the awkwardness. How do you make small talk with a mythological creature?

“So, uh...” I said, “Sorry about the whole thinking you were imaginary thing. Nice place you’ve got here. Love what you’ve done with it. Seems like a quiet neighborhood.”

D’lahna laughed. If you’ve never heard a nymph’s voice, I can’t really describe it to you except to say it sort of... sparkles. “Your friend is funny,” she said to Jimmy, then looked at me. “This isn’t where I live, Alex, but it will get us there.”

It took me a moment to process that. “Us?”

I turned to Jimmy, who had just stripped naked. (Now there’s a sight I hope to never see again.) He grinned at me. “I’m going with her,” he said.

“But you... She... You can’t...”

“It’s okay,” Jimmy put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be in touch.”

They offered to take me with them, but instead I watched as Jimmy took D’lahna’s hand and waded into the middle of the spring with her. They turned translucent and flowed into the water.

It was a long drive home, and I thought about the two of them all the way.

Two weeks later I turned on the kitchen faucet, and out came an invitation to Jimmy and D’lahna’s engagement party. They’ve already set me up with a date—a wood nymph friend of D’lahna’s who, Jimmy thinks, just might break my losing streak. He mentioned a possible job offer, too.

And guess what D'lahna's family's favorite fruit is? Yeah, at least now I know what to do with all those frozen mangoes.

#writing #urban fantasy #rob writes #my writing

[starlightsearches]

Mail's Here

Thought about this earlier and then I had to write it or I'd die. Let me know what you think 💖

Edward Nashton x Roommate! Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, masturbation (m), language, sexual references, this is rushed because i have an assignment due at midnight but i couldn't work on it until this was done.

"You got a package."

Edward hears you as soon as he walks in the door, ditching his messenger bag and rain-spattered coat. It's not new information—he got the delivery confirmation while he was still at work, which made focusing pretty close to impossible—but his heart still jumps in his chest as you gesture to the box on the table.

"Oh, thanks."

He grabs the box immediately, glad to see the company was honest when they'd promised discreet packaging. It's a little lighter than he expected, and he weighs it in his hands, drumming his fingers against the top of it and trying to decide if it would be less suspicious to go immediately to his room or linger here a few moments longer.

"Whatcha get?" you ask casually, flipping through the pages of a magazine as you recline on the couch. Maybe guilt has put him on high alert, but the question feels almost too casual; Eddie has to wonder . . . do you know?

He's being ridiculous, but still.

"Computer parts," he answers, watching you closely for any signs of suspicion. There's nothing in your expression, though. You're not even looking at him, showing only the barest amount of interest.

"Cool."

It's not cool, and he knows that. The only thing less cool than computer parts would be the box's actual contents.

"Yeah," Edward says, wishing he was still wearing his jacket so he could have somewhere to put his free hand, "well, I'm gonna go, uh, put it together."

"Sounds good, Eddie," you tell him, "when you're done we can think about dinner, if you want. I've been craving that Thai takeout we got a few weeks ago."

"Yeah, okay."

Eddie reaches his room and twists the lock on the door, triple-checking to make sure that it's actually locked, and then giving it a few extra tugs for good measure. You never came into his room without knocking anyways, but today's not a day to take risks.

Scissors in hand, he sits on the edge of his mattress, trying to shake the nerves before he slices a clean line through the tape.

Eddie never thought it would come to this, but the situation is dire. Being your roommate has ruined him in some of the best ways, and more of the worst.

He'd always been satisfied enough with a little lotion and a collection of tissues, tugging at his cock whenever the urge struck him. He'd been satisfied picturing whatever porn star he'd latched onto recently, thinking about the way they'd look with their knees buried in his carpet, or how their breasts would bounce in his hands while they impaled themselves on his cock.

He'd been satisfied, until you fucking ruined everything.

With your fucking low-cut sports bras and your morning yoga routines in the living room, your laundry basket full of lacy panties peeking out from under a pair of jeans. With your kind smiles and thoughtful questions and the hot press of your body when you curled up against him on the couch.

Fuck, he couldn't jerk off enough anymore—developing fucking callouses on his palm every time he snuck off to the bathroom during movie nights and morning coffee, practically sobbing into his palm if the bathroom smelled like your shampoo.

This was his last hope. The only way to stop himself from going fucking crazy.

The inside of the package is a little underwhelming—just the two items he bought and some bubble wrap to keep them from rattling too much in the box. He grabs the bottle of lube first, since that's the least foreign of the two, popping the top and rubbing a few drops between his thumb and forefinger.

Eddie slicks up his first two fingers, his breathing growing harder, cock stirring in his jeans.

He'd heard you once, late at night when you thought he'd be asleep. Walking back from the kitchen after grabbing a glass of water and passing by your door, Eddie had been stopped in his tracks by a sound on the other side, knees weak. Even as his stomach churned with guilt, he'd pressed his ear up against it, and had his suspicions confirmed—only there long enough to hear the wet friction of your fingers in your cunt, and another stifled moan.

Imagining it's your slick coating his fingers has him painfully hard, all his embarrassment swallowed by need. He slides the fleshlight from its box, dropping it beside him on the bed before kicking his pants down his legs and forcing the band of his boxers under his ass.

His cock flops against his stomach, dribbling a little on the bottom of his button-up, and he's already so sensitive, gritting his teeth just at the rough feeling of the fabric.

Eddie grabs the toy again, bringing it close to his face, skin hot as he studies the silicone model of a pussy. He's learned the basics from porn—knows that the clitoris is at the top and the folds around the opening are the lips—but there's a difference between seeing it and feeling it, even in plastic form.

He presses his thumb against the little nub at the top, rubbing slow circles around it, like he'd seen done before. What kind of noises would he hear if it was yours?

Eddie's thighs constrict, and he forces himself to take a few deep breaths until the feeling subsides. He's going to cum before he even gets inside the little plastic cunt, if he's not careful.

Eddie grabs the lube from his bedside table, smearing some over the entrance of his new toy—coating it until it shines—and then adding a few drops to his hand and stroking it over his cock for good measure.

He feels silly, lining up the swollen head of his dick with the little plastic entrance, feels silly enough that he can't look as he presses the toy down until it swallows the tip.

"Fuck."

He whispers the word through clenched teeth, and there's not much else to say, except that it feels so much better than his hand. Squeezing him from every angle, and there's blood in his mouth from the way his teeth dig against his chapped lips, hips bucking off the sheets.

With a little more lube, Eddie's able to fit the toy over the entirety of his length, lightheaded when he sees the opening stretched around the base of his cock, a little lube dripping from its surface, displaced by this first thrust.

"So, god, so tight," he speaks his thoughts out loud even though there's no one to hear it, no one to be praised for how good he feels. He can't stop himself, moving his hand with a few shallow strokes, eyes rolling back at the feeling. "Just- just like that."

Like this?

Eddie hears the words in your voice and he groans, slapping his free hand down over his mouth to quiet the noise.

Eddie, he imagines your fingers at his wrist, pulling his hand away as your hips bob up and down over his cock, don't do that, honey. I want to hear you.

"Mhhmh—" it's all he can manage, forcing his fist against the sheets, hot tears pooling against his lashes. Just the thought of you here with him has him fucking crying, body on the edge of collapse.

Good boy.

Eddie is your good boy, pumping vigorously now at his cock, letting the lewd, wet noises rush over him as sweat drips down his flushed temples. He's caught enough accidental glimpses of himself in the bathroom mirror to know his whole face is bright red, cheeks and forehead shining.

But he thinks you might like that, would want to see your good boy coming apart beneath you, your pretty fingers circling his neck as you rode him to oblivion.

"M'gonna cum," he mumbles, unable to stop his release once it's started. The website had a whole bunch of tips for increasing your stamina—stroking patterns and ways to stop an orgasm—but those are long gone, his whole body a tightly clenched fist.

Go ahead baby, since you've been so good for me.

He swears he feels your lips against his just as the shock of it hits him, spurts of cum leaking from the open cunt as he fucks himself through the electricity of it, your name in his lungs and his mouth and the curl of his toes until the feeling subsides.

Jesus. Even if he never used it again the toy would be well worth the money he'd spent.

He's still sensitive as he slides the toy from his spent cock, a few dribbles of cum landing against the sheets. Eddie grimaces. He'd have to put a towel down the next time.

"Hey, Eddie?"

Shit. There's no time to strip his sheets now, not when he hears your fingers rapping against his door frame.

"Just a second," he calls, throwing his covers over the leaking toy and running to his closet, "I'm changing."

He leaps into a pair of gray sweats, ripping the buttons of his shirt open with clumsy fingers before throwing the cum-stained garment into his hamper, pushing it deep into the basket.

He unlocks the door with shaking fingers, and you slide in as soon as there's a gap available.

"So," you glance at him before looking around the room, "did you get it put together?"

"What?"

A crease appears between your eyebrows. "Your computer?"

"Oh, yeah." He glances at his clearly untouched computer desk, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Were you watching something? I thought I heard voices."

You're being too generous with him; he knows that by something you really mean porn, which means you know he was getting off only a few moments ago.

"No, I was just—"

Talking to myself. That's what he was going to say, but those words are long gone when he watches you grip his comforter in one tight fist, throwing back the sheets.

He watches you take it all in: the fleshlight, the bottle of lube, his cum staining his sheets.

God, there can't be anything worse than this. Eddie would rather be killed on the spot than hear what you say next.

Which is why he's so surprised when he feels your hand against his cheek.

"Oh, honey," you coo at him, and he has to open his eyes to make sure you're really there this time, "there's no need to be embarrassed."

"What?"

God, you are there, looking up at him with glossy eyes and a patronizing little grin. He feels your fingers in his sweaty hair, teasing at his scalp.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but listen, and you were making such pretty sounds for me—they were for me, right?'

Eddie just nods. Of course you've known this whole time. He lets you guide his hand to your waist, a sliver of warm skin meeting his fingers, feeling far away from his own body.

Your lips are at his neck, tongue just pressing against his skin and Eddie can't breathe.

"Do you think you can make a few more?"

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#edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you #the riddler/reader #the riddler/you #edward nashton/you #edward nashton/reader #dano nation #danonation #danocel #dano!riddler smut #dano!riddler x reader #dano!riddler x you #dano!riddler #paul dano #minors dni #my writing

[nickfowlerrr]

headache ❤️‍🔥

pairing: boss!lee bodecker x reader

part two / part three / part four / part five

warnings: sexual content, 18+ only, a lot of pining and fluff, kinda public sexual act but not really, workplace relationship, pet names, and that’s pretty much it i think but if i’m missing anything, please let me know!!!

words: 7.9k

*originally posted to @bellareadsandrecs on 08/10/21*

notes: this is my first ever fic so pls don’t judge my writing too harshly. 😅 i’m sure there are going to be some errors here and there so i apologize in advance! any feedback is more than welcome. let me know your thoughts!

i wrote this fic for @multi-stann’s 1k writing event! i used fluff prompt number 4, and smut prompts numbers 6 and 12. prompts will be in bold italics.

You were already dreading coming into the station today. Your head was pounding and you could hardly think straight. And as much as you loved your job as his assistant, the overwhelming presence of the sheriff had you feeling out of it even on your best day, and today was certainly not your best day.

As badly as you wanted to leave early, go home and crawl into bed, you couldn’t. You spent a good part of your morning debating on whether or not you should call in and take the day off before finally deciding to get up and get ready before you were really late. You used the bathroom, brushed your teeth, and then went to your closet. Your hair was already good to go from the style you wore the day before so all you really had to do was slip on a dress, put on your makeup, and be on your way. You searched your medicine cabinet before leaving hoping to find some aspirin for your head but came up empty. Groaning, you made sure to grab your coat, keys, and purse before leaving. You thought maybe you could stop by the pharmacy on your walk home after work and pick up a bottle if your headache hadn’t passed by then.

You got to the station half an hour late, which was very out of the ordinary for you, and were met with a flurry of folks buzzing around the station. Today was the last Friday of the month, and it was busy as always. You knew Lee would probably need you to stay tonight and help him get the monthly reports filled out and filed on top of the everyday work you were used to before you could even think of getting home. The craziness of the station was less than helpful in your attempt to get yourself together. You normally got to work early, made sure your’s and Lee’s desks were organized and ready for the day, and then got settled into your morning routine.

Being late, you had no time to do any of that. As you walked up to your desk, you saw Lee in his office talking on the phone going over some files in his hand. He looked rather irritated and was clearly arguing with whoever he was speaking to. His desk was a mess and you were worried he was going to be upset with you, and he had every reason to be, you thought. You were late, hadn’t even thought to call and let someone know, and that meant that Lee had to sort through your personal mess of files on your desk to get to his own work. Your worries dissipated as soon as Lee’s eyes met your own through the window. Once he saw you, he visibly relaxed a bit and the most charming smile spread across his face. You gave him a little wave and a shy smile before turning to take a seat at your desk right in front of his office window.

As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, you were definitely falling for the sheriff. You found yourself feeling butterflies in your stomach at the prospect of getting to spend time with him later, even though that time would be devoted to the tedious end-of-the-month work that was always unsurprisingly left to you to do at the very last minute. This wasn’t on the sheriff, though. He found the work as annoying as you did. It was mostly the officers who hated doing their own paperwork and would leave their reports and forms near blank most of the time. Someone had to finish them and get them filed, though, it was a mandatory part of the job. As your mind drifted back to work, and away from your very attractive, and very distracting boss, you felt your headache stronger than before. You could only hope that there weren’t too many reports that needed to be completed before you filed everything tonight.

As you sat at your little desk, you got started on going through and separating the files left on your table for Lee to look at today. You always made sure to have them organized in order of importance/urgency so that he wouldn’t have missed anything important by the end of the day. Normally by this time, you’d have had most of them sorted and ready for him to start working on, but what with you being late, it being the end of the month, and the number of people in the station today, there were almost double the number of files to get through right now. On top of that, your head was hurting and your mind was having trouble focusing on the task at hand for long.

Usually, you could be found walking around the station by now, helping where you could. Whether that was with the ladies up front taking calls and helping out with dispatch and reception, or just making sure the break room was cleaned and stocked and that the coffee was fresh. But those are things you do when you have time to kill. Right now, you certainly don’t.

You know you have a lot to go through, but all you want to do is lay your head down and rest your eyes for just a moment. But you can hardly bring yourself to stay put in the lumpy chair that was provided to you when you first started here working as the sheriff’s assistant.

Unbeknownst to you, from the window of his office that looked out on the entire station, Lee had been keeping an eye on you for the past hour or so. Though he didn’t need to go through the files anytime soon, he was waiting for you to bring them in early, like you always did, so that he could talk with you. He quickly noticed, though, that you seemed a little more than distracted. Anytime anyone would pass by, you would lose your place in the file you were assessing and would have to go back to rereview what you had just glossed over. And as the volume of the station grew, he noticed you shutting your eyes and gently rubbing your temples more and more frequently. He knew you usually blew through the files and had them to him way before he would need them, so it was obvious that you were having an off day; and he was worried about you. Though he hadn’t meant to, the sheriff had definitely fallen for you. Once he realized something was off, he decided to keep his eye on you, and he did until finally, you stood up and walked to the break room, his concerned gaze following you as you went.

Finally deciding that staying put at your desk would be of no help to regaining your focus, you waited until the break room was mostly cleared to get up and get yourself a cup of coffee.

“Y/N! There you are, sweetie! I haven’t seen you all day. It’s been so busy! A lot of work at your desk, too?” You grimaced slightly at the volume of which your name was called as you entered the break room. There at the counter stirring her cup of coffee was Beth, one of the receptionists at the front desk. You two had become close since you started working at the station, in fact, Beth was the one who had mentioned the open assistant position to you and the girls at the diner you worked at previously. You had moved to town just about a year ago and quickly got a job there. You worked there for six months before applying at the station and getting the job you have now. You and Beth had a lot in common and became fast friends. You were about the same age, too, and she was one of the kindest people you’d ever met. She was smiling sweetly at you as you approached the counter.

“Hi, Beth. Yeah, I’ve been at my desk all morning. A lot of files to get organized for the sheriff before lunch,” You spoke softly.

“Are you feeling alright, Y/N? You normally have those files stacked on the sheriff’s desk by now and are buzzing around the station. What is it?” You could hear the concern in Beth’s voice as well as see it in her eyes as she took in your state.

“I’m alright, just had a long night tossing and turning is all. Didn’t get much sleep and then I woke up with a headache that hasn’t gone away yet. I’m moving a little slower today I guess, but I’ll be fine,” You gave her a reassuring smile as you grabbed a mug for coffee.

“I’m sorry, honey! If you need any help, just let me know, God knows how many times you’ve done the same for me. And it’s the end of the month, so I know it’s gonna be a long day for you. Anything I can do to help, you just let me know, okay?”

“Thank you, Beth. I really appreciate that. With any luck, this cup of coffee will help kick me into gear and I’ll be feeling good as new. But I’ll let you know if I need any help,” Beth nodded and with a smile she turned and strolled back to her chair at reception sipping on her coffee as she went, leaving you alone in the break room.

As you were adding the cream and sugar to your cup, you heard heavy steps entering the room. Instantly your heart picked up speed, you knew exactly who those steps belonged to.

Lee stayed quiet as he came up beside you. Really close beside you. You looked up and were met with his ever-intense gaze falling on you. A shiver ran up your back and you cursed yourself internally for the way your breath hitched just the slightest when his tongue darted out to run against his bottom lip. The effect the sheriff had on you was almost debilitating. You were so easily flustered by him and today was no different. If anything, today was worse. You barely had your wits about you as it was and his proximity was clouding your already dazed mind.

You suddenly realized you were staring and felt your body heat up with embarrassment. Quickly looking away and back to the coffee before you, you spoke sheepishly,

“Mornin’, Sheriff. Would you care for a coffee?”

“Mornin’, Darlin’. Coffee’s just what I came in here for.”

“Cream and sugar?” You asked as you reached for another mug, though you already knew how he liked his coffee. You usually left a cup for Lee on his desk every morning after getting the rest of your morning routine done and out of the way. Of course, this morning was different and you weren’t here on time to be able to. It’s not like it was a part of your job description, but you didn’t mind. He had never asked you to, either, it was just something that you did.

As you added the splash of cream and spoonful of sugar, he spoke,

“Looks like you already know the answer to that, Sweetheart,” He smirked, and you felt those ever-familiar butterflies start to take flight in your tummy. “Say, you have those files put together for me yet?”

“Oh, I’m almost finished sorting them, Sheriff. Sorry, it’s taking me so long today,” You handed him his mug and took your own as he followed behind you out the door and back towards his office.

“Thank you, Sweetheart,” He sipped his coffee and hummed contentedly. “No one makes a cup of coffee like you. I always look forward to coming in to find a steaming cup waiting for me at my desk,”

You couldn’t help but smile knowing that something so simple that you did for him was something he actually looked forward to.

“I was worried you weren’t coming in today when I got here and you were nowhere to be found. Thought you’d left me to do the monthly reports and filing all on my lonesome,” as he spoke that charming smile of his left you feeling flushed all over again.

“No, Sheriff, I was just running behind this morning is all,” Before you could stop yourself you continued, “I’d never leave you on your lonesome.”

As soon as the words left your mouth you hoped the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You hated how you sounded. You knew the sheriff’s reputation and you heard plenty about the kind of women he spent time with on the weekends at Tecumseh. You knew that that just wasn’t you. Not that you were even interested in him… Except that of course, you were. And though you tried to tell yourself that it wasn’t important and you didn’t care if he was interested in you, you knew you wanted him to be. Of course you did, and you had for a while. He was beyond handsome and his charm and wit could draw in just about anyone, reputation be damned. He was always in the forefront of your mind and try as you might deny it, you wanted him. Badly. And as silly as it was, you wanted him to want you just the same.

Lee’s smile widened as he looked at you and you saw a glint of something you couldn’t quite name, pride, maybe? twinkled in his eyes. His hand came up to caress your cheek as he spoke,

“I know you wouldn’t, Sugar. You’ve always been such a good girl for your sheriff, haven’t you? Such a sweet little thing for me,”

His voice was low and warm and you were certain that you had stopped breathing. If you thought you were burning up before, now you were set aflame. Being called a “good girl” by him made you feel all tingly, amongst a bunch of other things you couldn’t quite describe at the moment. But it was good… too good. In fact, it was so good that it actually felt terrible. You knew his words shouldn’t affect you like this. There was no way Lee would ever be interested in you. But, God, the feeling on his rough hand on your cheek was intoxicating and that look in his eyes, you were sure you’d never get over it. You could easily talk yourself into believing that there was more than just simple praise behind Lee’s words. He sounded too sincere to have been messing with you, but that was the easiest explanation your self-consciousness could come up with for his sweet show of affection toward you. And so that’s what you told yourself. He was probably just messing with you. He had to be. Teasing the poor dumb girl who was just absolutely hopeless around him. The silly assistant who was so obviously flustered by even just his glance. Despite yourself, that small part of you remained and hoped that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t trying to mess with you at all. Maybe he really meant what he said and he wanted you to know that he appreciated you. Even so, appreciation does not equate to attraction, and you knew that. Lee may have been sincere with his words, you allowed, but that didn’t mean he was interested in you. You really had to stop yourself from your self-indulgent fantasies surrounding the sheriff because it was starting to get out of hand.

But little did you know, Lee really was interested in you. Of course, he wanted to show you how much he appreciated you, but he also loved seeing the way his words could physically affect you. He certainly didn’t miss you subconsciously rubbing your legs together when he called you a good girl. He knew exactly what he was doing and he just couldn’t help himself. He meant what he said. You really were so good to him, such a sweet thing. And god, he wanted you. Each time he visited Tecumseh, he always thought of you. How good you’d feel on his lips. He imagined it was you on his lap, your breasts in his face, his hands wandering around your ass and hips. Your pussy squeezing his cock as he guided you up and down his shaft, you moaning his name as he pleased you. He wondered what other sounds you’d make for him, how you would look, how you’d feel cumming on his cock like the good girl he knew you’d be for him. He wanted you. He needed you. And he knew, it was obvious, that it was the same for you. So he had made up his mind, he would have you. And you would have him.

Before you had a chance to say anything, not that you had anything to say or that you’d even be able to speak if you did, he dropped his hand and continued into his office leaving you standing by your desk looking dumbfounded. Speaking over his shoulder, his voice brought you back to reality, “Make sure you get those files to me all sorted before your lunch break, Sweetheart.”

And with that, you took your seat and tried desperately to ignore the heat growing between your legs, crossing them tightly as you sat.

An hour later and your head still hurt, but you were certainly more awake. You’d just finished sorting the files Lee needed and were working up the courage to get up and walk them to him. You counted to three and pushed yourself to your feet. As you turned to face the office, Lee appeared right in front of you, causing you to almost smack right into him. Because of course, you could embarrass yourself more today.

“Those for me?” Lee asked as he grabbed the organized stacks from your hands.

“Yep, Sheriff. All sorted for ya.”

“Good, right on time. I was just about to head out to the diner for lunch. Grab your coat, it’s gettin’ windy outside. Would hate for that little dress of yours to fly up on ya.”

Although he wouldn’t mind seeing you get flustered in front of him again, he actually would hate anyone, aside from himself, getting to see up your dress.

You stared at him dumbly, unsure of what he meant. Certainly not that you’d be going with him to the diner. He hadn’t asked you to lunch, he didn’t mention anything of the sort, you were sure of it. Your head was a mess but you would have remembered him asking you to join him for lunch, that was for sure. He had walked back into his office with the files and set them on his desk. As he came back to where you were stood, noticing you hadn’t moved, he raised an eyebrow at you and huffed,

“Well come on, let’s get goin’, Sugar.”

“To the diner?” You asked, confusion written clearly on your face, “Together?”

“Beth mentioned you were having a rough day, figured I’d take you to lunch. Show you how thankful I am for your help around here. And we might be here late tonight, you and me. A lot of reports to get done. So we should make sure to eat somethin’ while we have the time,”

That made sense. You were now mentally scolding yourself for thinking he meant anything else by it. An innocent outing for lunch, that was all. You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, though. The idea that maybe he was taking you out on a lunch date in the middle of a workday was obviously ridiculous, but it had excited you nonetheless. So while you thought it was really considerate of him, but definitely didn’t want to be taken out of pity.

“Thank you, Lee but you don’t have to do that,” you tried to decline.

“I’m more than happy to, sweetheart,” He stood expectantly, waiting for you to grab your coat.

Instead of arguing, you simply nodded as a shy smile found its way to your face.

“Okay,” you murmured.

You went to grab your jacket, pulling on the knee-length coat before following Lee out of the station and towards the sheriff’s cruiser.

He pulled the passenger door open for you and your heart felt as though it’d jump out of your chest as he helped you in, fingers grazing your own. Again his calloused hand felt so right on your soft skin and you couldn’t help but imagine how his hands would feel on the rest of your body. You quickly pushed the thought out of your head and mentally reprimanded yourself. Of course, no one knew what you were thinking, but that didn’t make it okay. And not only that, but the thought hurt. Knowing that it was something you’d never be able to actually experience, you were only hurting yourself to allow these delusional thoughts to continue.

That didn’t stop them from coming, though, as Lee leaned in to buckle your seatbelt himself. He was so close, closer than he’d ever been before. You couldn’t help your staring as his face was right in front of you. As if it was possible, he was even more attractive up close. You wanted to touch him, to feel him on you just as you felt his warm breath as he leaned in and invaded all of your senses. God, he smelled so good. All you wanted to do was lean in and - no, no. You had to stop these thoughts, but he certainly was not making it easy for you.

He buckled you in and then closed the door, walking around to the driver’s side and getting in. Though the radio started playing softly as Lee started the car, it was still too quiet and you couldn’t hear anything aside from your breathing and the beating of your heart in your ears.

“You used to work at the diner, didn’t you, y/n?” Lee’s question pulled your attention away from your obsessive, quite erratic thoughts that were currently eating at you. The way your name sounded on his tongue filled you again with warmth. You loved his voice and you loved the way he said your name. God, you really were hopeless.

“I did, I left just before I started at the station,” you confirmed with a nod.

“Hm, why’d you leave?” He asked. You certainly couldn’t tell him that you had really only applied for the job at the station because of him, so you replied, maybe a little too quickly, “Money.”

That’s the same answer you gave to everyone who asked the same question just six months earlier when you first left the diner. It was an easy answer and one that no one could really argue with. It wasn’t entirely a lie, either. The pay you got at the diner, even with tips, was nothing compared to what you were making at the station.

In all honesty, though, you’ve had this stupid little crush on the sheriff since you moved to town last year. You really only ever saw him when he was patrolling or on his way out of the diner. You’d always just miss him, but your coworkers always said how lucky you were for that. They would tell you the town rumors and gossip surrounding the sheriff, and it wasn’t as if you didn’t believe them, it was more so that you just couldn’t get him out of your mind regardless. So when Beth and the girls were talking about the open position down at the station one day, you knew you’d apply right away.

And here you were six months later, even more wanting of the man sitting beside you. It’s not like you hadn’t spent time with the sheriff before, but it just seemed that after each interaction the feelings you had for him got more and more intense.

“Well, I’m glad you did. Best assistant I’ve ever had, darlin’. Don’t know how I got half my work done without you before,” His praise made your heart soar and you found yourself looking away, hoping to not embarrass yourself further in front of him by your reaction.

“Thank you, Sheriff. That means a lot,” Lee just grinned at you, reveling in the way he was able to affect you.

It wasn’t far from the station, so the cruiser pulled into the diner’s parking lot after the short-lived drive and Lee was quick to get out and open your door for you. As you walked towards the entrance, you felt Lee’s hand on the small of your back ushering you inside the familiar space.

“Hiya there, Sheriff! Y/N! How’ve you been, honey? We’ve missed you around here,” Pearl was always the sweetest, she had trained you when you started at the diner last year and was always looking out for you. Lee nodded his head in greeting as Pearl approached the two of you.

“Hi, Pearl,” She gave you a hug that you happily returned and then led you and Lee to a booth toward the back corner of the diner, though still right in front of the huge window that took up the length of the wall lined with booths. You slid into the right side of the booth and Lee took a seat on the left side. Sunlight was shining on him from the window, making his eyes sparkle brightly. He looked so beautiful, you almost couldn’t look away. You certainly didn’t want to. But as Pearl spoke, you forced your gaze from him and gave your attention to the woman in front of you.

“Let me guess, one 7-up, one Pepsi, one grilled cheese with fries, and one burger with fries. Is that right?” Pearl asked with a knowing smile, looking back and forth between the two of you. She was good at her job. She remembered everyone’s usual once she served them a couple of times and you were slightly surprised that she remembered your order despite you not having been to the diner more than twice since you had quit.

“Sounds right to me, you Sugar?” Lee asked, his gaze made only more striking in the light of the sun.

“Yep, on the money as always, Pearl,” You confirmed with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing, sugar,” she emphasized the pet name and quirked her eyebrow at you with a little smirk playing on her lips.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks and the food won’t be too long either.”

As she walked to the back, you returned your attention to Lee, who had just begun to slide out of the booth. Before you could ask him where he was going, he was already sliding right in beside you.

“Sun’s shinin’ right in my eyes. You don’t mind me next to you, do you, sweetheart?”

“Not at all, Lee. But we could always move to a table if you’d like,”

“I prefer the booth, it gives us a little more privacy, dontcha think?”

You weren’t sure why you would be worried about having privacy in the diner that was nearly empty as it was. You decided that maybe with the way people are always talking about the sheriff, he just preferred to keep as low a profile as possible. And you really didn’t mind him sitting so close, either. It was nice, dare you say, comforting even.

“Sure,” you agreed. With that, he slid just the smallest bit closer and you tried your best to contain your excitement and to reel your thoughts back in.

Just as she promised, Pearl was back with the drinks and not even five minutes later came the food. As you both ate, the conversation came easy. You spoke about nothing and everything and if you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought that Lee was flirting with you every now and again. It really would have been a perfect first date, but of course, that’s not what this is, you told yourself. So as you neared the end of your meal, you started talking about the fall festival that was coming up soon, allowing the conversation to find its way back to work. The sheriff would be there patrolling and of course, you two would be the ones getting all the paperwork for it set up later in the coming week. As you listened to the sheriff talk, a loud honk sounded from outside, interrupting him and making you wince ever so slightly. Lee definitely noticed, though.

“Lots of work to get done tonight,” he started, “you feelin’ any better?”

“I’m feeling fine, just a bit of a headache is all. It’s sure to fade away soon,” you reassured. “But how long do you think we’ll be at the station tonight, Sheriff?”

“Well, that depends on how fast we work.” He thought for a moment and his demeanor changed just slightly. It was a Friday, what if you had plans tonight? Plans with someone who wasn’t him. He hated the thought, but he needed to know. “Why, you got a date or something?” He asked gruffly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the question. Since moving to town, you’d been asked out once or twice but you were never interested in going out with anyone. Anyone aside from the sheriff, that is.

“No, no date. I was planning on going to the pharmacy on my way home, but I could always stop by there tomorrow if we aren’t done before they’re closed.” He seemed to relax at your response and if you didn’t know any better you’d swear he looked almost relieved to know you didn’t have anyone taking you out.

It looked as if he was about to say something, but just as he opened his mouth to start, Pearl walked up holding two small plates, a slice of pie on each.

“Pie for the two of you, on the house of course. Just to show our appreciation for how hard you’ve been working for the town,” She winked at you and as she moved to grab your lunch plates, you thanked her for the pie. She smiled and moved swiftly to the back to drop off the dishes then up to the front to grab the check.

You and Lee talked for a little while longer over the pie and you soon found yourself leaning into him without even realizing it. His presence, although intimidating, you found just as equally pleasing. You could stay there next to him all day and you wouldn’t mind at all.

Lee was trying his best to resist the urge to pull you into his side the entire time he was sitting next to you. So when he noticed you leaning into him more and more, he couldn’t help the smile that he wore. He was so used to you always being flustered around him, he loved that you seemed so relaxed with him after one lunch together. And it just felt right, you being so close. He liked talking to you, especially about things other than work, and he loved to listen to you as well. Seeing your eyes sparkle when he looked at you, or the way you laughed shyly at him flirting with you, he just loved being around you. As you spoke, he couldn’t help but wish he had done this sooner. He was utterly content and could have sat there with you all day and wouldn’t have minded at all.

As you finished off most of the pie on your plates, Pearl returned with the check. You reached into your coat pocket where you always kept some money, just in case. As you went to put some down on the table, Lee caught your hand.

“What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” Lee questioned incredulously.

“Paying for my lunch?” you replied meekly, staring up at him.

“You don’t worry about paying for anything. I took you here, it’s on me, darlin’,”

Just as you were about to protest, Lee sent you a look that had you shutting your mouth before you could say a word. It both thrilled and terrified you. That was just another thing about Lee that attracted you, just something else about him that you couldn’t help but love. He was always so sweet to you, but you also knew he could be anything but when he needed to be. You loved his authority. He had this power over you and you knew you would do anything he ever asked you to and you’d do it with a smile.

Lee set down a 10 dollar bill, more than enough to cover your food and a tip, and went to stand, taking your hand in his as he did. He helped you out of the booth and as you walked to the doors, sent your goodbyes and thank yous to Pearl on the way out.

He once again helped you into the cruiser but didn’t bother with the seat belt this time. As he walked around to get to the driver’s side, you slid yourself over to be closer to him. As soon as he got in the car, he noticed your proximity and smirked ever so slightly, starting the car and putting his arm on the back of the seat as he reversed out of the parking lot and headed back to the station.

Once the two of you were back inside and at Lee’s office, he gave you a stack of paper forms that all needed to be filled out.

“Figured we could get started on some of the paperwork now, don’t want to keep you here doin’ work all night again.”

“Sure thing, Sheriff. I’ll get started right away.”

Just as you walked out of his office and went to sit at your desk, Beth came over.

“Hey, Y/N. Deputy Roberts just called in. He said he’s been trying to get a hold of Lee but hasn’t been able to. He needs him down at a scene right away. Let him know, would you?”

“Oh, of course!” You set the forms down and turned right back around into the sheriff’s office.

“Done already? Well, that was mighty fast, there, sugar.” Lee joked with a smile.

“Sorry, Sheriff. It’s actually Deputy Roberts. Says he’s been trying to get a hold of you needs you down on a scene.”

“It’s that damn radio again, doesn’t pick up any signal half the time. Alright, well I’ll be back later then. Try to get as many of those forms filled as you can, there’s more right here when you finish the ones I just gave you.”

“Of course, Sheriff. Be safe.”

“Always am, Sugar.” And he left with a wink.

After your lunch with Lee, you realized you were actually feeling a lot better. Returning to your desk, you got straight to work. There was plenty to do. It wasn’t until about two hours later that you heard from Lee. He called his own office, knowing the call would be sent to your desk.

“Looks like it’ll be a while before I get back to the station, sweetheart. I need you to go into my office and get started on filing the paperwork from the month-end reports. You can use my desk, I know how uncomfortable your chair can get after a while. I should be back around 5. Just try to get as much done as you can.”

“Absolutely, Sheriff. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Bye, darlin’.”

Darlin’. The pet name made your heart flutter and that familiar warmth returned to your stomach. You got up and made your way into the sheriff’s office, all of the completed forms in hand. Taking a seat at his desk, you took a moment to take in your surroundings. You’d been in his office before but never sat at his desk. It was a lot bigger than yours and his chair was much more comfortable. There was a candy dish on the corner and the trash bin under his desk was littered with scrap paper, broken paper clips, some old ripped-up files, and candy wrappers. On his desk, papers and files were spread all over and you got started on clearing them up and organized them once again.

After a couple of hours spent filling out reports and getting them filed properly, your headache was back with full force. On the bright side, you were almost done, and luckily that meant you wouldn’t have to stay late at all tonight. Seeing as there were only a small handful of reports and forms left, you decided it’d be okay to take just a little break. Leaning your head back on the chair, you shut your eyes and before you realized you were, you quickly fell asleep.

It wasn’t too much later that the Sheriff returned, finding you at his desk, legs crossed, elbows set on the arms of the chair, head resting against the back of it, fast asleep. You looked so precious he almost didn’t have the heart to wake you. As he got near, his eyes fell to your exposed cleavage as your chest moved up and down with your breathing. The sight along with the soft sighs leaving your lips had already caught his attention, but it was hearing his own name falling from your lips ever so quietly and seeing your legs squeezing together beneath your dress that sent him into action.

Sitting on the edge of the desk in front of you, he put his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down gently to try and wake you up without startling you. He gently spoke your name and that seemed to rouse you. Looking up at him, eyes widening as you suddenly came back to reality. You stared at him as the scene that was just playing out in your dreams, the ones starring him, ran through your head. You were silently praying that you hadn’t made any sound in your sleep, something you’ve been known to do in the past. Your whole body was alight and the way Lee was looking at you wasn’t doing anything to calm you down. He looked like he wanted to devour you, and the thought of that had your breath catching in your throat.

“Fallin’ asleep on the job now are we, darlin’?” He asked low and smoothly.

“I’m sorry, Lee. I don’t know what I was doing. My head was hurting and I was almost finished with everything so I thought I’d just shut my eyes for a minute, I guess I fell asleep.” You rambled timidly.

Lee just nodded at you, his eyes still locked on you and hungry. And now that you really looked, caught in his stare, they were much darker than normal.

“Headache’s back, huh? You know darlin’,” he leaned into you even more as he continued on, “I hear that orgasms relieve headaches, and I think I can help you with that.” His voice was penetrating as he spoke, eyes never leaving your own as his hands trailed down your arms and settled on your crossed legs, fingers grazing down along your thighs.

You couldn’t help the pathetic sound that passed your lips at his words and touch. You were burning up and for a moment you thought that you might still be dreaming because there was no way the sheriff just said what you thought he said. That was until his hands found their way under the hem of your dress. You realized that the touch was too real and felt too good for it to be another dream. At that, your hands shot down to his, stopping them from crawling any higher. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest and you could feel yourself becoming more and more aroused.

“Sheriff?” You breathed. “What are you doing?”

“Just wanna help you is all, darlin’,” His voice was comforting then and as he gently uncrossed your legs, you allowed him to start moving his hands up your thighs again. You leaned up into him and searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, but all you found was longing and desire. So caught up in his gaze, you didn’t even realize how far up his hands had gotten until you felt him press against your clit through the fabric of your underwear, drawing a light circle around the bundle of nerves as his eyes moved from yours to your lips.

“Lee-!” You gasped, eyes wide, as he spread your thighs apart further and his touch went down to explore your still covered core. Your one hand went to his shoulder as you grasped him and your other shot to his hand that continued to touch you. You could feel your wetness and you knew he could too as he rubbed along your panties. His gentle touch sent a shockwave of pleasure through you. Before you could get lost in the feeling, though, your eyes shot to the window right across from the two of you that looked out on the station as people passed by. It was a little past 5 and everyone would be starting to head home, of course having to pass the sheriff’s office to get to the entrance and exit of the building. His gaze followed yours and he chuckled, then turned back to face you.

“Oh Sweetheart, don’t you worry,” He spoke as he leaned in closer to you, forehead resting against yours then turning his head to whisper in your ear, “How ‘bout,” he started, breathing heavy against you, “if I twist your panties to the side….and just slip two of my fingers in, hmm? They wouldn’t even notice.” He moved to place a soft kiss on your cheek, and you could feel him smiling against your skin as you let out a shaky breath. His lips then found their way to your own. He kissed you so passionately and tenderly and you’ve never experienced a kiss like that before. It was new and it was loving and it made you feel wanted. When you finally pulled away from one another, both of you nearly gasping for air, he gazed into your eyes as he moved his fingers to do just what he said, studying your face carefully.

Your mouth fell open, letting out a soft moan as he pushed his two fingers into you. You were whimpering pathetically as he started to slowly, expertly move his finger in and out of your tight hole, causing you to arch back from the chair as you gasped at the fast growing pleasure he was bringing you. Lee leaned back in to place another soft kiss against your lips, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as he did. He trailed kisses down along your neck, then onto your chest as he made his way to your breasts, nipping and sucking lightly as he went, fingers never stopping their ministrations. You could feel yourself getting closer, your abdomen tightening as your walls clenched his fingers.

“I can feel you squeezing me, darlin’. You gonna be my good girl and come for me, sweetheart?” he asked as he nuzzled his nose against your throat, placing kisses wherever his lips could reach.

“Yes, Sheriff, please. God, please! I’m so close, Lee, please,” you whined desperately though you really weren’t sure what you were pleading for. You couldn’t think straight as he brought you closer and closer to your release.

Lee knew what you needed, though, even if you didn’t. His other hand found your clit and he began to rub circles over it with his thumb, adding to the expounding pressure building in your core until finally, your orgasm overtook you and you came with a cry, his name falling from your lips over and over. You fell back into the chair, taking Lee with you. You grabbed his face and pulled him into a bruising kiss. Pulling back to look at him, you were breathless and Lee looked as if he was on top of the world as you wrapped your arms around him trying to get him as close as possible, but the slightly awkward position you were both still in didn’t bring him nearly close enough for your liking. Looking past him for a moment, you realized then that the lights of the station were all off and there was no one in sight.

“Head still hurting you, darlin’?” Lee asked with a smug smirk playing on his lips. You shook your head.

“‘S’all gone, now, Lee. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt better.”

A dopey smile found its way to your face as Lee pulled you up and out of his chair, only to sit himself down and place you on his lap, wrapping his arms around you as he did. Now that he had you, he didn’t plan on ever letting you go.

“Good,” he smiled leaning in to kiss you softly, “How’s about you sit here and keep me company while I finish up the last of these reports and then I’ll take you home.”

“Sounds good to me, Sheriff,” that same smile still plastered on your blissed out face, making Lee chuckle as you leaned against his chest, head resting on his shoulder.

It didn’t take any time at all for Lee to finish up the reports. Soon enough you were getting up from the desk, grabbing your things and turning out the lights as Lee led you out of the station, making sure to lock up behind him, and to his cruiser. Just as he did before, Lee helped you in then made his way to the driver’s side. As he got in, you sat as close to him as you could and he pulled you even further into his side, wrapping his arm around you as he drove out of the lot.

You leaned your head up and spoke softly in his ear,

“Thank you for your help, Lee… ya know, I’d really like to return the favor,” you let your hand run up and down his thigh and slowly worked your way toward the rather prominent bulge growing in his pants. Lee hissed as your hand grazed him and had to fight against the urge to pull over and take you right then and there.

“I’d really like that too, darlin’, but -fuck, wanna get you in my bed first,” he reached for your wandering hand and intertwined his fingers with yours as he drove one handed,

“Gonna treat you right, real nice, just the way a sweet thing like you deserves. And I know you’re gonna do the same for me. You’re mine now, sweetheart,” he spoke between the kisses he was leaving on you as you gazed at him adoringly,

“And I’m yours. We got all the time in the world, me and you, darlin’. No need to rush.”

You felt all warm and fuzzy inside at his words and you hadn’t felt this happy in a long, long time, maybe even ever. It was all thanks to Lee. After months of longing, you were finally his and he was finally yours. Now that you had him, you didn’t want to ever let him go.

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker #lee bodecker fluff #lee bodecker fanfiction #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x female reader

[elvenbeard]

Call

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic Summary: V finally opens up about his newest post-Mikoshi symptoms weighing him down. Kerry suggests a "bring-your-merc-to-work"-day to distract them both from the doom and gloom and the anxiety about an outstanding phone call. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 6/?, 6790 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V, mentions of drug use, smoking, body dysphoria) - notes at the end!

>> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

Kerry nearly dropped his guitar at the faint sound of V’s ringtone upstairs. At first, he hadn’t even fully registered it as the phone, himself on the sofa downstairs as he strummed away, trying to figure out a good bridge for a song that had been giving him trouble. He’d had this guitar, an old-fashioned acoustic one, since the early 2000s, and he only just caught himself from tossing it as he jumped to his feet. Nibbles perked up, ears folding back and eyes wide as he stormed past her towards the stairs, taking two steps at once. By the time he reached the upper floor, the phone had gone silent already. V sat at the edge of their bed, their eyes met. V was startled for a moment, pupils glowing golden from accepting the holocall. Kerry froze. He took a few deep breaths in a futile attempt to calm his racing heart somehow, hand clinging to the stair-rail still. But V’s posture was surprisingly relaxed, and Kerry’s tension as well dissolved when he began to speak.

“Hey, River,” V said, smiling.

“Fuck…” Kerry exhaled, shoulders dropping. Then he slowly trotted over to sit on the bed beside V.

“Yeah, no, I’d been meanin’ to call you back,” V continued, “No, I’m alright just… Been a couple of crazy busy days. I’ll tell you the details next time we meet in person.”

Kerry put his hand on V’s thigh and listened to the conversation quietly in thought. The sandstorm had almost passed by now, but it was getting dark outside – well, dark for Night City standards at least. They’d both dozed off earlier after their shower quickie, but Kerry was woken up again soon after by a nightmare he thankfully didn’t remember. Glad to not have stirred V as well he had then decided to let him sleep and snuck downstairs. Still, V looked awfully tired, dark circles under his eyes just not fading at all anymore. He soon wouldn’t even need his beloved smudged eyeliner…

“Sure yes, I’ll do,” V said to River on the holo, then turned to look at Kerry with a gentle smile, “River says hi.”

“Hi back at him. And at Joss and the kids,” Kerry nodded, and V delivered the greetings promptly.

“Okay,” he then said, “Yes, take care, too. See ya!”

The call ended and V sighed, tossing his phone back on the nightstand, and in the same movement grabbed his pill bottles. One with the painkillers prescribed by the hospital, one from Vik to help alleviate his post-relic symptoms.

“Forgot to put the fuckin’ thing on mute,” V muttered struggling to open the bottles with one hand. Kerry gently took the pill bottles without a word, opened them, and handed V one pill each. He swallowed them both at once before taking the bottles again from Kerry to set them back down.

“Sleep well at least?” Kerry made sure.

“Sorta,” V groaned hoarsely, stretching very slowly and carefully, “My head is killing me. Can barely move either. But I’m a little less tired than before at least.”

“Small mercies,” Kerry just said, gently rubbing V’s back, “Do you… wanna rest some more? Or are you hungry? I could go for a bite actually, order somethin’ real quick. Or… I think maybe there’s still pizza in the freezer, too…”

V looked away, gaze drifting out of the window and across the dust-covered cityscape.

“I’m not really hungry, no,” he said after a couple of moments.

“Doubt that sorry excuse for a breakfast was so filling…” Kerry frowned.

“No, I’m just… ah, I dunno.”

He sat slightly slumped forward, kind of cute with his fresh-out-of-bed hair, naked apart from their towel and blanket loosely wrapped around his hips still… but it was pretty obvious that something was bothering him.

“Talk to me, V,” Kerry said calmly, his hand still on V’s back, expecting to be urged to launch their next investigation of the penthouse for Mr. B’s tech.

V slowly turned his head back to look at him.

“Even if it’s Mikoshi again?”

Kerry was surprised, not only about the topic, but at how carefully V asked… almost as if he feared to be rejected.

“Especially then,” Kerry said firmly.

True… it was always Mikoshi. Or at least V’s worries and troubles often boiled down to what had happened there. No wonder. Kerry knew the rough rundown of the night, and that it hurt V to talk about certain details, about what Alt had had to do him and Johnny in particular. Kerry never dared to ask for clarification on some specifics despite not quite understanding them, because he didn’t want to poke around in an open wound.

Ironically, Johnny and V had never even gotten along that well. It had been a constant back and forth, a love-hate relationship if Kerry had ever seen one. It hadn’t been much different between Johnny and Kerry himself, Johnny and everyone else, really... It’s just how he had been like, self-absorbed, confrontational sometimes purely out of spite and in ignorance of his own feelings (and fuck, if that wasn’t something Kerry could only understand too well by now). V and Kerry had talked about what Alt’s plan had entailed before he’d even decided to follow through with it, before there was even any mention of “we’ll storm Arasaka Tower in an improvised suicide mission”. At the time, due to their difficult relationship, V had been fully on board with getting Johnny out of his head, whatever it would take, still waiting for an offer from the Arasakas themselves.

Despite Silverhand’s asshole behavior though, all his faults… he’d left a lasting impact on both their lives. It had taken Kerry half a century to mourn and get over his loss for a reason, but despite their decades-long friendship, he and Johnny had never been as close as what V and Johnny had developed over the course of just a few months. V wouldn’t admit it, but he missed the annoying voice of unreason in his head a lot. His words when Kerry found him on Corpo Plaza that night still echoed through Kerry’s head, full of fear and despair and regret…

“He’s gone… and it was all for nothing.”

In a way, even now still, Kerry somewhat envied Johnny for the connection he’d had with V, wished sometimes he could just read V’s mind and see what was going on in his head when V struggled to find the words, like so often lately... Thankfully, it wasn’t necessary this time around with V breaking the silence.

“Ever since I walked out of Mikoshi, I’ve felt this… disconnect. It’s hard to describe,” V began slowly.

Kerry hesitated.

“You said you… didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror sometimes? As in, literally?”

Anxiety began to slowly drive its claws into his chest.

“Yes and no…” V looked at his hands resting in his lap, “It’s like… logically I know this is my body. Has always been, and hell, haven’t I battled with it before... I guess what comes closest is some sort of body dysphoria… but also not?”

He paused, looked up at Kerry briefly, then out the window again.

“Like, before I figured out I was trans, it was similar, but not quite the same... Fuck, it’s like, somethin’ small is off, I just can’t put my finger on it. Like an itch on the inside of your skull you can impossibly scratch.”

Kerry didn’t know what to say that he hadn’t already said before; that doctors hadn’t told them yet either. All he felt he could do was sit here and listen. V continued.

“I’m wondering if this is what Alt meant when she said Soulkiller would… kill my soul. Leave me nothing but a cluster of memories and thoughts… A blurry copy of myself, trapped in a body so adjusted to Johnny already that it would’ve been smarter to just – …”

He choked on his words, and Kerry’s own throat grew tight at the sight of V slumping forward again and covering his face with his hands. He didn’t cry. In fact, it was dead silent between them, but that was almost worse. Kerry still had his hand on V’s back, gently caressing in circles.

“What can I do, V?” he asked hoarsely after a while, cause hell, if there was anything... V sighed and shrugged, but kept his face covered.

“I don’t know,” he then mumbled, “I’m no longer fighting the Relic, but my own body is fighting me now. I wonder if this is what it was like for Johnny. For him it got better over time but for me… it’s slowly gonna get worse.”

“What… is getting worse, exactly?” Kerry almost didn’t dare to ask. This was the most they’d spoken about V’s health in such detail in… forever, probably. Not surrounded by doctors flinging around medical terms, both of them relatively calm and not too overwhelmed by stress and emotion, in the safety of their home... if they truly weren’t secretly spied on by Blue-Eyes.

V slowly lowered his hands and sat up straight again.

“It’s like… I’m growing number to my own feelings, little by little,” he then said, staring out the window, the orange glow outside reflected in his hazel eyes like embers.

“Johnny described it once as this sort of delay... I’d, dunno, bump my toe somewhere, but he’d only feel the pain five seconds later. But what I’m feeling now is not quite that, even though it sometimes comes close. I’m not really hungry anymore, not how I used to be, unless I’m actually starving. I’m not as scared of physical dangers anymore, not how I used to be… It’s like someone dulled down my sense of self-preservation. I’m like an addict that needs a larger dose, a bigger kick, to be able to feel the effects of the drugs still… but make the drugs all the little things that make you human.”

Kerry pondered this for a couple of moments, let it sink in.

“And it’s like that… with everything?” he carefully asked. V shook his head briefly, flinching sightly, his healthy hand shooting up to the back of his hurting neck.

“Not with everything, no. Physical pain, for some reason,” he said with a smirk, “Cause I’m lucky like that. It’s also not affecting my feelings for you, they haven’t changed or dulled…”

He hesitated.

“But I’m scared shitless that if this… progresses, I will grow numb for you, too. For everyone and everything I care about… I’m scared that maybe it’s already begun, with what you said earlier that I… just went through with Mr. B’s plan without many second thoughts, without telling you. Not because he manipulated me, but because I’m becoming numb to the possible consequences of my actions...”

“V, no, that… yeah, I was mad at you earlier but, that’s not what I meant,” Kerry tried to relativize.

“No, no, it’s okay,” V said with a sad smile, “I’m glad you said it, because if you hadn’t... Maybe I’m just doing all this shit because it still makes me feel alive when I’m already dead inside. Resting and positive thinking alone don’t really do the trick when it comes to trying to feel something still.”

There was a long heavy pause.

“Ah, fuck…” V then just sighed, “I hate all of this so much.”

He rubbed his eyes and then leaned against Kerry’s shoulder, and Kerry held him close.

“I know… me too.”

They ended up ordering food after all that evening, something nice and spicy from their favorite Mexican restaurant, real high-quality, ‘ganic comfort food… But it was still a rather gloomy, quiet night beyond that.

By the time the sun began to rise the next morning, Kerry had already been lying awake for an hour or so and watched V in his sleep. At least when he slept, he seemed at peace still – it was enough that he had been living one nightmare after the other for the better part of six months now, since that first fateful heist.

When they sat in the kitchen together for breakfast over their first cups of coffee later, Kerry kept catching himself anxiously staring at V’s phone, ready for it to go off any moment again. He wasn’t even sure whether he wanted Blue-Eyes to call or not. He worried that whatever he’d promised V to save his life would turn out to be yet another dead end, be attached to countless strings – or maybe turn out to be a lie altogether. But if he didn’t call… he was scared that that would finally break V, having risked so much, wasted so much time for empty promises… Had himself be used again without any payoff whatsoever, led on by the dangling carrot on a stick called “miracle cure”, “more time with your loved ones”, “a chance at life as such” and all the other things he and Kerry both were so desperately hoping for.

Not only to distract himself from his depressing thought-spiral, but also in hopes of cheering V up at least a little bit, he made a suggestion.

“Since you’re basically on sick leave now, would ya wanna come to the studio with me later?” he asked.

Finally, V’s smile returned.

“Think Lee is gonna survive me showing up there unannounced?”

Kerry chuckled.

“He better gets used to it, ‘cause I’m not planning on bringing anyone else anytime soon,” he said.

“What’re you working on today?” V asked, drinking from his mug and setting it back down between them.

“Mostly fine-tuning some stuff with ‘Shivers’… the transition from the chorus to the second verse kinda sucks still. We gotta work something out.”

“So, they still wanna go with that as the first single?” V asked frowning, and Kerry sighed.

“Yeah… I mean, it’s a fuckin’ good song. It’s gonna be a hit for sure,” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic, “Still would’ve liked ‘Vision of your Memories’ better as the first release. But they say the title’s too long, it’s too calm, too different from what the fans are used from me. As if that’s not the point of the whole damn album…”

He made a throwaway gesture and then also downed the rest of his coffee.

“No point arguing, they’re gonna do what they’re gonna do anyway.”

“And Lee can’t put in a word for you?” V asked and Kerry couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, seriously,” V insisted, “He’s your fuckin’ manager, apparently, and yet…”

“… and yet, he only works for the label, still,” Kerry finished the thought, “Managers that actually fight on the side of the artists they sign are wishful thinkin’... But he’s still better than Kovachek.”

“Anyone would’ve been better than Kovachek,” V laughed dryly as they then got up from the counter to get dressed for the day.

V had been to the studio that belonged to MSM Records a handful of times before, usually just briefly stopping by with “real” coffee, between gigs that led him into the area anyway. The building sat right at the district border between Charter Hill and Japantown, only just part of the former, and not far away from Dark Matter. All in all, it was as well ridiculously close to the corporate apartments at Grant Avenue that V had grown up in. Both him and Kerry still waited for some old photo or video to surface in which they’d both been caught in at the same time, completely unaware of the other’s existence.

Kerry took the lead as they entered the building from the underground parking garage, through the security scanner, past the reception desk and towards the elevators. It wasn’t particularly busy this morning, the only person really that noted their existence was the perpetually smiling receptionist greeting them. Both the entrance hall as well as the floor they were headed to screamed generic corpo-chic. Clean, sleek, not quite as dark as Arasaka had been, but just as imposing. The floor on the level with the recording booths featured light carpet with a golden, geometric pattern, interrupted by the MSM logo every couple of yards. The tall, dark-grey walls were indirectly lit with embedded, golden neon stripes creating triangular shapes and showcased the label’s most successful album and single releases of recent years. In passing V spotted “Second Conflict” and both Kerry’s and Us Cracks’ versions of “User Friendly”. The hallway split after about 30 feet and Kerry turned left, headed towards the recording booth booked for him today. V followed closely.

“Urgh, could be that halfway through some marketing gonks show up with merch mockups,” Kerry grumbled and pulled out his phone, “Lee just updated my schedule.”

“Oh, so I can get an exclusive sneak peek of all the stuff I can buy with your name on it in a couple of weeks?”

“My name and my face even, if they get their will,” Kerry sighed, “Never been much a fan of slappin’ my mug on t-shirts.”

“’s a pretty mug though. Wouldn’t mind seeing it all around me all the time,” V tried to console him, fearing he would remain correct about the label people doing whatever they wanted anyway. Marketing liked to give you the illusion of being an active participant in the decision-making process while in the background the higher ups had long made all their choices.

Kerry threw him a brief smile as they entered the recording booth.

It was one of the smaller booths V had been to so far, used predominantly for recording vocals. There were bigger ones that fit entire bands, and a level below them were several for recording whole orchestras even, according to Kerry. The room was separated into two areas. There was the actual booth, behind soundproof glass, with sound-insulated walls, and all the technical equipment to actually record music. In the front area, which was almost three times the size of the booth, there was the mixer console, computers, and all the other tech needed to modify the raw sound, as well as a little lounge area with sofas, a coffee maker, and some shelves storing additional equipment and showcasing some more famous albums the label had produced.

On a big white office chair by the console sat Vicki, one of the producers V had met before, and he could feel some of Kerry’s tension drop. Vicki was around 60 years old and had worked with Kerry pretty much since the first day of her internship at MSM and all the way through her ascension in ranks to producer. So, there was at least someone here today that knew what she was doing, in Kerry’s words. Engaged in a conversation with her and seated on one of the two large beige leather sofas in the corner were two sound engineers that worked as Vicki’s assistants. V had met them before, but only in passing, so he didn’t know their names. They probably were somewhere between himself and Vicki in age.

Vicki’s pale green eyes lit up when Kerry entered the room, and she got up from her chair to give him a brief hug.

“Hi, Kerry, so glad you could make it, I know it’s early today, but I thought better get this done sooner rather than later, right?” she said, words like rapid-fire.

“If I had my way, we’d just fuckin’ leave ‘Shivers’ on the backburner for a bit until I figure out what I wanna do with it,” Kerry grumbled, “But you know how it is.”

Vicki stepped back and patted Kerry on the shoulder.

“I know, I know… Let’s make the best out of it, right?”

 Then she turned to V, flinging a long strand of her hair, dyed pitch-black, over her shoulder.

“V, right?” she asked, smiling brightly as she extended a hand with similarly long black nails.

“Vicki, nice to see you again,” V said and reciprocated her handshake.

“Dang it, Kerry, you gotta tell me sometime how you two met, such a gentleman! Do you have an older brother, or a sister maybe, V?” Vicki laughed, voice raspy and loud. She was quite the character, in her all-black leather gear with beige faux-fur collar and sparkly studs all over, but most people in Kerry’s world seemed to be. Unlike most of them though, Vicki also really knew what she was doing. As soon as she sat down behind the mixing console all the extravagant loudness faded and was replaced by cool professionalism and long-honed skill.

“Make yourself comfortable, I gotta feeling we’ll be here for a while today,” Vicki said gesturing towards the sofas before turning back to Kerry, “And you siddown and jack in so we can go through the parts that have been bothering you, alright?”

Both V and Kerry did what they were told, as Vicki truly would be the one holding the reigns here today. The two sound engineers got up and joined Vicki and Kerry by the mixing console and followed her instructions closely as she listened to the demo of the song with Kerry, pausing now and then when they got to a part that bothered him. V watched this all closely and with great interest. He’d learned to play the piano as a kid, mostly because his father wanted him to, but he was far from calling himself a musician. Still, he was fascinated by Kerry’s knowledge and passion for his craft, only understanding little of what he referred to (probably also given the fact that only he and Vicki and the engineers were able to hear the music while V wasn’t). Still, he was deeply impressed and… yeah, very proud, however weird that may have sounded spoken out loud. He was proud of Kerry being so damn good at making awesome music with a message and deeper meaning. V wouldn’t even know where to start, even if he wanted to.

“Okay, okay, okay, I think the problem here is not the melody as such,” Vicki said after about 10 minutes of intense revision, “I think we’re missing a beat or two… you kinda expect there to be something here that then never happens, listen again… Throws you off. Make sense?”

“Yeah… yeah it does,” Kerry nodded after a few seconds of pondering, “So, change the lyrics?”

“We could just drop the ‘gives you’, it’s an easy fix, no need to re-record, just edit it out.”

“Ah, I dunno,” Kerry was unimpressed by the suggestion, crossed his arms.

The discussion continued a little while longer, the two old musicians beginning to get lost in the details, each change they suggested leading to adjustments that then led to further disagreements from the other or new problems as a whole. V could only imagine how this would have gone down during Samurai times, with not two but five people with wildly different opinions clashing like this – Kerry and Johnny alone would have probably caused enough disagreements on their own. And yet, their success at the time spoke for itself – maybe a little bit of fighting over melody and rhythm was necessary to make a great song. Watching these two now go back and forth was a welcome distraction to V as well, seated on the sofa still, elbows resting on his thighs… but his phone clutched expectantly in his right hand.

“Okay, y’know what… Let’s just re-record this bit. We’re runnin’ round in circles,” Kerry then said with annoyance, jacked out of the mixing console and got up from his chair.

“The whole chorus?” Vicki asked frowning.

“Can also do the whole fuckin’ song if you wanna,” Kerry shrugged.

“Let’s start with the chorus, show me what you mean,” she said calmly, and Kerry was halfway through the door into the recording booth already, “Don’t you wanna do some warm-up first?”

“What, I’ve been warming up the past hour with you already,” Kerry teased and closed the door behind himself. Vicki made a disapproving noise and turned to look at V, pointing at Kerry with her thumb.

“Is he like that at home, too?”

V smiled and motioned that his lips were sealed when it came to their private life, and Vicki just nodded understandingly.

“Thought so,” she said and turned back around to switch on a few more screens of the truly massive mixing console in front of her. V got up from the sofa now to be able to watch Kerry still, as he was barely visible anymore in the booth from his seated position. Kerry had put on headphones, even though he wouldn’t even need to with his implants. He’d told V once he preferred them still for old times’ sake. He was pacing around the booth now in a small circle, stretching and, by the looks of it, doing some vocal exercises after all. V couldn’t hear him, but the sight alone made his heart beat faster, Kerry so in his element, so full of passion for something that was not in a way self-destructive. V was still lowkey mad that he didn’t have any clear memories of the Samurai reunion gig, but then again… maybe it was for the best.

After a couple of minutes of warmup Kerry positioned himself by his microphone. His bright eyes met with V’s across the pop filter and Kerry grinned. It was infectious. Then he turned to Vicki, saying something only she could hear via the intercom.

“Oh! Yeah, can do,” she said and turned around to V, “Wanna listen in, too?”

“Would I be allowed to?” V asked, still vividly remembering the hissy fit about signing NDAs Lee threw the first time he had stopped by here. But at the same time, he jumped at every opportunity to hear Kerry sing.

“Hey, I’m in charge here today,” Vicki grinned, “Francine, go and fetch him some headphones… Or do you have an audio implant?”

“’fraid not,” V shook his head, then one of the audio engineers jumped from her seat to look through the equipment shelf, handing V a pair of high-end studio headphones.

“I’ll sync you up in a moment,” she said.

“Thanks,” V replied and put them on. Kerry had begun pacing around the booth again while Vicki finalized some settings on her console.

“Yeah, yeah, they’ll surely approve of that,” she muttered in an amused tone. In the next second there was a slight crackling on V’s ears and finally he heard Kerry quietly singing, so up-close and clear that it gave him goosebumps... Then he realized he was improvising all sorts of profanities directed at the label bosses to the melody of “Archangel”. V couldn’t help but laugh, and Kerry spun around to look at V.

“Whaddaya think, this would make a good bonus track, right?”

“I love it,” V snickered.

“See! It’s a preem idea,” Kerry shrugged.

“C’mon now, let’s get started,” Vicki chuckled and gave the okay to start recording.

V kept himself in the background, but listening to Kerry sing like this was certainly a treat he hadn’t expected to ever get. He was very particular about who would be allowed to hear songs that were still in progress – not out of some artistic superiority complex, V was certain. Kerry wouldn’t admit it, but he was sure it was plain old self-consciousness about his works in progress. V respected his decision to keep everything a secret until it was polished enough, even though he would love to hear what he’d been working on so hard these past few months. But maybe him being here for this today was a first step in the right direction at least.

They recorded three or four new versions of the chorus, all with minor differences between them. Kerry and Vicki were in the middle of deciding which one to choose to move forward with. Then an incoming holocall tore V out of the so far slow and peaceful morning.

“Oh fuck, now?” he muttered at the sight of “Unknown Caller ID” in the corner of his interface. He took off is headphones and handed them back to Francine, only just overhearing Kerry ask, “What’s wrong?”

V pulled out his phone.

“I’ll be right back, important call!” he said and slipped into the hallway.

Reception was bad within the building, so V quickly walked to the nearby stairs that would lead him to the rooftop lounge. He’d been up there with Kerry a handful of times for a coffee or smoke break. His phone kept ringing, but V’s hurting legs weren’t really cooperating with him as he tried to climb up all the way to the roof in a timely manner. His chest burned just from breathing and his head was pounding despite the painkillers, the cascading echo of his steps in the mostly metal stairwell not helping. Halfway up he decided to just accept the call, hoping that no one would be waiting for him at the top or hear him on the levels below.

“Yes, hello?” he said, out of breath and full of anticipation and anxiety.

“Yes, hello, stranger,” was the reply that V had not expected at all. Neither the voice. He froze and couldn’t speak until all that still reverberated around him was his own heartbeat.

“Judy?” he then asked, in disbelief.

“Oh, so you do still know who I am, good!” she said, tone not entirely serious, “Hope I’m interrupting an important Fixer meeting? Client talks? A secret gig?”

Yup, definitely not Mr. Blue-Eyes.

“Why’s your caller ID blocked?” V decided to ask once he’d accepted that this would become an entirely different conversation than he had expected.

“’Cause I was worried you wouldn’t pick up otherwise. You didn’t the last couple of times.”

“Ugh… sorry, I… I’d been meaning to call you back, but…”

“It’s been a horribly busy couple o’ days, I know,” she then said slightly mockingly, and V couldn’t help but laugh at his own predictability.

The sun greeted him as he finally opened the door to the lounge, as did the wind and a breathtaking view across Charter Hill. Not quite as impressive as from the Dark Matter, but still a sight to behold. A couple of lounge chairs were arranged around a whirlpool and bar area currently closed off, and fake bamboo framed the whole space, giving it some privacy. The label occasionally threw wild parties here, or so Kerry had told him. V grabbed one of the smaller lounge chairs and moved it closer to the railing overlooking the city.

“Everything good? You sound a bit… winded,” Judy asked.

“Yeah, I…” V tried to come up with an excuse… but what was the point, really?

“I had a car accident, two days ago,” he decided to tell her.

“Fuck, V, shit… Really? Fuck… You okay?”

“All things considered, yeah. Was lucky for once,” he said and carefully sat down, “I’m a bit bruised up all over, but I’ve been a lot worse. Nothin’ I won’t recover from.”

Then he turned on his holo display to finally be able to see Judy. It appeared she was sitting on the roof of her van, tall red rock formations behind her. It was quite windy there, too, her hair blowing across her face as she kept trying to tuck it behind her ear without success.

“Hello again, properly now,” he said, and she grinned. She did seem so much happier, at ease, far away from Night City, a little more every time they spoke… regardless, he really missed their late-night in-person chats on the rooftop of her apartment building. Having her around and close by to knock some sense into him now and then would really make a difference right about now.

“Damn, buddy, you look like shit,” she said, still smiling, but not without the faintest frown appearing on her forehead.

“Thanks. Likewise.”

“Aww,” Judy chuckled, “Didn’t your parents teach you not to lie?”

“No,” V said nonchalantly, “They encouraged it, actually.”

She laughed.

“But for real, V, you look tired as hell. That can’t be just from the accident. What’s goin’ on?”

V wouldn’t even know where to begin. He’d been keeping Judy somewhat up to date, whenever she asked and actually wanted to know… but obviously also not on anything concerning Blue-Eyes and the Crystal Palace gig.

“Same old story, Judy,” he eventually settled on, “I’m dying and trying to figure out a way not to. Yet, at least.”

Judy’s expression grew slightly darker again, and she pulled her legs closer, shifting in her seat slightly.

“So, even Kerry’s doctors couldn’t do anything? What about Panam, I thought she was trying to think of something, too? Find someone that could help down in Arizona?”

“Last I heard from Panam was they’d have to go radio silent for a little while,” V said, “Trouble with the Raffen, again. Last time we spoke though there was nothing new on her end either.”

“Fuuuck…” Judy cursed under her breath.

Even though they were hundreds of miles apart, for a moment it felt like they were back together on that rooftop, the same wind tugging on their clothes and hair, the same sun shining down on them.

“Don’t get mad if I suggest something,” Judy then said quietly.

“I’m too tired to get mad,” V said without thinking, but really, it was true.

Judy hesitated a few more moments, looking over her shoulder, and V believed to see glistening water behind her, the Pacific probably. Then she turned back to look at him.

“What if… you’d just let it happen,” she said, voice quiet and slightly shaky, “And shit, I’m not saying this lightly but… You’re destroying yourself over this. I hate watching you run into dead ends over and over again, with no progress.”

“You mean, my time was borrowed anyway, and I should just accept it’s time to give it back?” V asked, trying his best not to sound too judgmental.

Judy said no word, just nodded. V looked to his feet, then back up at the sky. He took a deep breath.

“Not like it hasn’t crossed my mind yet,” he admitted then, “I have… one more option available right now, but if that also leads to nothing… I’m running out of time as is.”

“That’s what I mean,” Judy said, “You’re running and running… but maybe you just can’t outrun this. You’re just exhausting yourself. Chasing something that might not exist. You and me both know Night City’s great promises….”

“I know…” V said quietly.

“Why not spend the time you have left actually living,” she added after a moment, “Instead of running yourself into the ground even faster…”

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to the wind, and V was sure now to hear the crashing ocean waves on Judy’s end. She’d invited him to tag along a handful of times already, even if only for a while… but even though he sometimes wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Night City. Not yet at least… and not without Kerry.

“Easier said than done,” he said eventually, “You know me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Judy laughed weakly, “Hell-bent on getting your way, whatever it takes.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say whatever it takes…” V tried to reason but Judy shook her head vehemently.

“Nope, we’re not having this discussion again,” she laughed, then paused briefly once more, “But anyway, let’s drop the doom and gloom… I called not only to check in on you. Wanted to ask if you have time around the… 15th?”

“Around the 15th, or on the 15th?”

“Oh, shut up!” Judy grumbled, but was smiling again, “Block off the whole week if you gotta, Mr. Important. But… yeah, I’ll pass through NC. And I thought, if you have time, we could hang. Rooftop pizza and all included.”

“Really?” V smiled, “Yeah, of course, would be awesome!”

“Nova,” Judy said, “Then hang in there until I’m back at least to punch you in the shoulder one more time for being a gonk.”

“Wouldn’t wanna pass that up,” V said.

Judy nodded.

“Alright… V, I gotta go now if I wanna make it to my destination before sunset. But it was really good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Judy,” V said, “Next time in person. Lemme know when you actually get here.”

“I will keep you posted,” she said, “Take care, and – damn who am I tellin’ this – but still: be careful who you put your trust in.”

With a little wave and wink she ended the call.

V sighed, lowered his phone and his head and closed his eyes. Just letting it happen, let madness and death come take him… In the end it would boil down to exactly this most likely, no matter what he did to postpone it. But that was it… All he wanted was a little more time. Not even necessarily for his own sake at this point, but for Kerry… give him a little more time to adjust, gain some more stability back in his life so he would be able to better cope with inevitably losing him to this mess. And give himself the time to cope with the fact that he’d leave the love of his life behind at 28, all the unlikely friends he’d made, that he’d achieved so much and yet so little that truly mattered in the grand scheme of things…

As if he’d summoned him by thinking this the door to the stairwell swung open and Kerry appeared from the shadows.

“Heeeey… was it… him?” he asked slowly as he stepped closer, carefully almost.

“Judy,” V grinned, waving his phone briefly before sliding it into his back pocket.

“Ah, fuck,” Kerry sighed, but again seemed somewhat relieved. He stopped right next to V, leaned against the railing overlooking the city as well, and then pulled out his cigarettes.

“You gotta start calling people back, I can’t take these jump scares anymore.”

“I really gotta,” V smiled quietly and got up from his chair to hug Kerry from behind, resting his chin on his left shoulder to follow his gaze.

“What’d she want?” Kerry asked with a cigarette in his mouth, needing a couple of attempts to light it in the strong winds up here. V reached around to help shield the lighter’s tiny flame with his hands.

“Check in on me,” V said, “Aaand… she’s gonna come to Night City sometime next week.”

Kerry made a surprised humming noise, then wriggled to turn around, trying not to blow the smoke of his first drag into V’s face in his excitement, which proved to be rather difficult. V suppressed a cough and leaned back a little until Kerry had figured out how he wanted to position himself now.

“Sorry, babe,” he said sheepishly, lowering the cigarette, “But… you’re meanin’ I’ll finally get to meet the famous Judy? My man’s best friend that skipped town before I even knew he existed?”

“I’d hope so, yeah,” V smiled, but at the same time his heart was heavy still from the topic of their conversation.

“Preem,” Kerry said and took another drag, this time a bit more mindful of how closely they stood, leaning back against the rail now, “Somethin’ to look forward to, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” V nodded.

Kerry breathed out another plume of smoke, looking up to the sky, exposing his neck and shimmering implants to V… and V couldn’t resist and placed a quick kiss right where Kerry’s Adams apple would have been, eliciting a raspy chuckle from somewhere beneath the warm, smooth, black metal.

“Sneaky. Stealin’ kisses, too, now, huh?” Kerry asked and leaned in to capture V’s lips, his tongue tasting of bitter smoke and coffee, soft and raw at the same time. V clung to Kerry’s jacket for a moment, then let his hands slide underneath it and along his slim waist, annoyed by the barrier his t-shirt created between his skin and V’s fingertips.

“Been told I’m the best when it comes to stealin’ all manners of things,” he whispered against Kerry’s mouth.

“Can confirm,” Kerry chuckled, “Stole my heart, too. Didn’t even notice ‘til it was too late.”

He leaned in again, deepened their kiss, and V closed his eyes and tried to just enjoy the moment – live his life for once, instead of worrying about the future. The taste of Kerry’s lips, his hot breath, his hand on his waist trailing down to the small of his back pulling V snugly against him, warm and soft and strong, holding him as they were both embraced by the sun and wind… and of course, right then and there, V’s phone started ringing again.

Unknown Caller ID.

*****************

>> Next Chapter

*****************

Notes:

Thanks so much for reading! I know this was a long one (and I was half tempted to split it into two chapters where the POV changed, but ended up keeping it all in one because it's all about the uncertainty and aaahhh! So yeah XD)

Also, this really was an excuse to write some Kerry in the studio fluff, which I'd wanted to do for a long time :3 Also, there's so many drawing ideas in this chapter hhhhhh... The day needs more hours for all the stuff I wanna draw with them xD

Next time there's gonna be some more action again!

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#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk kerry #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x v #cyberpunk fanfic #kerry eurodyne x v fanfic #cp2077 #cp2077 fanfic #otp: to bad decisions #vincent ezaki #my writing #love is stored in the olive jar #judy alvarez #judy cameo was overdue - and it's not gonna be the last!!

[styleslistic]

How It Turned Out - Harry Styles Fic Part 3

In this installment: Harry turns up at Y/N’s concert, asks her a difficult question and they have their first fight... before they’ve even met!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

Taglist: @theekyliepage @sleutherclaw (just reply or send an ask to be added)

A week later. Y/N was back on tour, her Manchester show. The crowd is particularly rowdy before the show, you could hear it from backstage. Last time that happened it was because a celebrity was in the VIP box, so she could only assume this is the same case. She wondered idly who it might be, as she prepared to go on stage. She could check social media, obviously, it’d be plastered everywhere by now if there was someone famous. Or ask a member of the crew, they would know if there were any extra security measures put in place. 

But what the hell, she was in a good mood and didn’t need the stress of having another person to impress. 

The main part of the show went by in a blast. It was a great crowd.

So when she came off stage before the finale, her favourite bit because it was where she just went a bit crazy, she felt high as a kite.

Her assistant came and tapped her on the shoulder as she gulped down half a bottle of water. 

“Look at this,” she said, shoving her phone in Y/N’s face. On the screen was an Instagram story showing a very fuzzy picture of a man at what was clearly the VIP box of the venue they were currently at. 

“Who’s that?” Y/N asked. “It’s too blurry.” Her assistant tutted, took the phone back and tapped the screen a few times before putting it back in front of her. This time it showed a much clearer photo. It was Harry Styles, at her show. 

“Well shit! Can I have my phone a second?” Y/N asked, and her assistant nodded before fishing in the tote bag on her shoulder for it.

Y/N brought up her messages to Harry and typed as quickly as she could.

Y/N: Tell me why I’m just now finding out you’re at my show?

Harry: I didn’t wanna make a big thing of it! 

Y/N: That was a speedy reply, don’t tell me you were on your phone whilst I was playing!

Harry: I wasn’t I promise!

Y/N: Not sure I believe you...

Harry: Would it help my case or just make me seem really pathetic if I said I was checking my phone because I hoped you’d message?

Y/N: ...well played I suppose. Now put that phone away so I can go and play my encore with your full attention ;)

She tossed her phone to her assistant and picked her guitar back up, preempting the countdown that would come through her earpiece any second now.

It was difficult to feel like she wasn’t performing at least a little bit for Harry now that she knew he was here. Something about the competition the press had put them in with each other made her feel that she had a point to prove, even though from their conversations it seemed like he didn’t really enter into their supposed rivalry any more than she did. 

So maybe she sang a little louder and danced a little harder than usual, sue her. That said, she came off the stage after her final song bloody exhausted and plonked herself down in the nearest chair. Her assistant scrambled after her and asked her if she wanted a drink.

“Just tea tonight, thanks.” She’d usually have either a beer or a cup of tea, and it was a pretty reliable judge of her exhaustion levels which one she’d choose. Beer meant she’d stick around for a chat with the crew, or maybe with friends who were visiting, but tea meant she’d be headed back to the hotel ASAP. 

Really, though, she couldn’t stick around anyway tonight. They were headed back on the road in a matter of hours and she needed to get out of the crew’s hair and catch forty winks before she headed to the next venue. 

“Can I have my phone back,” she asked once the steaming mug had been planted next to her.

Waiting on the phone were two text notifications from Harry. The first clearly from earlier just before she’d gone back on stage.

Harry: Your wish is my demand, putting my phone in my pocket right now!

And the second:

Harry: Fucking phenomenal show, jesus. I can’t believe I’ve never seen you perform before

Y/N smiled to herself, before typing her reply. 

Y/N: Glad you liked it. Looks like it’s my turn to see you next!

I’m really sorry, I’d invite you backstage but we’re packing everything up for the next venue. We’re back on the road early tomorrow.

Harry: Hey don’t worry about it, like I said, I wanted to come to the show to see you perform, I wasn’t trying to pull any tricks to get backstage 

That said if you come to one of my shows without telling me so I can arrange for you to come backstage I will never forgive you.

Y/N: Still, I feel like we’re due to meet sooner or later, right? Seems silly that our paths won’t even cross at my show.

Harry: If I’m honest, if you hadn’t said that you were leaving early tomorrow, I was gonna suggest we met up for a coffee. But I guess fate had other plans...

You keep passing me by. I remember seeing you through a window once at a party. I was stood in the kitchen and you were in the garden. You were wearing this giant frilly shirt and I was kind of jealous of it.

Y/N: Ah yes, my pirate phase. I miss it haha. That’s not the only time we’ve been in the same place, though. There’ve been a couple of award shows and premieres. I think the first time I saw you was at that wedding, though.

Harry: Oh nooo, I was off my face at the reception that was so embarrassing haha.

Y/N: Hence why I didn’t introduce myself then. I was worried you wouldn’t have remembered me the next day. And plus we were practically wearing the same outfit, we needed to stay at least half a room apart in order to avoid any Tweedledum and Tweedledee accusations.

Harry: I hear those kinds of accusations are pretty hard to shake off

Y/N: Well, listen. Let’s make a pact. Next time we’re in the same place we make sure we talk to one another, even if we are dressed the same. 

Harry: Deal

Y/N: And let’s make it a good one when we do meet hey?

Her assistant called her, there were a couple of things she needed to take care of before leaving the venue. She clicked her phone off and shoved it in her pocket. Their admittedly nice chat would have to wait. 

She ended up getting out of the venue pretty late unfortunately for her sleep schedule, by which time she was dead on her feet. She threw herself into the car where her driver was waiting and let herself rest her head on the window for the short drive to her hotel room. Once there, she just about had the peace of mind to brush her teeth and plug her phone in. 

The next morning, once ushered into her spot on the tour bus, Y/N found yet another text from Harry

Harry: I was right by the way, I’ve totally had Wet Dream stuck in my head since I heard it. 

Y/N: You’re welcome. Or maybe I'm sorry. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.

Harry: It’s good, all your music is. 

Y/N: Well thanks :)

Harry: I’ve not stopped thinking about your show, honestly, you have such a stage presence. 

A have a confession I need to make though.

Y/N: Right? 

Harry: Shit, that sounded really ominous, it’s a good thing, or at least hope you’ll think so. I just wasn’t expecting that you’d be gone so early this morning, which is stupid because I know how tours work. I wanted to talk about this in person but I panicked and left it too late to message you before the show.

Y/N: I thought you said you didn’t tell me you’d be there so it wasn’t a big deal? It’s starting to feel like it was maybe a big deal after all now. What’s going on?

Harry: I’ve really gone about this all in the wrong way. If you’ve got a moment, can I call you?

Y/N: Are you alright? This is a very stressed message given that we’ve never met haha

Harry: Yeah I’m okay, I just... look please can I call you?

Y/N: Give me your number and I’ll call you in half an hour alright? Try not to keel over in the mean time.

Y/N was really fucking confused now. They’d had such a jolly little chat the night before, and now he was acting like they were in the middle of some crisis. She found herself tuning out of the briefing her tour manager was giving, wracking her brains for what could have Harry in such a state. She kept coming back to the fact that they hadn’t met. It made no sense. 

So, she cut off the meeting 10 minutes early, and retreated to the back room of the bus for some privacy knowing that she probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate until they’d talked.

She copied his number into the phone app and pressed Call. 

“Harry? It’s Y/N”, she said.

“Oh, hi! You’re early!”, he replied, surprised.

“You intrigued me, what can I say.”

“Ha, well I’m glad because I’m losing my mind over here,” he said with a nervous laugh.

“Okay what is going-”

“I didn’t just come to your concert because I wanted to see you live.”

“Okay...” She was getting more confused by the second.

“It’s- Someone I work with put the idea in my head and I couldn’t get it out of my head. So I had to come and see for myself if it would work. And the energy at your concert was so good, so similar to mine, that I just had to ask.”

“What? What is going on?” she said, still unsure where this was headed. “What are you asking me?”

“Will you open for me on tour?” he says hopefully. 

Y/N’s blood ran cold, this wasn’t what she’d expected at all. 

“What?”

“Open for me? Even just a couple of shows, I just think both of us performing for one crowd would be so cool. My fans already love you.” 

Y/N’s head fell into her hands. There goes any illusion that he saw her as an equal in the business. Shit. She took a deep breath. This was gonna be an awkward conversation. Because much as his question did sting. She didn’t even need to think about her answer.

“Harry, I’m not going to open for you on tour,” she says, and she can’t even tell if her tone of voice is cold, or kind or anywhere in between, let alone which of those emotions she wants him to hear. 

“Oh okay, um, I guess you probably have other commitments,” he said, sounding a little embarrassed.

“It’s not that, Harry,” she said with a sigh. “Do you know why your fans love me?” 

“Because you’re really talented and cool?” he said, a cautious attempt and lightening the mood.

“Well, yes,” she conceded. “But it’s also because they’re not just your fans. They’re my fans too, independently of liking you. Without wanting to sound rude, I’m doing fine without you, I don’t need to go back to being a support act, I did all that shit years ago. Now, I have my own support acts, my own tour. I’d be underselling myself if I went back to being a support act.” Silence on the other end of the line.

“Fuck, you’re right. I’m so sorry. I just, I thought it would be so cool and we’d put on such a great show but I wasn’t thinking,” he whispered finally.

“You’re right, it’s be a fantastic show, and it’d definitely be cool. But I think people already spend enough time saying I’m a budget version of you without me proving it to them.”

"Okay, yeah. No I understand. I'm sorry. Bye"

Y/N heard a click as he hung up. That was one of the weirdest phone calls she had ever had, what the fuck.

Part 4 is like half way written, I'm really riding out this burst of motivation. So tune in tomorrow for the next part!

My ask box is open for any questions about the series!

#harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #musician!y/n #my writing #how it turned out

[yellowcry]

The weight of responsibility

Abuela had always said that Isabela would be great as her successor. But she never told Isabela what she would be supposed to do

Cracked au

Abuela always told Isabela that she's going to be a great leader. As a child, she took this as a great compliment, imagining herself at her grandma's place, everyone would love her so much!

Growing up, Isabela started to realize that this was way deeper than just giving some advice to townspeople and being worshiped. But Granny kept saying that Isabela would be great at her place. So Isabela smiled, knowing how much of trust Abuela had put in her if she openly admitted her eldest granddaughter as her successor.

But... As much as Abuela was saying that she was going to make her a new matriarch, she never taught Isabela anything about it. The woman realized it only when Alma passed away, leaving her already grown-up nieta in charge. 

How did she have to lead? How does she plan another street? How was she supposed to control the economy in the village? Abuela taught her how to be perfect; she didn't say a word about how it was to be a leader. What should she do to solve every issue and make sure everything is under control?

The only skills Isabela had were to be pretty and distract everyone from problems; no one actually said how to deal with the part where she supports being the leader. Even with the fact that Isabela was naturally good at this, or maybe this was because of her perfectionism. She considered Abuela's work as something hard even before her grandma's death, but she never thought of how hard it actually is. The thought that she would have to carry responsibility for the whole village came after Abuela died at the first time. And by then, there was no one from whom she could demand an answer. And what was she supposed to do now? Yes, she technically could go to her parents for an advise.... But Isabela now was higher in this social ladder, she was the one to control everything. As much as she loved keeping things under control, it was never this large-scale. Even keeping her family inder control seemed to be impossible, not even mentioning all of the villagers.

She felt like everything was cracking around her. How did Abuela manage not to lose her head with this whole mess? Isabela was completely fed up with just trying to deal with Camilo and Ramona's constant arguments. Did people say that opposites attract each other? It definitely didn't work with them both. Ramona was neat, meticulous to every detail. Camilo was noisy and stuffy—a little bit crazy, just like Isabela wished to be. He couldn't keep things organized, making his wife annoyed by his childish actions. So she argued about where to put something, and Camilo, too stubborn for his own good, kept doing it as he wanted, just to get on her nerves.

They would probably be way happier with a divorce. But then it would've started some rumors in the village. And Isabela couldn't allow that. They had to be perfect in everyone's eyes. Those two just had to suck it up and solve their problems by themselves. Even if solving problems in this family usually meant to close their eyes and turn away. Becides, Isabela couldn't stand the idea of letting others escape unwanted marriage while still being stuck herself. Then there was Luisa, who just couldn't stop drinking. Isabela had lost count of how many times she caught Luisa sitting in the kitchen in the middle of the night, drinking herself into unconsciousness. At first, Isabela tried to take away the bottles, but Luisa was clenching those tightly as if they were glued to her palms. Vines couldn't help either; Luisa's strength would be enough to lift all the plants Isabela ever created at once.

Luisa's love for drinking was worrying, and when Isabela was worried, she tended to get angry. The only thing that saved them both from thousands hours of arguments was the fact that Luisa didn't seem to actually care most of the time. And it was so goddamn frustrating! 

Was it Isabela's fault? She had never seen Luisa drunk before Abuela passed away. Did it happen because she couldn't handle the responsibility of the new matriarch well?

Young Isabela wished for the day when she would be the leader, respected and trusted by everyone. Now she just wished not to be. But it wasn't about what she wanted. Isabela never wanted to marry Mariano either, but she still did. She had to, for the family's sake. And, honestly, pretending that she's happy in front of everyone was way easier than being in charge of the whole town. Even with Isabela's innate ability to lead, this job took a lot. She felt like she was trown on the middle of a battlefield, completely disoriented and being forced to run from one side to another until she learned how to behave properly, handling everything she needed. 

But even if Isabela somehow managed to hold a grip on the village, the situation at home was a bit different. The youngest generation might be listening to her, obeying most of the rules, because for them, Isabela was a serious authority, but her own wasn't so willing to play this game, not even mentioning the adults. (Why did she call them adults? Her whole generation was grown up) On the other hand, the whole family was able to stay with raised heads, and that was the most important thing. Their problems would be easily left in the Casita.

How did Abuela manage to hold it all together for so long? Isabela felt that her head would explode at any moment. She had so many details to memorize: the new development and planting plans, the lists of birthdays or mournings. It was up to Isabela to make sure her family was helping, that every part of those giant clocks that Abuela's set worked as intended.

Being the leader of the city was a big honor. And even bigger responsibility.

She'll be okay.

#encanto #ao3 author #fanfic #cracked au #encanto au #isabela madrigal #alma madrigal #luisa madrigal #camilo madrigal

[laughingsapphic-creates]

Inukag week, Day 2: Possession

Didn't quite make midnight on this one, but I had work. Hopefully I make tomorrow 😅

@inukag-week

~~~~~~

In My Head

"Kagura, let Kagome go! I'm your opponent right now!"

It had just seemed like a regular run-of-the-mill jewel hunt. Local demon, relatively harmless, suddenly goes haywire? Sounded like a sacred jewel shard causing problems, same as usual. And it has been a pretty standard fight, until Kagura showed up. Kagome had chased her down with sacred arrows while Inuyasha helped beat down the demon - a burrower, easily handled with reference to their fight with Kageromaru a while back - and followed once it was weak enough for Sango and Miroku to handle.

So yeah, standard fare. Until Kagura had grabbed Kagome and hauled her up onto her feather.

"Better hurry along, Inuyasha!" Kagura crowed, turning Kagome's face in her hand from her perch above the trees. "Naraku has such plans for your pretty little priestess."

"You give her back now!" He demanded, disliking how desperate he sounded.

"Inuyasha!"

Trying to avoid Kagura's notice, Kagome tossed something off the feather, and Inuyasha snatched it from the air as he leapt after them. The cool glass and faint rattle of its contents told him what he needed to know without taking his eyes off of the rapidly shrinking transport.

Inuyasha did his best to take chase, but as the feather rose into the sky, and the wind whipped their scent trail into nothing, Inuyasha slowed, trying to keep sight of the speck he thought was them until they vanished into the clouds.

He kept running in the direction they had disappeared in, a shout of frustration clawing its way from his throat.

"Inuyasha!"

Skidding to a halt, he turned to watch as Kilala landed on his left, with Sango, Shippo, and Miroku in tow.

"It was a trap. Kagura grabbed Kagome and flew off with her," he growled. "She used the cloud cover to hide before she could get too far, and I can't pick up their scent anymore."

"Great. Just perfect," Sango sighed fingers tightening in Kilala's fur. Miroku held up a tainted shards, frowning at it.

"We got the shard that Naraku planted on that demon, but lost Kagome in exchange. It was a distraction, but a costly one for him. He probably thinks he'll take it back easily when we go to rescue Kagome."

"But if Naraku wants the shard back," Shippo considered, "why did he make it so hard for Inuyasha to follow Kagura?"

Inuyasha looked down at the vial in his hand, gritting his teeth with another growl as his fingers clenched around the glass. With barely a thought, he lifted the little bottle to his mouth, pulling the cork out with his teeth and dumping their one remaining shard into his hand.

"Inuyasha! What do you think you're doing!?"

The half demon looked at Sango, the crystal point pinched between two claws.

"I've had what we'll call a scientific theory for a while, and now seems as good a time as any to test it," he stated, looking at the shard as he spoke. "Naraku can communicate with and control demons and humans through shards he's corrupted, right? Is it that wild to think that maybe Kagome could do the same for shards that she's purified?"

"Yes! That is wild! And crazy, and stupid!" Shippo decided, jumping to Miroku's shoulder to try and draw Inuyasha's attention more easily.

"And what do you suggest? Kagura's wind blew out any scent trail they might have left, and she got away fast enough that she was out of sight before you three even spotted me. She could've changed directions once they were out of sight, so we'd end up running even further away before we figure out where they've gone!"

"You shouldn't rely on the jewel's power like that. We've seen what it can do to other demons, you can't be so cavalier about this," Miroku insisted, clearly agreeing with Shippo.

"Would ya just listen? I ain't interested in the power right now! Kagome's spiritual power purified the jewel. Don't get me wrong, I know what it's still capable of. But if Kagome's spiritual power is in this shard, it could connect me to her so I can track her." Pulling the collar of his robe down, Inuyasha used a claw to cut slightly into the skin there. "Look, worst case scenario, it won't work and I'll take it right back out, I promise."

Sango paused, watching blood bead at the cut beneath Inuyasha's throat. He could see her considering as she met his eyes - it was definitely a risk, they both knew that. But if it worked, it might be a way that they could save Kohaku the next chance they got.

Another beat passed, and she placed a hand on Miroku's free shoulder.

"We'll try it, just for a minute or two. We don't know if Kagome is able to connect through the shards the way Naraku is, but if she can, it should only take a moment to establish a connection."

Inuyasha nodded, hesitating for only a moment before pressing the jewel shard into his open wound.

Immediately, he felt the low-level aches and scrapes from his altercation with Kagura and the other demon fade - skin knit back together, pains eased, and Inuyasha felt the skin beneath his throat close up around the jagged edges of the shard. Power coursed through him, and he could immediately understand why other demons got addicted to this. He could sense the darkness trying to take hold, but more than that, he felt the warmth and light that he'd come to associate with Kagome's reiki.

Clawed fingers still resting on the jewel at his collar, he reached out in his head, looking for the parts that felt the most like her.

Kagome? Come on, talk to me. Can you hear me?

There was a beat of silence, and he could feel the others looking at him.

"Alright, Inuyasha, I think it's time-"

Something reached back.

He shushed Miroku, trying to focus.

Kagome?

I-Inuyasha?

"I've got her," he announced

Kagome! Are you okay?

I'm fine, we're still flying. What are you doing in my head?

I used the jewel shard to connect with you. Listen, can you see any landmarks we can use to find you?

The jewel-? Inuyasha! That's not why I threw it to you and you know it!

Explanation later. I'll take it out after we find you, just tell me where you are!

An image flashed in his mind: the mountains to their right, already much closer but still distant, and with a dark, unnatural shadow on what should've been the sunny face. And if he really focused, he could feel a tug on his chest, pulling him towards the mountain.

You hang in there, Kagome. We'll be there soon.

Smirking softly to himself, Inuyasha looked up at the mountain peak Kagome had shown him.

"There! That mountain! They're getting close to Naraku's castle!"

Kilala transformed and they mounted up, taking to the skies.

Inuyasha scanned the clouds for any glimpse of Kagura's feather, but found himself distracted by the lightness in his head. Kagome's presence was somehow a one-to-one mix of mental fog and perfect clarity. He couldn't hear the thoughts she wasn't intentionally thinking at him, but he got some impressions - indignation and righteous fury (he wondered if what kagara had said to trigger that), but also a confidence that was almost smug. She was hundreds of feet in the air, with Kagura, on her way to Naraku's castle, and he could barely feel any fear from her. It was an afterthought, barely worthy of note.

He didn't know what being possessed by Naraku through a jewel shard felt like first hand, but according to Sango and Kagome, it was a dark, cloying sort of thing. Like your head was filled with miasma and rot and decay that made you willing to do anything for relief. Inuyasha yasha had quietly likened it to his faint memories of being a full demon when the Tessaiga broke for the first time. That constant stream of RIP/TEAR/ENDURE/SURVIVE/KILL that occasionally reared its head in his nightmares didn't sound too similar to their experiences, but it was the closest comparison he had.

Having Kagome in his head, meanwhile, felt like the polar opposite of that wild, cornered animal that he had become in demon form. Comfort instead of desperation, compassion instead of cruelty. It was hard to say if it was the spiritual power or just Kagome herself, but either way, it was probably the closest to enlightenment that Inuyasha would ever get.

This feels weird, right? Kagome asked, her voice light and sweet against his consciousness. Not bad, but definitely weird.

You're telling me, he agreed, wondering what sort of impressions she might've gotten from him, if any.

As if hearing the question out loud, her voice came again.

You need to relax. I can feel you stressing from here.

You're one to talk! Where the hell is your sense of self-preservation?! In case you missed it, you're being kidnapped and brought to Naraku!

You and the others aren't far behind, right? What's there to worry about?

That impression of confidence he felt before strengthened, pushing out that negligible sense of fear. He wasn't sure if she could feel the pride/wonder/satisfaction that he felt in response. He knew, after so much time together, that Kagome trusted him. That she believed he would and could come and clutch when she needed him. It was different, though, to feel it in his own head with the same surety as the phases of the moon or the cycle of seasons. Sun shines, grass grows, birds fly, and he and Kagome protect each other.

You're closing in on us; I can sense the jewel now, not just you. How do you want to do this?

"We're getting close," Inuyasha announced. "Stay low and stay quiet."

Is Kagura holding on to you?

No, I'm sitting behind her now. But she keeps glaring over her shoulder at me

They were getting quite close to the shadow in the mountainside, and Inuyasha could now make out the silhouette of the castle.

Inuyasha paused, refocusing on the clouds. As soon as the cloud cover passed for just a moment, his eyes were drawn right to Kagome's figure on the back end of the feather, a good ways above and a bit ahead of them.

"Sango," he hummed, voice soft but laced with a venomous determination. He nodded up at the shape floating overhead. "As soon as Kagome drops down, be ready to knock that witch out of the sky. I'll give Kagome some extra hang time, but try and catch us before we get too cozy with the ground, got it?"

Sango nodded, adjusting her weapon and letting Miroku and Shippo lean out of the way. Inuyasha brought his feet up, crouching on Kirara's hindquarters. Giving everyone a glance over, Inuyasha looked back up at the feather, catching Kagome looking at him.

As soon as she looks away from you again, fall back off the feather.

There was nearly a breath of hesitation before he felt the confirmation/understanding/trust in response, and he didn't even have time to enjoy the rush of warmth he felt in response before her voice in his head muttered here goes nothing.

He saw Kagura shift, and right on cue, Kagome quietly leaned back and slipped right off the tip of the feather.

Inuyasha leapt lightly from Kilala's back, angling himself to his descent aligned with Kagome's. He heard the indignant shriek Kagura gave as she was struck, and felt Kagome's disappointment that she hadn't seen it mirror his own.

When his arms came up around her, he was caught off guard again when she let off a wave of safety/security/affection/knewyou'dbehere while smiling up at him

"Hey you," she greeted, breathless and almost laughing.

"Hey yourself," he shot back, ignoring the fact that he was definitely red in the face and there was no way she'd missed it. He looked around for Kilala, who circled around to catch them once Sango had caught her hiraikotsu. Landing easily at the base of her tails, Inuyasha helped Kagome to sit before doing so himself.

"So, do we stay or do we go?" Sango asked, looking back at them while pulling the strap of her weapon over her shoulder. "I'm guessing we only have a few minutes before the saimyosho or another incarnation shows up. Do we go to them or let them come to us?

"Put me down for a tactical retreat. We spent all morning tracking that demon and didn't even have breakfast," Shippo whined, crawling down Miroku's back and into Kagome's lap. "This is probably just another fakey illusion castle with another fakey puppet Naraku. And if it's not, it'll still be there after we eat and rest."

"Regardless of whether it's real or not, we should take a step back and come up with a plan. Kagura wanted me at the castle, and said Naraku had plans for me. Even if it's just a puppet, no plan of his means anything good for us," Kagome pointed out. Looking back at Inuyasha, she offered a smile, pushing out reminders for food/rest/comfort toward him. Ears flattening, he sighed, crossing his arms.

"The edge of the forest. Away from any villages. If we're gonna get attacked, last thing we need is a bunch of humans caught in the crossfire."

Kagome's smile softened, and she leaned back against him. An hour or two to rest, and maybe play with this connection a little more before diving back into danger.

~~~~~~

Shippo, stop kicking the fourth wall, you're gonna break it.

If I wanted to get this posted tonight, I had to cut it off here. But Kagome being able to connect with people through purified jewel shards the way Naraku does tainted ones is something I've idly played with before, and I might touch on it again just for funsies.

#inuyasha #inukag #inukag week #inukag week day 2 #inukag week 2023 #tayto writes

[yru3xme]

Save My Heart ~ Izuku Midoriya x Reader

A/N - This is part 2 everyone. Actually there is probably not many people reading this fanfic but I will still write it cuz its fun🩷🩷

TW - Drinking, Kissing

IZUKU POV

Patrol has me weared out. I come home to see my german shepherd, Mighty, laying on her little tent i put up near the living room couch. She looked up to see me, and ran up to me. “Hey big girl, I missed you” I cooed. I adopted her when I was 19. I was in my “rebel” era and I wanted a dog and I thought that german shepherds were badass. I don’t know, don’t ask me, but I am glad that I picked her. She is a rescue dog and I train with her everyday. Of course, I dont make her lift, we play games that are fun for her and increase her strength in different ways. I walk up to my third floor to head to my home office and start to work on paper work while Mighty is laying on my lap.

It is now Saturday and the pro heroes are doing the hangout at my house. I do not really mind, I just hope they don’t cause too much of a ruckus. My neighbors are pretty grumpy so they will bang my door down just to say the music is too loud. Once I finished with preparing all the liquor bottles and set up the snacks, the first people to barge in were obviously Kirishima and Mina. Those two have been dating ever since their kissing situation that last party. Mighty, who is scared of crowds, ran upstairs knowing more people are going to come. More and more people come in every minute, and then the last pair I thought were going to come was Todoroki and his new girlfriend, Rina. They come up to me to say hi and I greet them as my guests. “You know Izuku, Mina asked me if any of my friends would like to participate in the next hangout and I ask my best friend, Y/N, if she would like to come and she was down to it. I hope you don’t mind.” Rina says. I was kind of taken back as a random stranger was going to be participating in a party full of pro heroes, which she could totally take advantage of. But, Rina is a very trustworthy person so, I will go with it. “Sure! Im okay with it.” Even though I was concerned, maybe this girl would be fun.

Some time passes by and Rina’s friend just came in, and when I tell you my jaw dropped, Kachann had to put it back to its place. She was wearing a beautiful blue dress with accessories that matched her skin tone, and she had glossy lips with with eyes that I could write pages and pages on.

Y/N POV

I look around to see a bunch of pro heroes in a room, all drunk, dancing to the music blasting on the speakers. I look around and see a familiar tall greenette, Mr. Deku himself. I smile at him as I caught staring and sent a little wave. He smirks back and starts to wave. I might be acting cool right now but… IM FUCKING FREAKING OUT OMGGG DID I JUST WAVE AT THE DEKU?! OMG AND HE WAVED BACK! HE NOTICED MY PRESENCE?! Im about to faint but no, I have to stay cool. I fix my dress and walk in the living room to see Rina and Pinky talking and Rina turns to look at me as I walk in the room. She motions me to come to her, so I do as I am told. “Y/N! This is Mina well you know her as Pinky but her name is Mina. Anyway, GURL DID YOU SEE DEKU YET? OMG MINA YOU KNOW SHE HAS THIS HUGEEEE CRUSH ON D-“ “UHM OKAYYY LETS STOP RIGHT THERE MINA ITWASVERYNICETOMEETYOUBUTMEANDRINAHAVESTUFFTHATWENEEDTODOWEWILLTALKTOYOULATEROKAYBYEE” I practically blurt out. I have never talked that fast in my life and never plan to do it again. “Rina! Are you crazy? She can just go up to Deku saying oh! You know that girl, Y/N, has a huge crush on you? And you know what will happen then?” “…what?” “HE WILL THINK IM SOME KIND OF CRAZY FAN WHO WANTS TO GET WITH HIM! I JUST ACTED COOL IN FRONT OF HIM PLEASE DO NOT EMBARRASS ME” Rina looks taken back from my screaming, but nods while saying “Im sorry, I shouldn’t have tried telling her that. Im just realllllyyyyy drunk right now so it kinda blurted out of me naturally.” “It’s alright, I get it. Now, can you tell me where the dirty martini’s are?” I ask. Oh how much I am gonna drink from that shit.

A few hours later, most of the people are in the ping pong room to play beer-pong. The only people in the living room who aren’t playing are Me, Froppy, Tenya, Uravity, Earphone Jack, and..Deku. Im sitting on the couch, bored. I should go up to Froppy and try to start a conversation. Who knows, maybe we can become friends.

IZUKU POV

I see her getting up from the couch and walking towards Asui, perhaps to start a conversation. I drink another sip from my beer, completely drunk. I stare at Y/N while she’s talking to Asui, can’t help but smirk. She is so beautiful, I have never seen a woman like her before. Her gorgeous H/C hair swaying in the direction she turns her head to, her blue dress that motions from side to side, her smile, her face, her eyes..oh those eyes. I could write pages and pages about them. The way they glisten when she is happy, the shine that is so bright, it could make me go blind. She is amazing. To get with a girl like her, you’ll need a lot of luck. I feel dizzy from all this beer and whiskey, so I walk to the back door and enter the backyard’s large garden.

THIRD PERSON

After an hour of drinking and partying, Y/N feels a little doozy. She feels as if she is about to pass out. “Hey Tsu, I need to go outside. Does this place have a backyard or something?” She asks. “Oh yeah, there is! There is a back door in the living room. It leads to Izuku’s backyard garden! He keeps a lot of gorgeous plants there, Im sure that is the best place in the house to go and chill.” She answers. Feeling drunk, Y/N tries her best to at least waddle to the backdoor. As she opens, a great, big beautiful garden fills her eyes. The beauty of the flowers and the greeness of the trees is enough to make your heart flutter. She slowly walks deeper into the garden to find not a tree, but a green headed male, sitting on a bench and watching the moon. He looks in the direction of Y/N, gives her a smile, and motions her to come sit next to him. She listens, and walks towards the bench and sits down next to him. “You know, this garden of yours is very beautiful. I could stare at it forever and never get bored.” Y/N says. She smiles as she watches the moon and the bright stars. Izuku looks at her, “Thank you. I love it as much as you do. I take care of it every morning before I go to work. Its more of a daily hobby I picked up.” He states, while still staring at her smiling, happy face. “Y/N, I have to say something.” He says almost like its going to be a confession. “Uh huh what is it?” She says, still staring at the moon. “Y/N, look at me.” She looks at him, confused on why he is so serious now. “Ever since you walked in that door, I have been laying eyes on you and its driving me crazy. You drive me crazy. You look amazing in that dress, and everything about you is gorgeous. I just wanted to tell you that, I really like you. Of course, I haven’t really gotten to know you better so-“ He gets cut off as a his lips are connected to another set. The kiss was started slowly as he kisses back, it was a passionate kiss. His hands wandered while her hands were hugging his cheeks. As their lips part, he says, “As I was saying before I got interrupted, I haven’t gotten to know you better so, I was hoping we could introduce ourselves and start from the top again.”. With a smile on his face, he said, “My name is Izuku, as you know, Im the number one hero. Whats your name?”

A/N - yall there will be a part 3 where the title makes sense. So just wait on that🩷🩷

#izuku midoriya x reader

[starkerlove]

it's been a long time and miss you so much! Teacher/student au request where Peter is a midtown student and he has a crush on his married Pe teacher, tony. He can't help but naughty daydreams about him until one it felt real

Hi there! I hope you like it! 

Peter Parker was a good student, maybe one of the best of the entire school, there was only one subject he didn't succeed, and that was PE. 

It wasn't that Peter didn't like sports, he did. But his professor was totally distracting. 

Professor Stark was strong, broad shoulders, a perfect goatee adorning his jaw. It made Peter go crazy for him. 

Everytime he flexed his muscles Peter lost a little bit more of his sanity. The man was married for God's sake! 

Still, the young student couldn't help but daydream. Being pressed by his professor against a wall and fucked right there at the gym. Of being forced on his knees in the locker room, to suck his professor's dick. 

It was all fantasies and dreams, until… it wasn't. 

Stark pressed Peter against a wall "Why don't you pay attention to class? You're going to fail the whole year because of PE, Parker!" 

"I'm… I'm sorry sir…" 

"You have to make an effort!" 

"I do sir! But… but…" 

"what's on your mind that distracts you so damn much?" 

"You" 

"me?" Stark smirked, "Is that so? Let's see what you can do to pass this subject huh?" 

"anything you want sir"

"anything?" 

"yes" 

Tony pulled him by the collar of his shirt to his personal office, licking the door behind them. 

He pushed Peter on his stomach against his desk, his hard on against Peter's bum. 

"let's see how much you want to pass" tony growled, squeezing Peter's ass, making the boy moan "Quiet! You don't want anyone to hear us do you?"

"no sir… I'm sorry" Peter stuttered 

"pull your shorts down. Boxers too" 

Peter did as he was told, exposing his white round ass to him. 

"such a pretty thing" Tony smiled, squeezing and pinching the boy's bum once more, before stroking his cock. 

He pulled his own pants down, grabbing a bottle of lube and spreading all over his dick, slowly pressing himself inside the boy. 

"fuck sir!" Peter had to bite his hand to keep himself quiet, it was like he was being torn apart in two pieces by Tony's huge cock. 

"you'll let me use you and you won't touch yourself" Tony warned, pressing himself completely inside the younger one. "understand?" 

"yes sir"

"good boy" tony replied before fucking him mercilessly pounding against his ass, deep and strong until he came inside the boy 

Peter was on the edge but did his best not to touch himself. 

Tony pulled back and dressed Peter's boxers and shorts once more, before dressing himself.

He smirked when he saw his come staining the behind of Peter's shorts. Turning him around he saw Peter's dick, hard showing under his shorts. 

"now go to class and don't touch yourself" 

"but sir… how am I going out like this?" 

"that's your problem, Parker. From now on I'm the only one who can touch this" he squeezed Peter's ass "and this" then he squeezed Peter's hard cock, that was smearing pre come on the front of his shorts as well "You're going to walk around like that, all stained with my come and not say a word to anyone" 

"understand?"

"yes sir" 

(is it just me or the idea of walking around with someone Tony's come inside of him and a hard on super hot?)

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #peter x tony #tony x peter #ask #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker/tony stark #starkerlove #tony stark x peter parker #writing #starkerlovewritesstuff

[iboatedhere]

“Now, everyone knows the navel, but the real star of the orange family is the cara cara,” Owen says as he gestures to the platter of perfectly sliced orange wedges on the table in front of him. “It’s sweet, and doesn’t have too many seeds….like a cross between a naval and a blood orange. Go ahead,” he says as he pushes the tray forward. “Take one. I brought plenty of extra since I’m betting they’re going to go quickly.”

TK rolls his eyes then smiles at one of Jonah’s teammates who shyly asks him for a bottle of organic, low sugar apple juice.

It’s his week to bring refreshments to the game, and he was happy for the help when his father offered, but so far, all Owen has been doing is flirting with mom’s over orange slices while TK fights for his life, trying to remember which kid is allergic to red dye #40 and who can’t have processed wheat products.

“I used to eat these all the time when I was growing up in Santa Monica,” Owen continues, “there used to be a tree in our backyard.”

“You’re from California?” One of the mother’s asks as she pushes her hair behind her ear.

Owen nods. “California, and then I moved to New York City….spent that first summer as a lifeguard in the Hamptons…it’s where I realized I wanted to be a firefighter, that that was my calling.”

“A lifeguard to a firefighter, you’ve been a hero your whole life.”

TK groans as his father puffs out his chest.

“Well,” Owen says, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would,” another woman says. “TK, you never mentioned how interesting your father was.”

“Yeah, he’s really interesting,” TK says, “I think the most interesting things about him are that he’s nearly sixty and he’s been divorced twice.”

The smiles slowly slip from their faces as they make their excuses to head back to the bleachers.

“Thanks a lot,” Owen says and TK rolls his eyes. “What? You’re the only one that’s allowed to find love at the little league game?”

“You are not finding love with those women.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, dad, you misunderstood. You. Are not. Finding love. With those women.”

“Why not?”

“They’re too young for you.”

“They’re not that much younger.”

“I’m pretty sure at least two of them are younger than me.”

Owen looks like he’s about to argue before he presses his lips together into a thin line and winces.

“Yeah,” TK says.

“Well, anyway, this is still fun. We should really invite the 126 to come to a game. I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

“Jonah wouldn’t like that. They’d be loud and he doesn’t even like it when I cheer for him like that. Which reminds me, you have to be cool. Don’t go crazy, don’t storm the field if you don’t agree with a call.”

“I would never do that.”

“The softball game doesn’t ring a bell? I guess getting punched in the face might mess with your memory.”

“That was an AFD-APD softball game against adults, not a child’s game. Plus O’Brien was being a—.” He cuts himself off as a couple of kids run by the table. “Butthead.”

TK snorts. “Nice.”

“Maybe we could have a cookout or something once the season ends. I could fire up the grill, you can invite Carlos and his niece.”

“Yeah,” TK says quickly, “maybe, I don’t know.”

“You know they miss you, right? They ask me about you because you don’t always text back.”

“I’m busy, dad. There’s a six year old that lives with me that needs me. I can’t spend my day sending cat memes back and forth.”

“I don’t think they expect you to do that.”

“I see Judd, sometimes. And Grace. And Mateo when we come over to hang out with Buttercup.”

“Okay,” Owen says. “All right.”

“I miss them,” TK says. “But I don’t know how to be around them right now, not after what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything, TK.”

“What I almost did. What I was going to do. How can they trust me?”

“They love you, that grants you some grace.”

“That’s unprofessional.”

“We’re a family,” Owen says as he squeezes TK’s shoulder. “We’re bound to be a little unprofessional from time to time.”

TK nods. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” Owen says. “We’re all here for you. We’re all on your side.”

TK nods as Jo suddenly calls his name.

“TK!” She calls, limping up to him with Carlos following behind, holding the first aid kit. “TK I need you!”

“What happened?” TK asks as he gets to his feet.

“She fell off the bench,” Carlos says, “even after I warned her to get down because I knew that would happen.”

“Don’t be mean to me,” Jo says with a stomp of her good leg. “I’m hurt.”

“It’s a scraped knee,” Carlos tells her. “I could put a bandaid on it for you.”

“I want TK to do it. He’s the paramedic.”

“Can’t argue with that,” TK says as he helps Jo onto the chair he vacated, and takes the first aid kit from Carlos with a wink. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #wip wednesday #little league AU