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hgfictionwriter · 20 days

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Long Distance Call

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you are doing the long distance thing. What's she to do when you surprise her with a fun photo?

Warning: Smut. Phone sex. Explicit language!

A/N: Based on this request.

“Alright, everyone. Settle in. We have a big game this Friday and we’ve got lots to go through to prepare. Let’s look at some footage.”

Jessie was honed in on the analysis until she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. Coach was addressing the defenders, so Jessie took the opportunity to check.

Jessie had to stifle a gasp, nearly choking in the process as she shot straight up in her chair so aggressively that it caused the chair to scrape loudly against the floor. The noise immediately drew curious looks from the team.

“Sorry,” she offered quietly as a deep blush began to radiate off her cheeks.

It wasn’t the “Morning, baby 🥰” message that’d caught her so off guard. It was the accompanying picture of your mostly naked body that had her shook.

She’d alluded to wanting photos like this, you know, for some added inspiration while you were apart, but you’d never followed through - until now.

Jessie subconsciously cleared her throat as she settled back into her seat. It took valiant effort to not fidget and squirm as heat was now pooling in a totally different area than her face.

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she tried desperately to refocus on game day tactics, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking of how she was going to get you back for messing with her. Mostly though, she thought of how she wanted to fuck you ragged until you could barely think and the only words coming from your mouth would be her name.

But she couldn’t. Not a while anyway. She swallowed her irritation and frustration. Long distance sucked.

“What was that all about?”

Janine’s overly intrigued query caught Jessie’s attention as the blonde fell into step with her as they were all leaving the meeting. Of course Janine had to inquire.

“Nothing really. A reminder came through on my phone and I thought I’d missed something, but it’s all good,” Jessie fibbed.

“Uh huh,” Janine responded, clearly not buying it, but benevolently let it go. “So, what are you up to tonight?”

“Dreaming of fucking my girlfriend silly,” Jessie thought.

“Not much. Maybe a bit more prep for the game, but I’m pretty tired, so it’ll be a low key evening,” she said instead. “You?”

“It’s date night,” Janine said with a bright smile. A moment later she offered an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard with Y/N so far away. How many weeks until you see her again?”

“5,” Jessie responded without missing a beat. She could even tell Janine the exact number of days if she’d asked, and there was a countdown on Jessie’s lock screen to prove it.

“It’ll go by quickly,” Janine said with dogged positivity. Jessie nodded and gave her a half smile.

“I know.”

Laughter suddenly erupted from a group of their teammates, drawing Janine’s attention away and leaving Jessie to fall back enough to find some privacy. When she was sure she was alone, she opened your text once more.

She inhaled deeply as she took in the image and a smirk tugged at her lips. She replied.

“Best text ever. Well, surprising - I opened it during analysis, btw! You look so fucking sexy. I miss you so much. I can’t express it. I wish I was coming home to you.”

She locked her screen and was about to leave when her phone buzzed again.

“That would be too much fun 😘. I wish I was waiting at home for you.”

Jessie expelled a slow, shaky breath. It was going to be a long afternoon.

By the time Jessie got home, the heat between her legs had only gotten worse. The image of you was burned in her mind and she kept replaying past times you made love and kept envisioning what she’d do to you if you were around.

She dropped her bag by the front door and immediately opened up the picture you sent.

“Fuck,” she breathed as she took you in.

She walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on it and immediately tucked a hand underneath the waistband of her shorts and into her underwear.

“Jesus,” she muttered when she felt how wet she was just from picturing you. She ran her fingers through her folds and dipped them briefly inside. The wet sounds each motion made would’ve made her blush on some occasions, but not today. She drew her fingers back and began circling her clit as she looked at your naked body.

She was releasing a heavy breath when her phone suddenly vibrated and a notification came up startling her. She drew her hand out of her shorts immediately and her heart raced until her mind caught up, realizing it was you calling.

She took a few deep breaths before she answered.

“Hey babe,” she said, still feeling hot and flustered in a couple of ways.

“Hi baby,” you greeted cheerfully. “How was training?”

“Uh, good,” Jessie said, a bit stilted in her reply as she tried to refocus. “Yeah, it was a long day, but good. How was yours?”

“The day was fine,” you answered easily. “I missed you. In case you couldn’t tell.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jessie breathed as she was brought right back to what she was doing a moment ago. “That was,” she struggled to find the words, “so hot. I was not expecting that at all. But holy shit - you are so sexy.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to make sure you miss me, too,” you joked.

“No challenge there.” Jessie breathed heavy into the phone.

“Well, if I can’t be there in person, the least I can do is give you some inspiration.” You told her in a flirtatious tone. Jessie gave a breathy chuckle.

“Mission accomplished.”

“Mmm, is that so?” You asked, a lilt in your voice. “Tell me more.”

“Um,” Jessie felt her cheeks start to warm. “You’re just super sexy.” She paused momentarily before relenting, lowering her voice unnecessarily to a near-whisper. “And I was definitely wet.”

You didn’t skip a beat. “Mm, baby. Tell me more. Did you think you were wet or did you confirm?”

Jessie blushed further. “Confirmed,” she nearly mumbled.

“God. I wish I was between your legs right now. I’d love to taste you and see for myself just how wet you are.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jessie’s voice was raspy and she fidgeted in place as the need between her legs was reignited and began to pulse once more. She cleared her throat quietly and added, “Pretty fucking wet.”

“Right now?” You asked. Jessie hummed a bit before replying.

“Maybe.”

“Ugh, baby, don’t tease me,” you told her and she responded with a short laugh.

“Excuse me? Who’s teasing who here?”

“You know, for someone who wanted nudes and finally got one, you seem to be complaining,” you joked, knowing she’d offer an immediate rebuttal.

“I’m not! I fucking loved it. And yes, I’m wet right now,” Jessie countered. She fidgeted again and went on in a hushed voice. “In fact, I was…you know, doing stuff, when you called.”

“Jesus,” you said with a sharp inhale. “Now that is the sexiest thing. Oh my god, Jess.” She could hear the satisfied grin in your voice. “Don’t let me stop you,” you went on in a soft voice. “Maybe I can even help you.”

“Yeah?” Jessie asked, shifting her jaw subconsciously and very intrigued now. “How so, baby?”

“Imagine it’s my hand between your legs. Lower the phone and let me hear how wet I make you,” you instructed.

Jessie grit her teeth, eyes rolling into the back of her head already at the events that were unfolding. She gave you want you wanted; lowering the phone and dipping her fingers back through her slick folds. Her arousal was obvious right away.

She held the phone back up, but began to circle her clit.

“Holy fuck, Jessie. That was so incredibly sexy. I’m aching for you - I need you so bad.”

“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She rubbed her clit with a firmer touch and rocking her hips up in slow gyrations. “I was so wet at training too just thinking about what I’d do to you if you were here.”

“Baby, please, tell me,” you pleaded. You heard her chuckle softly, but you detected how her breathing grew heavier in your ear.

“Only if you’re a good girl,” Jessie smirked. “Touch yourself for me. Two fingers - tracing around your clit and between your lips. Dip them down until you can tell me how wet you are for me.”

“Oh my God.” You nearly panted. Jessie often took control in the bedroom, but you hadn’t explored this facet of it before. Hearing her speak like this was unexpected, but so sexy. You did as you were told and moaned softly into the phone. “Baby, I’m dripping wet,” you told her as you drew your fingers back up and the tips were covered in your juices.

Jessie groaned into the phone and bit her lip.

“Just what I like to hear,” she affirmed as she continued to rub circles around her swollen clit. “God, I miss fucking you.”

You groaned in need and agreement as you continued to run your fingers through your lips and grazing your clit. “Me too, baby. My fingers and toys just aren’t the same.”

Jessie breathed heavy as a satisfied grin crossed her face. “Damn right they’re not.” She moaned faintly as her hips bucked against her hand. “If you were here, I’d have you on your back, legs on my shoulders as I pin you down, and I’d be knuckle deep in you.” She dipped her fingers inside of herself and her eyes fluttered shut. “God, I can feel your cum all over my fingers. And you know I love the way you start to pool around my knuckles and in my palm.”

“Jess,” you panted. “Oh my god. Keep going. I love the way you fill me up. The way you fit perfectly inside of me, stretching me just right.”

“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed as she went back to rocking her hips against her fingers on her clit. “You’re perfect for me. I’d be stroking you hard and deep. I’d be pumping my whole body against yours I’d be fucking you so hard. The bed would bang against the wall every time I bottom out inside of you, pushing you deeper into the mattress.”

“Oh god, Jessie, you fuck me so good,” you praised. You could vividly picture the prideful and smug look on her face and it turned you on even more.

People loved talking about how humble Jessie was. But when it came to fucking and pleasing you, there was nothing humble about her. And frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I love when you say my name,” Jessie said, her voice growing strained as her breathing continued to pick up. She grinned once more. “But I love it even more when you scream it.”

You moaned loudly into the phone, letting your head fall back as you rubbed your clit harder and faster.

“So make me,” you challenged her.

Jessie groaned, biting her lip again, her back arching off the couch. “I love you so much,” she breathed with a laugh of appreciation. “Baby, you know I’d be hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. I’d be making sure that every time I fill you to the hilt I’m sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. My thumb’s on your clit, circling and rubbing it. And after I kiss you deeply, my lips hard on yours, I’ll kiss your neck.

“I won’t mean to suck on your skin too hard, but feeling you buck and writhe beneath me, moaning in my ear as I pump in and out of you makes me fucking feral for you. Like I can’t get close enough or love you hard enough. I mark you, but I don’t feel so bad about it because that’s how much I want you, to the point where I can’t control myself.

“When you moan as I latch down on your neck, I push a third finger inside of you. You wrap around me tightly, but you’re so fucking wet I just slip in. Feeling your walls grip me and pulse around me as I move nearly sends me into a frenzy.”

“Jesus Christ, Jess. I’m so close,” you warn her, your voice high and faint.

“I can feel your body start to tense up. Your legs start to shake and your breath quickens as I continue. I curl my fingers inside of you, relishing each punctuated moan you release each time I make contact. Your arousal is pooling on the sheets now as I’m driving my hips into you. I’m absolutely soaked because of how sexy and beautiful you are beneath me.”

“Holy shit. Jessie.” Your eyes screwed shut and her name was loud and strained as your climax hit. “I’m cumming.”

“Umph,” Jessie moaned as she bit her lip. “Baby girl. So fucking hot,” she said as she bucked her hips against her fingers which desperately rubbed her sensitive clit. The tightening sensation deep in her core built rapidly as she heard you cumming in her ear and she envisioned your body against hers.

A tight groan worked its way up Jessie’s throat as her core began to pulsate. Her hips jerked against her fingers as she brought herself over the edge.

You both whimpered and breathed heavy into the phone as you rode out your joint orgasms. Jessie’s chest heaved up and down and she slumped into the couch, her underwear thoroughly soaked through and too lazy to remove her hand from them. She could barely hold up the phone and had yet to open her eyes. Eventually, you spoke.

“Babe. That was insane. And totally incredible,” you relayed in pure appreciation and admiration. “You’re amazing.”

Jessie chuckled languidly, slowly opening her eyes.

“Amazing what one can do with a great muse.”

You laughed. “Well, I have to say, long distance may not be quite so unbearable if we have repeats like this.”

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” Jessie assured you. “You send me fun photos, and I promise I’ll take good care of you. Deal?”

“Deal.” You agreed with a breathy laugh.

“For real though,” Jessie started, “I really miss you. I love you, you know that, right?”

Again, you chuckled. Of course you knew. And you knew how lucky you were too.

“I know, baby. I love you, too. And I miss you more than you know.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #jflem #woso #canwnt x reader #woso imagine #smut fic

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flemingsfreckles · 2 months

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Better Boyfriend than Him pt.2 (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read Part 1

Preview: You can’t stop thinking about Jessie after she proves she’s better in bed than your current boyfriend. You decide to tell her. (Inspired by the song Boyfriend by Dove Cameron)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) frat boy Jessie vibes, oral sex (r receiving), strap on sex (r receiving), masturbation, tit sucking, hickeys, swearing, very small mention to sex with men, the whole 9 yards folks.

WC: 6.0k

A/N: my plan was to end this series here but if there’s enough requests I can try and continue it, I just might need some suggestions/guidance on where to take it.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Jessie. Specifically you couldn’t stop thinking about how good she had been able to make you feel, how good it had felt to have her fingers deep inside of you, how her tongue felt on your nipples and on your clit, how it felt being under her gaze. She had been so attentive to you, paying attention to every movement and noise you made. How she had been able to make you come undone so easily with just her touch. The sights and sounds of your night together wouldn’t leave your mind.

She was in your mind all day every day, even when you were sleeping. You had woken up more days than not the past week with your core throbbing and a wet spot forming on your underwear. In an attempt to push her from your mind you’d either take a cold shower or throw on your shoes and gone for a run, punishing yourself for the thoughts.

Today was different, you were so tired of the cold showers and the running, but once again you had woken up after vividly dreaming of Jessie holding your legs open as she worked her tongue against you.

It’s not like she’d know, you thought, she’d have no idea, there’s no harm to it. You reached down, pushing your shorts and underwear off, you could feel the way the fabric clung to you for a second, your wetness holding it every so slightly. Abandoning your lower half temporarily you moved both hands up to your chest, letting your fingers gently graze over your nipples. Trying your best to copy what Jessie had done to you, you gently drew circles, feeling them harden under your touch, it felt good but not as good as when she did it. You placed your thumb in your mouth, wetting it before returning it to your nipple, a better sensation as your spit allowed your thumb to glide closer to the movements of Jessie’s tongue.

You closed your eyes, picturing Jessie straddling your waist, her weight holding your hips down as her rough fingertips played with you. You continued to play with your chest, a mixture of pinching, rolling, teasing, until you had had enough and you could feel the arousal between your legs begin to seep onto the bed sheet below you.

You let your right hand slide down your stomach, moving two fingers to collect your wetness, dragging it up toward your clit. Your fingers stayed against your clit and you began circling it, only applying the slightest bit of pressure. You were trying your best to mimic Jessie’s tongue, her tongue was warm, wet, and had mastered the art of pleasure, your fingers had not.

You had done this before, you knew you could eventually get yourself off just rubbing your clit, but that felt so boring after your night with Jessie. You were desperately missing the suction her lips had provided alongside her tongue, something you couldn’t replicate on your own.

You missed her fingers too. You moved your other hand down from your chest, your ring and middle finger finding the opening of your pussy and sliding them in. You felt yourself clench around your fingers in the same way you had Jessie’s. You continue pushing them in until you’re completely inside. Attempting to mimic Jessie movements you just start with curling your fingers, leaving them buried inside of you. It feels good, a small pressure building inside your stomach. You looked down at your hands, wishing you were looking back at Jessie’s brown eyes, her messy hair, her hands gripping onto your thighs. Just picturing her has your walls clenching tighter on your fingers. You let out a moan at the thought of her.

The previous shame you felt about fantasizing about your best friend while you touched yourself was long gone, you kept your eyes closed, imagining your hands were hers, trying to remember the feeling of her body weight on yours. Imagination running wild you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining her, now naked in your fantasy, being the one thrusting her fingers into you. You pictured the small sheen of sweat covering her face and chest, the feeling of her toned body under your hands, the way she’d look down at you, holding herself above your body as she pleased you. Picturing your name falling from her lips in a moan as she fucked you was all you needed to push yourself over the edge.

You felt your orgasm come over you, a small whimper coming from your mouth as you bit down hard on your bottom lip. You pull your fingers off of your clit before you become too sensitive. You gently remove your fingers, feeling a wet trail connecting your fingers to your pussy, you wipe your fingers off on the inside of your thigh, deciding you’ll shower anyway before starting the day. Your orgasm was good, but nowhere near as satisfying as the one Jessie had been able to pull from you. You desperately wanted to feel that again.

You stay laying down in bed, catching your breath only to be brought completely out of your fantasy as your phone begins to ring on the nightstand next to you. Rolling your eyes at the irony, it’s Jessie’s face and name staring back at you.

“What’s up?” You answer overthinking how you usually would answer the phone when she called.

“Are you alright?” She questions you.

“Yeah why?”

“You sound out of breath, what are you doing?”

“Um,” you think for a second, it’s not like you could tell her you had just finished masturbating to the thought of her, “ I’m working out.”

“In your apartment?” You cursed yourself for giving her your location.

“Yeah.” The line goes quiet for a second.

“Oh gross, did you just finish having sex with him?! Is that why you’re out of breath? I thought you ended it.” Jessie whispers into the phone, thinking your ex-boyfriend was potentially laying next to you within earshot.

“I am, I did. I did end it.”

“Are you already fucking someone else?” You note a twinge of jealousy in her voice.

“Oh my god Jessie, no there’s no one else here.”

“Oh a little solo action then?” You can practically hear the teasing look on her face, how both of her eyebrows would be raised, her lips in a small smirk. When you don’t respond immediately she lets out a small laugh and in a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance floods your body. You hate that she figured it out, you also hated that she had laughed. You impulsively press the red button, hanging up on her before tossing your phone to the side and letting out a frustrated groan.

You realize that maybe you should’ve kept lying, hanging up just gave Jessie the confirmation that she had called you while you were touching yourself.

Looking down you’re still naked, your fingers and thigh still slightly covered in your own slick. The embarrassment and slight shame came creeping back in and you quickly grabbed the sheet covering yourself up. You feel the phone vibrate reaching over to look at what she had sent.

Jessie 🦖: When you’re done thinking of how good I fucked you, wash your hands and then call me back.

You: You wish I was thinking of you.

You do as she says and pull yourself from the bed and go into the bathroom to wipe off the remaining arousal between your legs and wash your hands. You throw on a clean pair of panties and grab a pair of sweatpants from your closet. Picking up your phone you click her contact to redial her.

“That was quick.”

“I was already done when you called me.”

“Then why’d you hang up?”

“I don’t know, I just did.” You knew why you hung up, you just weren’t interested in admitting it to her.

“What are you doing right now, besides dreaming of me?”

“Holy shit if I knew you and your ego were going to be insufferable afterwards, I would’ve kept my legs shut.” Her ego had always been big around her talents in bed, it was just more annoying now that you knew they were as good as she had claimed and that she could directly tease you about it.

“Okay but seriously what are you doing? Can we go get coffee before class?” You both had a chemistry class at 11, you would always walk together and frequently would stop at a coffee shop before. Jessie claimed it was the only thing that kept her awake during the lecture.

“Yeah, I can meet you in like 30 minutes. I need to shower.”

“Okay well I’m already on my way to yours I’ll be there in five.”

“Alright see you then.” You hopped back out of bed, moving back into your bathroom, stripping and turning on the shower.

Turning off the water you reached for your towel wrapping it around yourself and then headed back into your bedroom. Even though you knew she was coming over it startled you to see Jessie sitting on your bed on her phone. She’s wearing a tight white t-shirt, the sleeves of the shirt sitting tightly against her bicep, her legs covered by a pair of gray wash jeans. She raises her head toward you hearing the bathroom door open. You didn’t miss how her eyes moved up and down your body as if she was checking you out.

“Hi.”

“Hey, just give me like 15 minutes and then we can head out.” You tell her, expecting her to get up and move to the living room to let you finish getting ready. Except she doesn’t move, she remains in place on your bed.

“Get out so I can get ready.” Realizing she wasn’t taking the hint you decide to be blunt with her.

“Oh come on, nothing I haven’t seen, or touched, before” She rolls her eyes at you but respecting your wishes she pushes herself off the bed, giving you one last look up and down before she walks out.

Trying your best to ignore the fact that she seemed to be checking you out, you drop your towel and throw on a pair of jeans and a black crewneck. Not wanting to bother with your hair you leave it as is and walk out to the living room. Jessie stands up moving toward the door to put on her shoes, you follow doing the same, grabbing your backpack and keys before you both head out the door.

The trip to the coffee shop felt normal, you were almost able to forget that the girl sitting across from you had made your legs shake around her head. You sat and complained to each other about school, discussed plans for the weekend, what you planned to cook for dinner that week, pointless conversations, but it was easy. It was like it had always been and that felt like a relief to you for once. Jessie did her typical attempt to try and get you to miss class, asking a ton of questions right before you had to leave the coffee shop in hopes of distracting you enough you’d forget you both had to go, and as always it failed as you looked at your watch and stood up to leave.

Lecture was boring today, it usually was on the more mundane side but today your professor had put on a documentary. He said he wanted to give everyone’s mind a break from reading lecture slides and while you were grateful that you didn’t have to be taking notes, you would’ve preferred to just stay home and watch the documentary on the couch instead of in uncomfortable lecture hall seating. Today was also a day you might have preferred the lecture, it would’ve kept your mind occupied instead of letting it wander, thinking again of the inappropriate acts committed between you and the girl sitting to your left.

The more you think about her the more restless in your seat you get. Feeling unusually bold you pulled a piece of paper from your notebook and grabbed a pen.

You scribbled out the words, ‘You weren’t wrong earlier’ and slid the piece of paper over to Jessie.

You watch from the corner of your eye as she reads it and turns to you, confusion written on her face. You turn to her but don’t do anything besides look back at her. When you don’t give her any clarification she grabs the pen from your hand and writes back, sliding the paper over.

‘What does that mean?’ For a second you debate writing ‘never mind’, backing out, but you figure fuck it why not you still had another half an hour of class to go, might as well make it entertaining for yourself.

‘When you said I was thinking of you’ you passed back the paper and pen.

Jessie reads it and writes again, ‘what?’ You have to hold back a laugh, for as big of a game as Jessie talked, the poor girl was oblivious sometimes.

‘I was thinking of you this morning’ you wrote before crossing it out, you may as well be more direct since Jessie wasn’t picking up any context clues. ‘This morning when I was touching myself, I was thinking about you.’

You take a deep breath and slide the paper over to her. The second you feel her start to grab the paper, the butterflies start in your stomach. You don’t turn to see her reaction this time, you stare forward at the screen, acting as if you were fascinated by what was being shown. In your peripheral vision you see her read the note and her head snaps in your direction. She’s staring into the side of your head, refusing to give in, you keep your eyes locked on the movie. She leans forward trying to get you to look at her, you refuse again turning your head away from her slightly. You feel a sharp pain in your shin, now you turn toward her as Jessie has resorted to kicking you to get your attention.

She points to the paper where your confession was written. You look down at the paper then back up to her. Her expression is hard to read, she looks confused but also has a smug look on her face, she raises her eyebrows and gives a small shake of her head, you can tell she wants you to explain yourself. You just shrug at her instead, you’re thankful the lights are dimmed or she’d be able to see the blush on your cheeks.

She grabs the pen and writes quickly, shoving the paper back in your direction. ‘Tell me what I was doing in your fantasy’ You're shocked by her request, not expecting her to ask for the details. You hesitate, feeling shy about fully exposing your dirty thoughts to her.

‘You were on top of me, playing with my nipples, eating me out, using your fingers on me’ you passed back the paper. Jessie reads it and you watch as she adjusts in her seat, looking a little restless herself. She begins writing.

‘Anything else?’ It’s like she knew you were holding back some of the details from her.

Jessie had numerous times before told you about her nights with other girls, she’d talk about the toys she had, the handcuffs, the blindfold, the vibrator, and you wouldn’t mind using those, but what crept into your fantasy that morning was the idea of her fucking you with a strap-on.. You’d heard her gloat before about how good she was with it, the idea was never something you had thought about but this morning when you were picturing her on top of you, your own fingers inside your pussy, you wished it was her thrusting into you with the toy instead of your fingers.

‘I might’ve thought about you using toys.’ Crossing out the word toys you change it to read ‘I might’ve thought about you using your strap’ You couldn’t believe you were sitting in your lecture hall writing these things on a simple piece of notebook paper, surrounded by a hundred other students.

Jessie starts to write back as the lights in the lecture hall are suddenly clicked back on to full strength. Being too caught up in your note passing both of you had failed to see the credits on the documentary start rolling across the screen.

You look at Jessie, you now see that she’s sporting a matching blush, she's looking right back at you, hand still holding the pen that was writing. Breaking the eye contact you look to see what she had written ‘I can make that happen, I just bought a new one that we’

Looking back up she’s still looking at you. You’re unsure of what to say, nerves coming back stronger now that the lights were on, you felt more exposed. Thankfully Jessie breaks the silence.

“So, back to my place?” Her eyes look you up and down again as she had earlier back at your apartment.

You nod rapidly at her, grabbing the pen from her hand and throwing it into your bag along with your notebook, you zip up the pockets. “Yes.”

Jessie is already standing waiting for you as you pack up, you watch as she takes the note and folds it carefully sticking it into her back pocket. You stand up, following her out of the auditorium. Neither of you say anything on the walk back to her place, you’re thankful she doesn’t live far.

Once you’re both through the door you take off your backpacks, tossing them to the side, the second yours leaves your hand Jessie is pressing you against the wall. Her hands are holding your waist tightly, her hips pressing firmly into yours, her face just millimeters from yours.

“Are you sure?” The same words she had used before she fucked you last time come from her lips.

“Please.” You beg her, you had been so needy for her you didn’t care you were begging, if you needed to beg to get her to fuck you that’s what you’d do. You grab the back of her neck and pull her in. Not wasting any time with soft kisses, your tongue is already moving against hers.

You continue to make out, loving the feeling of her pinning you to the door. Jessie’s teeth close around your bottom lip as she pulls away, biting it gently before releasing it with a pop. Your hands move to the bottom of her shirt and for once it’s you asking if you can undress her instead. She gives you the okay and you pull her shirt up and over her head, you toss it and it lands on top of your backpack. You take a second to admire her figure, she was an athlete and worked out often but you had never taken the time to appreciate the muscles of her shoulders, arms, and abdomen.

While you’re admiring her, Jessie’s hands reach for the bottom of your crewneck, pulling it up, you lift your arms helping her remove it.

“No bra?” Jessie’s eyes are wide as she had been expecting you to have a bra still covering your chest. You looked down, you had briefly forgotten that you decided against wearing a bra this morning, the thick crew neck provided you enough coverage. Jessie’s hands come up, grabbing your chest with a squeeze before dropping her head to place her lips around your nipple. She sucks, much rougher than she had the first time, you throw your head back accidentally slamming it into the door. Hearing the sound of you smacking your head Jessie releases the suction on your nipple and looks up at you.

“You alright?”

“Yeah it just felt good.” You clarify “your mouth, not hitting my head.”

“I figured.” She doesn’t put her mouth back where you desperately want it, instead her hands are wrapping around you grasping onto your thighs just below your ass.

“Jump.” She says to you and you do, she picks you up, wrapping your legs around her torso she begins to move you away from the door. She walks you back to her bedroom, attaching her lips to your neck as you move through the hallway. You feel her start to suck, you were normally one to protest anyone leaving marks on you but her warm tongue and lips felt so good you moaned instead of telling her off.

Bending down she places your back onto her bed, her lips continue to trail across your neck, a mix of gentle sucking, licking, and kissing has you arching your back into her touch. Her hands move from your thighs up to your ass giving it a hard squeeze.

“Jessie just fuck me already”

“I’m getting there, have some patience.” She scolds you for being so impatient. “Take your pants off, leave your panties on, I’ll be right back.”

She pulls herself off of you, moving over to a drawer in her dresser. You watch as she pulls out a dildo, a harness, and a bottle of lube. She messes around with the harness for a minute, attaching the dildo to it. Remembering what she asked, your hands move to the button of your jeans, you unbutton and start to remove them as Jessie turns back to you, harness in hand. She makes her way back over placing the harness and lube onto the bed. Her hands come to grip your inner thighs she spreads your legs, eyes staring at your core where the obvious wet spot was showing through your light gray boyshorts.

“Fuck you’re already so wet.”

“I know, I’ve been like this everyday since you fucked me.”

“Jesus.” Her tongue runs across her lips, pulling the bottom one in between her teeth.

Her hands come up to the elastic on your underwear, her fingers curling around and starting to pull down showing how wet you truly were. Once she removed your panties from around your ankles her hands came back up to your inner thigh, she spread them further this time, fully exposing your dripping core to her. Instead of moving to put on the harness like you expected, she moved to lay down, her face settled between your thighs. You grabbed the hair on top of her head, sitting up slightly, your hand holding her in place not letting her mouth reach you.

“What are you doing?” You asked. She looked up at you.

“I’m eating you out?” She phrased it as if she was questioning what she was doing. Her eyes looked from your face down to your pussy and back up.

“I thought we were using the strap.” You used the hand not holding her hair to point to where it sat on the bed.

“We are” she reassures you. “I’m still going to warm you up. It’s not going to feel good if I just shove it in.”

“Oh,” Now you feel silly for questioning what she was doing.

“Lay back down.” You do as she says, relaxing back against the pillows. You’re engulfed in the smell of her, her pillows and sheets covered in her scent. You loosen your grip on her head, letting her lips make contact with you. She starts by just kissing across you, moving from the inside of one thigh, across to the other, keeping the pressure light as she would place her lips on your clit.

You let her tease you, not wanting to question her actions anymore. She continued with the soft kisses passing back and forth across your core until you felt her tongue dip between your folds unexpectedly. You let out a soft moan as her tongue drags from your entrance up to your clit. She moves her lips to surround it, sucking gently and using her tongue to trace circles around the sensitive bud.

“Oh fuck Jess.” You had thought about moaning her name in your fantasies, may as well turn them into a reality. This time you watch her reaction to you moaning her name, she rolls her eyes back and lets out a groan against your heat. Her tongue continues pleasuring you, so much better than your fingers had that morning. Nothing felt as good as her tongue. It wasn’t long before your legs were shaking and your grip on her hair became so tight your fingers were starting to hurt. A string of moans mixed in with Jessie’s name falls from your mouth, she continues sucking, working you through your orgasm before you push her off.

She sits up, using her thumb to clear her chin, the same way she did before, sucking your wetness off her finger. She leans over you, bringing her lips to yours. Being able to taste yourself on her lips had you ready for round two.

“See how good you taste?” Jessie breathes as she pulls away from the kiss. She’s hovering over you, her breathing is heavy, her eyes dark, the way she had you caged to the bed was incredibly dominant but made you feel so safe. You just nod your head at her question.

“So fucking good.” Jessie says quietly, more to herself than to you, as she moves off of you. She stands next to the bed, bending over and kissing you quickly before her hands move to her jeans. She undoes them and they slide down her thighs, leaving her standing in a light blue pair of tight boxers. You swear you can see a wet spot between her legs, a slightly darker blue. Before you can confirm, she reaches for the harness, bending down to put her feet through it, pulling it up to rest around her hips.

“Um, do you want me to put a condom on it?” When you look at her like she’s crazy for asking she explains.

“It’s clean, I always clean them, I just usually offer with different partners if they’re more comfortable, but this one is also brand new so… up to you.” For once, she’s the one who looks flustered and new to this, it’s a nice change, reminding you that it’s still just Jessie, your friend, who, while often a smooth talker, can also be a complete dork.

“No I’m good without it.”

Your stomach fluttered with anticipation as she climbed back on the bed. You couldn’t help but stare at the toy. It was realistically shaped, clear in color, it was thick and relatively long but nothing unrealistic. You were thankful Jessie had picked reasonably, not choosing to get the largest cock she could find.

She found herself settled between your thighs again, she reached over grabbing the small bottle of lube opening it and dripping some onto the head of the toy.

“You’re probably wet enough but better safe than sorry right?” She gives you a shy smile seeing you were watching her hand spread the lube down the shaft. Once she’s done she wipes the extra on the back of her thigh and shifts closer to you. One hand grasps the strap by the base, the other supporting her body weight next to you.

She moved the head of the strap between your folds, collecting some of your own wetness on the tip. She repeats the action a few times before stopping with the tip sitting against your entrance. You feel her begin to push it slowly, letting you adjust to the familiar and yet completely different feeling of her entering you. You watch as her eyes bounce between where she was inside of you and up to your eyes and face, checking your facial expressions with every movement.

She moves her hand from her strap, no longer needing the guidance, she grabs your thigh, pulling it up and around her waist. You get the hint bringing both of your legs to wrap about her back, allowing her to move to be on top of you instead of sitting up. She fully pushes into you until her hips flush with yours. You let out a shaky breath, not even realizing you had been holding it in. You had done this before with men but the girth of Jessie’s cock was stretching you in a new way.

“Are you okay?” Noticing the change in your breathing, Jessie checks making sure you’re comfortable.

“Yeah just give me a second. You’re well endowed compared to my previous partners.” You wink at her. Jessie stays where she is, not moving her hips, holding herself above you. She kisses you and you can’t help but think about how intimate this feels, it spreads a warm tingle throughout your body. She’s patient, not nagging asking if you’re ready yet, not rolling her eyes waiting, not thrusting just to see your reaction, all things your previous partners had done. She just waits, occupying herself with trailing kissing down your neck and across your collarbones.

“You can move.” After what felt like an hour but was probably only a minute or two, the stretching feeling subsides and now just a dull ache of need remains.

Jessie picks up her head from where she was leaving hickeys on your chest, hovering above you again. She slowly moves her hips back before pushing back in. She gives a few more test thrusts, not wanting to rush and hurt you.

You see her eyes studying your face and wanting to give her the confidence that she wasn’t going to hurt you, you pull her in by the neck like you're going to kiss her, only turning your head away and putting your lips to her ear.

“Fuck me like you mean it Jessie.” You softly say into her ear, gently biting in an attempt to get her riled up.

Your words and actions work as Jessie drops to her forearms from her hands, dipping her head into the space between your head and shoulder. She curses into your skin before attaching her lips to your neck. Her hips begin thrusting fast and hard against yours, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. The change in pace is just what you needed. Feeling her pull nearly all the way out before slamming back into you filling you back up. Every time her hips meet yours the strap bumps against your clit giving you even more pleasure.

With each thrust into you, a different noise leaves your mouth it's a mix of groans, moans, whimpers, along with curses and cries of her name. Your arms are wrapped around her, nails gently scratching at her back. Jessie is also moaning, her face right next yours meaning you heard every noise she made even if she tried to hide it.

You feel the build up, this time is different, coming from a place that feels deeper in your stomach.

“I’m going to cum.” You manage to get out between all the other noises you were making.

“Me too” you’re surprised to hear Jessie admit. Your surprise doesn’t last long as your mind goes blank as your orgasm crashes down. All you can think of is how good she feels inside of you. You feel yourself clenching tightly around Jessie’s cock as she continues to thrust quickly into you. Your legs shaking again, feeling tired wrapped around Jessie.

She gives one last hard thrust before she moans your name into your neck, something she hadn’t done before. Hearing your name fall from her lips was new and incredibly attractive. Jessie kept her cock fully inside of you grinding her hips against yours, giving her the stimulation she needed to work through her orgasm. Her grinding got progressively slower until she came to a stop. Nothing filled the previously loud bedroom but the sound of you both breathing heavily.

Jessie pressed herself up onto her hands, you feel as the sweat you both had worked up causes your skin to stick briefly. She leaves her hips against yours. Her cheeks are red and you’re sure yours are too. She’s smiling down at you, her shoulders moving up and down with every breath. You reach up with one hand, pushing her baby hairs back and out of her face.

“You alright?” It was your turn to ask her for once.

“I’m so good, that’s never happened before. Are you good?” The smile on her face doesn’t leave.

“What hasn’t happened before?” You ignore her asking if you’re good, more concerned about what she meant.

“I’ve never cum from using the strap on someone. Like it turns me on but then I usually have to use a vibrator or need something else, that just happened.” She shakes her head in disbelief of what had just occurred.

“Must be the new strap.” You said looking up at her.

“Or it’s you.” She quickly responds. She looks down to where the two of you are still connected. Your eyes follow her. “Are you good with me pulling out?”

“Yeah go ahead.” You try to relax, your pussy still tight around her. A small noise slips out of your mouth as she pulls back slowly. Once she’s fully out you feel yourself clench around nothing, missing the feeling of her inside of you. Jessie slides off the bed and moves into her bathroom. You hear the water run for a second. She comes back a few seconds later with a washcloth in hand. She holds it out almost as if she’s going to give it to you but doesn’t fully extend her arm.

“Are you good if I clean you up? The lube can be pretty sticky. Or you can do it yourself if you’re more comfortable.”

“Yeah that’s fine Jess.” You let your legs fall back open and she uses the washcloth to wipe you down, her movements are extra gentle as you shift away from her unintentionally when she grazes over your clit, still sensitive from your two orgasms.

“Sorry.” She apologizes. She wipes the inside of your thighs last before she turns her attention to the mess between her own legs. She loosens the straps of the harness, letting it fall to the floor. She reaches for the waistband of her boxers before pausing and looking at you. You can tell she seems hesitant to take them off under your watch.

“I won’t look, I promise.” You turn away slightly, looking at the ceiling. You can hear her moving around. A minute later you feel the bed dip beside you. She pulls the blanket up covering herself and then covering you as well. You roll over to face her, keeping your eyes even with hers, the blanket was covering her but still not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

You shift closer to her. Not close enough that you can touch her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off her skin. Not saying anything, she grabs your hand pulling you toward her, she drapes your arm across her waist, your head coming to rest on her chest as her arm wraps over your shoulder, her fingers gently scratching on your back. You let out a sigh and feel her do the same. You didn’t know what this meant for you and her but just being here, your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat, felt like everything you’d ever need.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt #portland thorns #woso smut #Jessie Fleming smut

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

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Big Boss II

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You're not just Not-Wolfsburg's Big Boss

You're a very good Big Boss.

You know this because Coach Emma and your mothers tell you so.

Sometimes though, you wish you weren't the Big Boss of Chelsea.

Specifically, now.

You wiggle happily in your seat as you sit in a video review session. The team are playing Arsenal at the weekend and you swing your legs back and forth as some of your favourite players appear on the screen.

"That's Daan!" You tell Jessie and Niamh. "She's so cool!"

Niamh looks at you a little wounded. "Cooler than us?"

You give her a look. "Of course! 'Cause she's Arsenal."

"Maybe tone down the love, princesse," Momma laughs as she moves to sit in your seat, swinging you up into her lap," We're still Chelsea here."

You sigh. "Why? Morsa says that if I love something I should let people know."

"I think she meant someone's cooking or a game, not one of our rivals."

"But why?"

"Well..." Momma has to think for a second. "Because being a good Big Boss means that you have to take into account other people's feelings. Jessie and Niamh might feel sad if you keep talking about Arsenal."

You hadn't thought about that before so you slump in Momma's lap.

"Sorry," You murmur. You shouldn't lie but if it's to save someone's feelings you think it's okay like that time Morsa lied about how your cookies tasted even though you know that you put salt in one of them by accident.

You wiggle on Momma's lap excitedly though at the thought of seeing the Arsenal girls again. Leah and Katie are super cool and Jill's tall so you climb up onto her shoulders so you can be tall too. Beth and Daan are extra special though because every time you see them, they give you a juice box and a snack.

You kick your legs out a little as you wonder what snacks Daan will give you this time.

"That's Leah!" You say before turning around in Momma's lap to peek over her shoulder at Morsa," Is she better than you?"

Morsa chokes a little bit, thumping her chest as she coughs. "What?"

"Cause you and her play the same position," You explain like Morsa's slow," Is she better than you?"

"Princesse," Morsa says in shock," What makes you think she's better than me?"

You shrug. "Dunno. That's why I'm asking."

"Just because she's Arsenal doesn't mean she's better than me," Morsa says," I'm one of the best."

"Was just asking!" You defend, sticking your tongue out," Momma says that if I ever wonder about something it's better to ask!"

When game day rolls around, you're very excited.

You're excited for every match day but especially against Arsenal. You get up extra early and go downstairs to play with your toys while Morsa and Momma wake up. You thought about going to the Big Bed but you know that you would just fall asleep and you want to be awake for the game today.

"Seeing the Arsenal girls," You tell Morsa when she asks what's got you so hyper," They're my favourite!"

She groans like she always does when you proclaim your love for Arsenal.

Momma laughs before going serious. "I know the Arsenal girls are your friends, princesse," She says," But this is very serious, okay? You can't tell them anything about how we're going to be playing, okay?"

Your brow furrows. "Why?"

"Well, because then the match won't be any fun for anyone and we all play football because it's fun, don't we?"

You think about that for a moment. It makes sense. You love playing football. You can't imagine what it would be like for it not to be fun anymore. "Okay, I won't tell."

"You're a good secret keeper," Momma says," I have no doubts you'll do very well."

You puff out your chest in pride as the car comes to a stop and you all get out.

You don't really understand why you all have to check the pitch because it's the same every time but Momma and Morsa make you.

"Daan!" You cry out, immediately detaching yourself from Morsa to run over. You stumble a little bit before crashing into her arms.

"Hey there!" Daan laughs as she swings you around. You settle happily on her hip and she pulls a Freddo Frog out of her pocket that you munch happily on.

She walks you both over to a bigger group of Arsenal girls and you high five everyone.

"That's a nice shirt," Daan says, pulling it down from where it's ridden up," What does it mean?"

"Means I'm the Big Boss!" You boast, puffing out your chest," I'm the best Big Boss 'cause Momma and Morsa tells me so."

"Oh, wow," Daan says with the perfect amount of awe at your status," I wish we had a big boss."

You look around quickly and bite at your lip. Momma and Morsa made you promise not to blab about Not-Wolfsburg tactics to Arsenal but they said nothing about helping them.

"I can be your Big Boss!" You say," But you have to ask my Momma and Morsa 'cause I'm only little and they still make lots of my choices."

Daan laughs but brings you over to where Momma and Morsa are milling about on the other side of the pitch.

"Momma," You say because you know she's more likely to give you what you want," Can I be the Big Boss for Arsenal today?"

She seems to catch on to what you're doing because she shrugs. "I don't know. Why don't you ask your Morsa?"

"Morsa, please?"

"Trying to pinch my daughter, van de Donk?" Morsa says," That's low."

Daan shrugs. "I'll give her back?"

"See that you do." Morsa presses a kiss to your forehead before letting Daan take you away.

You make sure to be just as firm as you always are because Coach Emma always tells you that being firm is the best way to get a team to play good so, just because you love Arsenal, doesn't mean you go easy on them.

"Run! Run! Run!" You order," Hurry up! Stop being slow!"

You cross your arms over your chest firmly and stamp your foot on the ground.

"Faster!" You yell," Or my Morsa's gonna catch you and she's not going to let you win!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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burst-of-iridescent · 3 months

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South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 2)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

Part 1

In the previous post, I discussed some of the things ATLA got right in its depictions of desi and hindu cultures. unfortunately, they also got plenty of things wrong - often in ways that leaned towards racist caricatures - so let's break them down, starting with...

Guru Pathik

both the word "guru" and name "pathik" come from sanskrit. pathik means "traveler" or "he who knows the way" while guru is a term for a guide or mentor, similar to a teacher.

gurus were responsible for the very first education systems in ancient india, setting up institutions called gurukuls. students, referred to as disciples, would often spend years living with and learning from their gurus in these gurukuls, studying vedic and buddhist texts, philosophy, music and even martial arts.

however, their learning was not limited merely to academic study, as gurus were also responsible for guiding the spiritual evolution of their disciples. it was common for disciples to meditate, practice yoga, fast for days or weeks, and complete mundane household chores every day in order to instill them with self-discipline and help them achieve enlightenment and spiritual awareness. the relationship between a guru and his disciple was considered a sacred, holy bond, far exceeding that of a mere teacher and student.

aang's training with guru pathik mirrors some of these elements. similar to real gurus, pathik takes on the role of aang's spiritual mentor. he guides aang in unblocking his chakras and mastering the avatar state through meditation, fasting, and self-reflection - all of which are practices that would have likely been encouraged in disciples by their gurus.

pathik's design also takes inspiration from sadhus, holy men who renounced their worldly ties to follow a path of spiritual discipline. the guru's simple, nondescript clothing and hair are reflective of the ascetic lifestyle sadhus are expected to lead, giving up material belongings and desires in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and, ultimately, liberation from the reincarnation cycle.

unfortunately, this is where the respectful references end because everything else about guru pathik was insensitive at best and stereotypical at worst.

it is extremely distasteful that the guru speaks with an overexaggerated indian accent, even though the iranian-indian actor who plays him has a naturally british accent. why not just hire an actual indian voice actor if the intention was to make pathik sound authentic? besides, i doubt authenticity was the sole intention, given that the purposeful distortion of indian accents was a common racist trope played for comedy in early 2000s children's media (see: phineas and ferb, diary of a wimpy kid, jessie... the list goes on).

furthermore, while pathik is presented a wise and respected figure within this episode, his next (and last) appearance in the show is entirely the opposite.

in the episode nightmares and daydreams, pathik appears in aang's nightmare with six hands, holding what appears to be a veena (a classical indian music instrument). this references the iconography of the hindu deity Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom and knowledge. the embodiment of divine enlightenment, learning, insight and truth, Saraswati is a member of the Tridevi (the female version of the Trimurti), one of the most respected and revered goddesses in the Hindu pantheon... and her likeness is used for a cheap laugh on a character who's already treated as a caricature.

that's bad enough on its own, but when you consider that guru pathik is the only explicitly south asian coded character in the entire show, it's downright insulting. for a show that took so many of its foundational concepts from south asia and hinduism and yet provided almost no desi representation in return, this is just rubbing salt in the wound.

Chakras

"chakra", meaning "circle" or "wheel of life" in sanskrit, refers to sources of energy found in the human body. chakra points are aligned along the spine, with energy flowing from the lowest to the highest point. the energy pooled at the lowest chakra is called kundalini, and the aim is to release this energy to the highest chakra in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and consciousness.

the number of chakras varies in different religions, with buddhism referencing five chakras while hinduism has seven. atla draws from the latter influence, so let's take a look at the seven chakras:

Muladhara (the Root Chakra). located at the base of the spine, this chakra deals with our basest instincts and is linked to the element of earth.

Swadhisthana (the Sacral Chakra). located just below the navel, this chakra deals with emotional intensity and pleasure and is linked to the element of water.

Manipura (the Solar Plexus Chakra). located in the stomach, this chakra deals with willpower and self-acceptance and is linked to the element of fire.

Anahata (the Heart Chakra). located in the heart, this chakra deals with love, compassion and forgiveness and is linked to the element of air. in the show, this chakra is blocked by aang's grief over the loss of the air nomads, which is a nice elemental allusion.

Vishudda (the Throat Chakra). located at the base of the throat, this chakra deals with communication and honesty and is linked to the fifth classical element of space. the show calls this the Sound Chakra, though i'm unsure where they got that from.

Ajna (the Third Eye Chakra). located in the centre of the forehead, this chakra deals with spirituality and insight and is also linked to the element of space. the show calls it the Light Chakra, which is fairly close.

Sahasrara (the Crown Chakra). located at the very top of the head, this chakra deals with pure cosmic consciousness and is also linked to the element of space. it makes perfect sense that this would be the final chakra aang has to unblock in order to connect with the avatar spirit, since the crown chakra is meant to be the point of communion with one's deepest, truest self.

the show follows these associations and descriptions almost verbatim, and does a good job linking the individual chakras to their associated struggles in aang's arc.

Cosmic Energy

the idea of chakras is associated with the concept of shakti, which refers to the life-giving energy that flows throughout the universe and within every individual.

the idea of shakti is a fundamentally unifying one, stating that all living beings are connected to one another and the universe through the cosmic energy that flows through us all. this philosophy is referenced both in the swamp episode and in guru pathik telling aang that the greatest illusion in the world is that of separation - after all, how can there be any real separation when every life is sustained by the same force?

this is also why aang needing to let go of katara did not, as he mistakenly assumed, mean he had to stop loving her. rather, the point of shedding earthly attachment is to allow one to become more attuned to shakti, both within oneself and others. ironically, in letting go of katara and allowing himself to commune with the divine energy of the universe instead, aang would have been more connected to her - not less.

The Avatar State

according to hinduism, there are five classical elements known as pancha bhuta that form the foundations of all creation: air, water, earth, fire, and space/atmosphere.

obviously, atla borrows this concept in making a world entirely based on the four classical elements. but looking at how the avatar spirit is portrayed as a giant version of aang suspended in mid-air, far above the earth, it's possible that this could reference the fifth liminal element of space as well.

admittedly this might be a bit of a reach, but personally i find it a neat piece of worldbuilding that could further explain the power of the avatar. compared to anyone else who might be able to master only one element, mastering all five means having control of every building block of the world. this would allow the avatar to be far more attuned to the spiritual energy within the universe - and themselves - as a result, setting in motion the endless cycle of death and rebirth that would connect their soul even across lifetimes.

#atla #atla cultural influences #hinduism in atla #welp i thought this would be the last part but i ended up having more to talk about than i thought #so i'll save the book 3 inspirations for the next post #including my absolute favourite combustion man #and by favourite i mean kill it with fire why did you ever think this was okay to do writers

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flutterbyoz · 4 days

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It seems there are still some people out there who wish to belittle, disregard and reject Michonne's importance to Rick. So for those who seem to have such a problem with Rick and Michonne let me just say:

This is Michonne Grimes

She is everything to Rick Grimes. His partner, his lover, his confidant, his best friend, his saviour, the mother of his children, his sun, moon and stars, she is his wife, his soulmate and the love of his life. She is his entire universe, his reason for everything and he would choose her in any life and any universe.

Contrary to what I've seen some people say, Rick would not walk away from Michonne if Lori miraculously returned from the dead, he would not do so if Jessie came back either. Had Lori or Jessie lived, Rick and Michonne still would have found their way to each other because they are meant to be, in any lifetime and in any and all versions of reality.

Rick is the man who didn't think of moving on even after 8 years, who wrote love letters and dreamt about her to keep himself going, and lets not forget what he had to do just to be able to go on without her. And for Michonne, she couldn't truly believe he was gone despite the fact she saw the bridge he was stood on literally explode, she kept believing and searching for years, never moved on and went through hell to find him again.

The Walking Dead and especially The Ones Who Live have made it exceptionally clear what their relationship is, how important they are to each other, how deep and unbreakable their love is and how they would go to the ends of the earth for each other. Not everyone is going to feel a connection to Richonne, I get that and I'm not trying to say otherwise (despite the fact I don't think I'll ever understand how anyone can watch their love story and not fall completely in love with their love!) but canon is canon, you can not feel a connection to them and still respect their story and acknowledge that they are 'it' for each other. To disregard that is to ignore their whole story.

Michonne Grimes is Rick Grimes one true love, she is his whole world, she and their children are his priority, he will put them before anyone else, and yes, even above Daryl. So, while we are all entitled to an opinion no one can really deny that Rick and Michonne are completely and utterly head over heels in love, someone's personal view of them as a couple does not change that fact.

This is THE couple of The Walking Dead and IMO the best couple to have ever graced the screen. They are everything to me and they are everything to each other

#the ones who live #the walking dead #richonne #rick x michonne #michonne grimes #rick grimes #twd towl #towl #true love #my otp forever #soulmates #rick x michonne grimes

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kennedyawfc · 2 months

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forever together || J.Fleming21

chelseafcw just posted

liked by mbrighty04,samanthakerr20,yn/ln and 54,163 others

Chelsea Football Club can today confirm Jessie Fleming has completed a permanent transfer to Portland Thorns.✍️

Thank you for everything, @_JessFlem. Once a blue,always a blue.💙

zeciramusovic 🥺🫶🏻

yn/ln ❤️

fan3209 i wonder if yn will leave with her or stay with arsenal

| fan789 she might end up leaving with her, they’ve said a couple times how they both want to be closer to their families again?

arsenalwfc just posted

liked by bethmead_,alessia,katie_mccabe11,yn/ln and 56,0123 others

Arsenal Football Club can confirm yn/ln has completed a permanent transfer to Portland Thorns.

everyone at arsenal would like to thank and wish yn/ln the best of luck on her new journey.

once a gunner,always a gunner❤️.

yn/ln love you guys❤️thank you for everything. much love❤️❤️❤️gunner always

bethmead_ 🥺🥺gonna miss you,best of luck ynn❤️

| yn/ln ❤️love you lots beffy

leahwilliamsonn 🥺❤️

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_jessflem 🩶

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hugs for my favourite girl🫂🫂🫂

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yn/ln my love always🥰🥰

niamhcharles17 imy guys come back now😣

samanthakerr20 you don’t give me hugs🥺

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portland called,jessie and yn answered🌹

yn/ln ❤️❤️

(too lazy to do others😭)

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nine years and forever together to go❤️‍🩹my best friend,favourite girl and girlfriend all in one. i love you more and more everyday my love forever <3

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_jessflem forever together always❤️i love you so so much

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| niamhcharles17 yeah jflem when?

| samanthakerr20 💍jflem??

| yn/ln you lot are the worst.

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9 years together❤️and she said yes💍here’s to forever together beautiful girl🫂i love you more than words can describe <3

yn/ln i cannot wait to marry you🥺🫶🏻❤️forever together always

bethmead_ finally!! congrats to you both💗

niamhcharles17 so happy for you guys🥰i dips bridesmaid 🤝

a/n not the biggest fan of this but love jflem so yeh🌹

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #chelsea fc #chelsea women #portland thorns #jflem #woso blurbs #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #wsl #awfc x reader #nwsl #woso couples

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roanniom · 2 years

Text

The Shift

Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Read Part 2 Here

Summary: On a sweltering shift at family video, Steve Harrington gets on your nerves.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, Smut, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, PIV sex, semi-public sex, light degradation, enemies to lovers, slight period-correct sexism and homophobia from a customer

It’s positively sweltering inside Family Video today. The box fan on the front counter does absolutely nothing to cool you down, especially as the tension within you runs hotter than the outside sun itself.

You shouldn’t be here. Today was your day off and you’d had plans with your friends for a pool day to beat the heat, knowing that today was forecasted to be the hottest of the year so far. Instead, you’ve been roped in to cover for Robin. And as much as you love her, part of you kinda secretly hopes she chokes on the milkshake she’s probably enjoying on her date right about now.

You don’t really want her to choke of course. You’ve been hyping her up for her eventual first date with Vicki for a long time now. It warms your cold, dead, perennially single heart to see your friend getting something she’s really wanted. Something she never thought would happen for her, especially not in Hawkins, Indiana.

But Hawkins, Indiana is exactly where you wish you weren’t right now. You’d rather be somewhere cool. Somewhere with ice and a breeze and fresh air.

Somewhere without Steve Harrington.

“You’ve been hogging the fan all day, trainee. Come on, give another sweaty bastard a turn.”

Speak of the devil.

You turn and glare directly into the face of your nemesis. Okay, nemesis is a little bit of an exaggeration. You aren’t mortal enemies, perhaps, but you would love to smack his smug face. Just once.

“For the last time. Stop calling me that. I have been working here almost as long as you,” you huff, not bothering to move an inch out of the radius of the fan.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I am the one who trained you. Making you - eternally - my trainee,” Steve responds, elbowing his way around you and into the line of semi-cool air.

“I was literally hired a month after you.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I showed you the ropes.”

“Only because the manager spent the night passed out in the ditch behind the liquor store.” You finish reboxing your last rewound tape, clicking it closed with a definitive snap.

“Hey. Jessie’s doing really well in rehab these days. Give him a break.” Steve pulls the stocking cart up and around to the counter and reaches for the tapes you’d just stacked. You yank them away from his grasp and haul them over to the cart yourself.

“And by ‘showed you the ropes’ are you referring to the fact that you broke the label maker in front of me and taught me how to get free snacks out of the break room vending machine?” You start pushing the cart towards the comedy section, not bothering to wait for Steve’s response.

“Hey! You should be thanking me for every bag of Reese’s Pieces I see you scarfing each day.” Steve comes up jogging behind you, grabbing the copy of Weird Science out of your hand before you can shelve it.

“Shut up, Harrington. As if you aren’t slamming M&M’s by the bushel.” You try to reach for the tape but he holds it up out of your reach. Damn his stupid height.

“Don’t you dare act like M&M’s aren’t the superior candy.”

“They melt in your hand - ,”

“So do Reese’s Pieces!” Steve cries out, interrupting you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Steve. I forgot that a handful of goopy M&M’s are what helped E.T. assimilate to this planet,” you say, rolling your eyes and abandoning Weird Science to his grasp. Let him shelve the damn thing. You move on to the next aisle.

Steve, of course, follows behind.

“You and that stupid little alien.” Which of course makes you round on him, to which he throws Weird Science up in front of himself as a shield.

“E.T. is a seminal piece of filmmaking and Spielberg’s best work to date, so don’t you get started again -,”

“Oh bullshit. His best work?” Steve’s brow is furrowed darkly as if you’ve committed some irredeemable act instead of simply disagreeing with his film opinions.

“Um, excuse me? A little help here?” The voice of Ms. Jenkins, elderly and snippy, issues from the front counter where she stands with a handful of tapes. You give Steve a mean look and bound over to your solitary customer.

“Yes of course, let me ring you up, ma’am,” you say sweetly, making quick work of checking to make sure the tapes are rewound before scanning and reading off the total to her. You always have to double check that tapes are rewound because you sure as hell can’t be certain that Steve has done his job when that particular chore is on his list of responsibilities.

By the time Ms. Jenkins is out the door with her rentals, Steve’s pushed the cart to the shelves closest to the counter, lazily fingering the spines of the horror tapes in a bored pursuit of a particular alphabetic location.

“Jaws.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said Jaws.”

“What about Jaws?” you ask with a sigh, leaning your hip against the counter and crossing your arms.

“Spielberg’s best movie.”

“Grow up, Harrington.”

“Excuse me?!” Steve drops the tape he’s holding and rushes over to you with fists raised. “Are you suggesting there’s something childish about enjoying Jaws?”

“Maybe,” you shrug, noncommittal. You don’t actually believe that, you just have found yourself in this rhetorical hole with Steve before and you don’t really want to get into an actual discussion. That and you love riling him up. It’s easier than committing to a movie to pop into the vcr above the counter and just as entertaining.

“You…I just…ughh.” Steve seems at a loss for words as he grapples with your vague criticism as if it isn’t the thousandth time you’ve had this argument. “That movie is a mature, grown up cinematic masterpiece and I can prove it. Number one,” he holds up one finger. “It is gory as hell. There’s a fuck ton of blood.”

“Violence is your evidence of maturity, Harrington?”

Steve scoffs at you and lifts up a second finger.

“Number two, the score is iconic.” He hunches a little and starts stalking towards you slowly, predatorily. “Duuun uh, duuun uh, dun uh dun uh dun uh - ,”

“I know the score, Steve!” you speak over his crescendoing vocalization.

“Come on! That’s iconic!” You roll your eyes but nod.

“I mean yeah. You got me there.”

“Ahah!” Steve punches the air as if he’s one some massive victory rather than simply receiving your noncommittal agreement on one part of a larger argument. He holds up a third finger. “And to round us out with number three - tits.”

Exactly as he says ‘tits’ - proudly and loudly, you notice - an elderly gentleman walks into the store. He freezes in the doorway looking at the two of you, clearly affronted.

“Good afternoon, sir! Let us know if you need any help!” you hastily speak up, distancing yourself from Steve and plastering on a huge smile. The man harumphs and walks into the store, grumbling something about ‘kids these days.’ You turn and shoot daggers at a sheepish looking Steve.

“Tits? Really?” Your whisper comes out poisonous.

“What’s more mature than tits?” he asks, equally hushed.

“Obviously not you, moron.” You start making your way back to the cart but stop in your tracks, thinking. Instead, you turn back and whisper to him. “Wait…when are there tits in Jaws?”

~*~

Ten minutes later, after the disapproving customer had checked out, copy of Cocoon in hand (a little on the nose, something you tried not to laugh about as you rang him up), you and Steve both stand huddled near the tv hooked up to the VCR.

You’re watching the opening sequence, where two teens are giving each other eyes across the way at a bonfire party. It’s charged. It’s flirtatious. The girl gets up and heads towards the beach, the guy following in hot, drunken pursuit.

It’s a cute moment. A calm before the storm, you think, because of course you know better. You know what’s going to happen in just a few moments. But suspended in time, this couple’s cat and mouse game is sexy. It’s playful.

It’s not the point of the scene, but you feel yourself getting riled up. Not exactly turned on but…what’s the word? Yearning? Pathetic. It’s been a little too long since you’ve gotten any and the heat is getting you your head, you reason with yourself internally.

As the girl gets closer to the water she begins discarding her clothes in preparation for what everyone knows will be her final skinny dip. As she does so, Steve hurtles forward and hits the pause button, freezing her perfectly in time as her shirt comes over her head revealing the silhouette of heavy breasts, mid swing.

“Tits!” Steve cries out, pointing directly at the revealed breasts on screen. “I fucking told you.”

“What do you want, Steve? A cookie?” You make sure your face stays neutral. You don’t want to give away the fact that the sexual implications of the scene have you all hot and bothered. Harrington doesn’t deserve that information.

“You said there weren’t any tits in Jaws.”

“I asked when were there tits in Jaws. I apologize that a pair of movie breasts didn’t imprint chemically in my brain the way they did for you.”

“I’m sorry. When did the prude switch shifts with the trainee? I didn’t get the memo.” Steve says haughtily, ejecting the tape from the VCR and putting it back in its case. Your jaw drops at his words but he pays you no mind, walking back to reshelf the movie. You run after him.

“I’m not a fucking prude, Harrington.”

“Oh I know you’re not. That’s what I’m getting at.” Steve slots Jaws back in its place and heads back towards the break room.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you demand, hot on his trail.

“I’m at the same parties you go to, trainee. I’m not blind. You like to have a good time.” He shrugs, walking up to the beaten old vending machine. It’s much hotter here in the back room than it was out on the main floor, probably due to the lack of windows and fans. Steve kicks the corner of the vending machine and raps his knuckles against the side panel before reaching to type the code for the M&M’s. You lunge forward and beat him to it, slamming your finger down on a different button. “Fuck! Seriously?!”

“You’re really going to slut shame me? Here at work?” You ask, snatching the packet of Reese’s Pieces as it falls into the dispenser tray.

“The pot is very much calling the kettle black here, don’t you think?” Steve kicks the corner of the machine and taps the side again, but instead of beeping in recognition, the machine stays dormant. You pop a candy in your mouth smugly as Steve grunts in frustration.

“I’m not the whore of Hawkins, Harrington. But that might be a title with which you can identify.”

“Nice alliteration, brainiac.” Steve kicks the machine harder this time. Clearly with more malicious intent towards the hulking appliance rather than with the strategy of overriding the payment mechanism.

“You know about alliteration? You didn’t skip that lesson in English class to fondle a bimbo under the bleachers?” You pop another candy in your mouth and fan yourself. The heat is starting to get to you. It is suffocating in this room. Your collar is stuck to your neck and you grab at the front of your shirt, billowing it out to try and stimulate an internal breeze. You look up and find Steve staring at the place where your hand pulls at your clothes, but he’s quick to look away, shoving a hand through his messy hair.

“Oh yeah? I’m not the one pushing my tits together whenever a slightly attractive guy comes in. I swear I saw you almost put your hand down the pants of that ex-football loser who came in here looking for fucking Flash Gordon for the tenth time.”

You gasp at his audacity. Because how dare he say that to you but also because it is objectively untrue. You had lightly flirted with the man, sure. You were bored and he had broad shoulders. Sue you. But Steve has no right to any sort of commentary.

“I’m sorry Mr. This-way-to-the-romance-section-and-while-we’re-at-it-why-don’t-you-come-watch-it-at-my-place Harrington. A blonde with big boobs so much as thinks about walking in here and your eyes are popping out of your head and your tongue is trailing on the floor.”

“You’re using the description of a horny cartoon character to describe me? Nice. Real nice.” Steve bangs on the side of the machine with his fist one more time and you let out a groan.

“Stop beating up the vending machine, for fuck’s sake. Here!” You reach into your pocket and grab a dollar, thrusting it into his face. Steve swats your hand away.

“I have money, trainee.” He reaches into his own pocket and fishes out a dollar which he proceeds to jam unceremoniously into the slot.

You drop yourself into one of the seats at the lunch table and grab for a magazine to fan yourself with.

“Well if you’re so loaded, why are you always stealing snacks?”

Steve ignores you, punching in the correct code this time. When another packet of Reese’s Pieces drops instead of the M&Ms he’d asked for, he lets out massive cry of frustration.

“What the fuck?”

“Well that’s the funniest thing I’ve seen all day,” you say, crossing your arms in your seat and biting your lip to keep from smiling widely.

“What the FUCK!”

“Maybe it’s karma, for being such an asshole to me,” you shrug. Steve whips around, shooting you daggers.

“I’ve had it about up to here with you today, trainee.” He stalks over to the water cooler and rips out a little cone paper cup, accidentally pulling out three too many in the process. You continue fanning yourself with the magazine languidly.

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry dad.”

Steve actually barks a laugh at that and looks at you over his shoulder, filling the paper cup with room temp water.

“You’re not the first to make that association.”

“Oh gross, Harrington. I didn’t ask for insight into your sex life,” you pretend to gag.

Steve knocks back the water and crushes the paper cone in his fist, tossing it over his shoulder as he goes to join you at the table. You are positively irked to notice that he makes it perfectly into the trash without even looking.

“That’s not what I meant but I’m not opposed to being called daddy, fyi,” he says, winking at you.

“I’m sure you’re not. Seems right up your alley.” Your words are derisive but you can’t help the breathless quality they take on. It must be a side effect of this fucking heat. You’re not taking in air properly.

“Yeah? Well I’ll bet you’re really mean between the sheets.”

“Oh you’ll bet that?” you ask with a snort, trying to ignore the paradoxical shiver that runs through your body at the implication.

“Yeah. You seem to derive a sick pleasure from giving me a hard time. Wouldn’t be shocked if insults turn you on.”

“Not a super fan of being degraded, Steve. Sorry to burst your bubble,” you reply lightly. Like his suggestion didn’t just add a palpitation to your heart beat. Steve bites his lip contemplatively.

“Well I really meant that I think you like being the one to dish out the insults,” he clarifies. But then he’s leaning closer to you across the table, a smirk spreading across his face as he takes in the way your posture is scrunching defensively. “But actually now that I think of it…I feel like you probably would like being degraded.”

“Excuse me?” you exhale sharply, realizing you’d been holding your breath as his proximity increased.

“You’re a perfectionist. A good girl, or you are most of the time, as we’ve established.” Steve’s finger slides across the table towards you and your gaze locks on its approaching motion. “I could see you looking for an excuse to let go of all that pressure. To be bad.”

You’ve stopped breathing again, mesmerized by his slow words and the trajectory of his sliding finger. Then suddenly he’s reaching out and snatching the half empty bag of Reese’s Pieces from your grasp, upending it in the air above his face and crunching down on the remaining candy.

“Hey!” you cry out, lunging for him only to be stopped by his defensive hand outstretching and catching you, holding you an arm length away. Steve makes a face.

“It’s a crime that this is peanut butter instead of chocolate.”

You grab him by the front of the shirt and get very close to him, glaring up into his stupid, pretty face.

“You’ll pay for that, Steve Harrington.”

“Yeah? How?” he asks. His eyes are looking down into yours, the remnants of his smirk slowly fading from his face. The heat is sweltering. Hotter than it’s been during your entire shift and you really should run out the front door for some air before you pass out but…you’re rooted to the spot.

You inhale in order to respond - not even sure of what you’ll say once the words start flowing - but you’re immediately interrupted by the ding of the bell on the front door.

“Hello? Anybody here?”

The customer’s voice cuts through the tension between you and you let go of Steve’s shirt like it’s on fire.

“Just a minute!” you call out in your sing-song-y customer service voice. You hear Steve groan behind you but you don’t give him a second thought as you dash out onto the floor of the store.

The same grumpy man from earlier stands at the counter, grumpier than ever and brandishing his tape towards you.

“I got all the way home just to realize that the wrong tape is in this blasted box.” He wrenches open the case for Cocoon to reveal a copy of Tootsie. You try not to laugh at his absurdly wounded expression and grab the tape from him.

“I am so sorry, sir, we’ll get this sorted for you,” you assure, turning around to let out a silent chuckle. You shuffle through the bare tapes on the counter and find the correct one, silently cursing Steve for his disorganization.

“This is unacceptable, young lady,” the old man grumbles as you put the Cocoon tape in its box.

“Everyone makes mistakes, unfortunately.”

“I expect a higher quality of service. I fought on D Day, you know.”

“We did not know that, thank you for your service,” Steve mumbles sarcastically coming up beside you behind the counter. The man doesn’t catch his facetiousness and wags a fervent finger.

“That’s right. I should be treated with some respect.”

“Without a doubt,” Steve replies. You silently snap the tape box closed and hand it over, trying not to look annoyed.But the man doesn’t take it from you. Instead he points over at the stack of tapes where you had placed the copy of Tootsie.

“She tried to give me a movie with a man in a dress,” he accuses and you scoff. Steve glances over, clocking which movie it is and no doubt realizing that the mistake was his own.

“Well, I’ll be honest with you, she was doing you a favor, because Dustin Hoffman is just a delight - ,”

“As her manager, I think you should fire her,” the man interrupts Steve.

“Excuse me?” you ask, shocked at his audacity. Steve holds his hands up in a time out symbol.

“First of all, I’m not her manager, and second of all. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She gave me a fruity movie!” the man cries out.

“Ok then,” you push away from the counter and head towards the back room, completely done with this interaction.

“Sir, fruit is delicious,” Steve argues, distracted as he watches you stalk off to the back, anxious to follow. The old man wags his finger even more violently.

“I’ll be telling the owner, just you wait. Do you take me for a fruit, young man?” he raises his voice.

“Yeah a raisin, sir. Please get out of my store.” Steve’s voice lowers in tone, but the authority in it increases tenfold. “Now.”

~*~

Steve finds you pacing around the break room, a paper water cone crushed in your hand. He approaches to comfort you, but the second he enters, you round on him.

“How could you do that to me?”

“Do what? Defend you?” Steve’s bewildered by your reaction, hands up in the air in front of himself defensively.

“I wouldn’t need defending if you weren’t such a fuck up at your job, Steve.” You flail a hand in the direction of the front counter.

“You said it yourself that everyone makes mistakes.”

“I was lying, Harrington. I don’t make mistakes. You make enough for the both of us.” You go to turn away from him but he grabs your elbow.

“Oh what, and you’re Ms. Fucking Perfect? Huh?” You wrench your elbow out his grasp.

“In comparison to you? Hell yeah.”

“That’s rich,” Steve barks out a laugh, running a hand through the hair at the back of his head. His stance squares off with you and he too points out toward the front counter. “How many times have I had to save you from customers who are asking for films you’ve never fucking heard about?”

“Shut up, Steve,” you roll your eyes and Steve gets more emphatic.

“How many times have I had to come stop some creep who’s being weird to you?”

“Oh fuck you. My hero. My white knight, scaring away the big bad men,” you say in a mocking tone. You cross your arms over your chest and for the first time since walking into the back room Steve notices that you have unbuttoned a large portion of the top buttons on your shirt, probably due to the heat. With your arms folded over your chest, he can see your cleavage and he swallows. You notice and drop your arms with a scoff. “You fucking pervert. You’re no better than the rest of them!”

“What? What?!” Steve blusters, trying to play off the fact that you caught him staring.

“You’re a fucking horn dog, that’s what.”

“Oh please.” He turns around with a dismissive laugh and you step forward to follow him, staying in his space.

“You know what I think? I think the reason you give me a hard time is because I never gave you the time of day,” you declare, putting your hands on your hips. The heat is rising within you now. The air is stifling and electric around you as Steve takes an angry step closer to you and you feel crackling as if you’re in the middle of a heat lightning storm.

“Well you’re way off base with that theory, trainee,” Steve bites out. He’s smirking at you. Goddamn smirking at you as if he’s got the upperhand in spite of what you’ve just accused him of.

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because I know you asked Robin if I was single when you first started working here,” he says smugly. He folds his arms across his own chest now and you curse your fucking eyes because they widen while taking in the way his biceps now look. Large and defined as his sleeves shift up.

“So? That doesn’t prove anything. Maybe I just wanted to know if you were cheating on a girlfriend with all the flirting you insist on doing,” you manage to reply coolly. But Steve’s shaking his head before you even finish your statement.

“I believe your words were - and I quote - ‘Is Steve single? Because he’s hot as fuck. I’d let that boy bend me over the break room table’.” His voice takes on a high pitched mocking quality as he approximates your tone.

Your eyes blow wide and your jaw drops to the floor.

“Robin, that bitch.”

“Don’t blame Robin for your horny fantasies, trainee.” He’s got a smile on his face that you just want to slap off. Your fingers flex at your sides but you hold yourself back, taking a deep breath.

“Then you don’t blame her for the fact that she told me you get a semi every time I wear these jeans?”

Steve’s eyes practically bug out of his head and dart down to look at the jeans in question. You quirk an eye up, your turn to smile.

“I - what? No!”

“So she lied? This doesn’t do it for you?” you ask, turning slightly and leaning on the back of a chair so that your ass stuck out a little, accentuating your curves. Steve’s gaze drops to your ass before pinballing all the way around the room, desperately looking at anything and everything other than you.

“That’s not…you’re full of…”

“No, you’re full of it, Harrington. Admit it,” you say, straightening up and pointing at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, standing a little straighter and looking at you now that you’re no longer presenting your ass to him.

“You find me irresistable,” you accuse. Steve laughs loudly and without humor.

“And yet here I am. Perfectly capable of resisting,” he says, standing his ground. “Meanwhile you’re practically throwing yourself at me.”

“You fucking wish!”

“In your dreams.”

“In my nightmares.”

The next few seconds seem to play out, paradoxically, both sped up and in slow motion. The heat fills the space around you, almost thick enough to cushion the air. And then Steve’s body is hurtling towards yours. Or yours towards his - you can’t be sure. All you are aware of is movement and then contact. The woosh of air and then the solidness of impact.

Steve’s hands are on your waist, pulling your body against his as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are in his hair before you can even think about it, your movements automatic and entirely involuntary as far as you’re concerned. Fingers fisting in his locks you kick yourself internally because they feel exactly like you thought they would. Fucking pretty haired pretty boy.

His tongue is at the seam of your lips, forcing your mouth open ruthlessly and you comply, allowing him to sweep inside. Steve turns his head to the side, deepening the kiss and pushing down into you until you feel yourself being folded back, his hand sliding to your tailbone to support you through the dip.

When he pulls away, both of you gasping for air, he doesn’t move far, instead dipping to suck biting kisses against your throat.

“You gonna tell me to stop?”

His words don’t make any sense as they enter your hazy brain. One of your hands drops to his shoulder, grasping. Clinging really as he delivers a particularly rough suck to the place beneath your ear.

“W-what?”

“If you hate me so much this must be torture for you,” he breathes into your skin. The smugness has returned to his voice, muted though it is against your throat.

“I fucking hate you, Harrington,” you seethe. He’s laughing now against your throat.

“I know, that’s what I just said - ,”

You cut him off by roughly grabbing him by the hair and bringing him back to your lips. The moan he looses into your mouth has you humming with a satisfaction that seeps deep down into your core. He’s not getting the upper hand so easily. Not if you have anything to say about it.

Now on a single-minded mission to ruin him, you reach down and splay your hand out against his lower back, rolling your hips forward in tandem with the motion in order to grind your pelvis against his. He lets out a groan that you feel in your extremities, so you repeat the move.

Suddenly the hands that are on your waist drop to your hips and wrench you around so your back is to him. The twirl disorients you and you gasp, blinking at the back of the break room and panting as Steve’s hands pull you back - ass against his pelvis.

He slaps a hand on the back of your thigh - making you whine - and slides up your curve to grip a handful of your ass.

“I’ll be the bigger person,” he says with a heavy chuckle into your ear. “I can admit these jeans do it for me.”

A laugh rocks through your body in spite of yourself.

“Oh yeah? They giving you a semi?” you ask jokingly. Steve pulls you back against him, hips bracketing your ass, and you feel him pressing into you. Hard. Nothing semi about it.

“What do you think?” His voice is gruff now, his lower half grinding slowly, deliberately into yours.

“I think you’re hard,” you say on an exhale. His laugh is full throated and his grip on your hips tighten.

“Very observant, trainee. A+ work.” His face buries itself into the crook between your neck and shoulder, lips toying with the skin there.

“Don’t call me trainee.” Your voice is breathless but for once there is no menace in it when you say the sentence you’ve yelled at him a million times.

“No? What should I call you then?” His lips are at your ear. His fingertips dig into your hips and push you back into him. Making you feel him. “Baby? Darling?”

You let out a gasping laugh when he bucks into you from behind, knocking you off balance a bit so you have to lean forward and grasp the edge of the table. He follows you down, chest still against your back.

“...slut?”

You’d love it if your response was to laugh in his face. To pry his hands off of you, straighten up your clothes, and walk out the door. But that’s not what happens.

You moan.

He says the word and you moan.

It’s dark and filthy and you feel hot shame the minute it issues from your mouth, but the way his fingers tense immediately has got heat pooling directly between your thighs.

“Holy shit.”

“I…that doesn’t…”

“Holy shit!” His words are laughing and victorious and he’s nuzzling his face over your shoulder even as you try to crouch away. “I fucking called it.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” you argue, even as your back arches slightly and find yourself rocking back into him. His hand slides over the slope of your hip to the front of your jeans.

“You moaned, trainee. I called you a slut and you moaned.” Steve’s hand cups your mound then, middle finger pressing up into the center seam of your jeans.

“F-fuck…” You swivel your hips to grind down into his hand, suddenly getting a taste of the friction you’d begun to crave.

Steve uses his hand between your legs to ground you against him, giving him leverage with which to rub his hard-on directly into your ass.

“You can lie all you want. Calling you a slut is making you writhe for me…like a cute little slut.”

You huff out an exhale and look over your shoulder at him.

“Is it the word or the fact that you’re practically fingering me through my jeans and humping me? Which is it, Steve?”

His cocky smile only widens and he shoots forward to steal a kiss over your shoulder since you’re looking at him.

“Both?”

“Oh christ, Harrington…” you trail off as his hand slides up and starts opening your jeans.

“You do have a point though…” he says, biting his lip in concentration. He yanks your jeans down over your ass, leaving them bunched around your knees. His hand cups you through your underwear before yanking them to the side, fingers sweeping directly over your wet slit as you shiver. “Through the jeans wasn’t that efficient.”

“Pretty boy worries about efficiency?” you ask derisively. His finger has found your clit with no problem and your knees are feeling weaker by the second, but you definitely aren’t going to go easy on him.

“Being pretty isn’t the only thing I’m good at, you know,” he says with humor. You find the wherewithal to reach back and peel his other hand off your hip, bringing it to close around your breast. Steve intakes breath sharply.

“Same,” you reply with a smirk. He gropes you experimentally through your shirt before rooting underneath the hem to find your bra-clad breast.

“So you think you’re pretty?” he taunts.

“You do.”

“I think you’re pretty or I think I’m pretty?” Steve asks, pulling your breast out of the cup and pinching your nipple just as he sinks a finger into your pussy.

“Fuck…the first one…both…just shut up,” you grit out and arch your back.

“I knew you’d been mean to me,” Steve quips before sinking his teeth lightly into your shoulder.

“Steve, do you want to fuck me?” you ask, voice tinged with annoyance. His head shoots over your shoulder to try and get a look at your face.

“I can fuck you?” He sounds like an enthusiastic puppy dog and your heart lurches in spite of itself.

“Not if you keep making fun of me, you can’t,” you say, though there’s humor in the words.

“Ahh, you can dish it but you can’t take it. I get it. That’s cool.” Steve’s tone is casual. The exact opposite of his actions as he slowly adds another finger into your dripping channel. You keen forward, both from the force of the pleasure and from the way your reaction makes him grind his dick even harder against your ass.

“Um…Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“So…are you going to fuck me?”

Your question makes him laugh and has his hips stuttering against you.

“Eager to make the fantasy of me bending you over this table a reality?”

“No. Eager to fast forward to the part where you wake up having creamed your pj’s thinking of me,” you retort, this time with a massive smile on your face as you recall the story you’d been told about Steve’s wet dreams. Steve groans.

“Fucking Robin,” he says, letting go of your breast to reach down and open his own pants.

“She’s the worst,” you agree. The anticipation is mounting and sweat drips off your brow. You’d down on your elbows now, bent over the table, and you can’t see Steve behind you, but you can hear the rustle of clothing. He yanks your jeans and underwear down to your ankles suddenly and you yelp and he nudges your thighs open so your legs are spread hip-width apart.

You wait a few breathless heart beats until the sound of skin on skin - which does not include your own - has you looking over your shoulder.

Steve is standing behind you, his own pants pooled at his feet, with his cock in his hand. He’s gripping it, giving it long, slow strokes as his eyes hungrily consume your half-bare body.

“I…think you might kill me,” he says seriously, dragging his eyes up from your pussy to your face. You gesture down to the cock he is fisting, eyeing the size.

“Back at you.”

He laughs at your response and heat rushes through you at how beautiful he looks with the smile cracking his face wide. You want him. Now.

So you turn back around and bend yourself over the table again, shifting side to side to sway your ass at him enticingly.

Steve’s on you not even a second later. His hands smooth over your hips and waist and his cock slides between your legs, between your folds.

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He’s repeating the phrase over and over under his breath and you’d laugh but you’re feeling similarly speechless. Impatient now, you reach back and take his cock in your hand, making him hiss. You arch and lean forward, guiding his tip into you until his hands grip your hips and he steps forward, slipping in inch by inch.

“Oh fuck,” you both swear, practically in unison. Steve remains still for a second to let you adjust, and also to ground himself as he takes in all of what is happening in this moment.

You find yourself nearly shaking from the feel of him inside you. He feels so good and it’s been a long, empty summer so far. Of course you’re horny, you reason with yourself in your head as you shift forward, trying to entice him to move, which he does. He’s hot and you’re horny and and it feels good. It feeels good.

“Yeah? Feels good?”

Shit. You’ve been speaking your thoughts out loud. You go to contradict him - to take it back - but then he’s kissing your neck and you can’t help but hum.

“Yeah. It’s good.”

He finds a steady pace before the his words return again, this time more hoarse than before.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groans out, thrusting into you particularly hard. Feeling sweat slick your skin you laugh.

“It’s because there’s no fan in here.”

“Oh, she’s shy about compliments suddenly,” Steve intuits and you roll your eyes, though he can’t see it. “She knows she’s hot but doesn’t want me to point it out?”

“Steve…” you warn, but there’s little else you can do as he reaches a hand down to the apex of your thighs and starts fingering your clit. You grip numbly at the table.

“Yeah, baby? You want me to stop talking about your incredible body?” he teases, his other hand coming down flat over your back to push you further down into the table before reclaiming your hip. “How good it feels to be inside you?”

“You’re a cocky bastard,” you say, but it comes out in a whine. You’re record-breakingly close to cumming and your brain and body seem disconnected. Unsure of what to do about the short circuiting feeling of shame and pleasure and annoyance and fondness, all of which are completely Steve’s fault.

“You’ve got that right, sweetheart,” he responds, inhaling sharply when you clench around him in response. “What’s that? So you like being called sweetheart?”

“Mmmm,” is all you manage to moan out, though he takes it correctly as an affirmation. He has both hands gripping your waist now, allowing nothing to distract him from pounding into you, chasing his own release now while also rocketing you towards your own.

“So you do like a little sweetness after all.” It’s teasing but you’re too fucked out to care at this point. So close. So close. Steve’s kissing the spot under your ear as he slows down to fuck you harder. Deeper. “Good thing I like it sweet. That’s how I’ve always wanted to be with you, sweetheart.”

Is it cheesy? Yes. Is it something that usually would have you slapping him and walking away? Yes.

But now you’re cumming. Crying out his name as his cock slides into you, your walls bearing down and spasming around him.

You don’t even know where your orgasm ends and his begins, you’re so blinded by pleasure. But he’s shaking around you and his hips are stuttering and then his weight is pressing you into the table as he pants.

There’s a split second where your shared breathe is all you can sense. His skin on yours has you buzzing and your muscles are jelly. You don’t even have a moment to think about repercussions or right or wrong. There’s just…Steve.

And then the bell rings in the distance indicating someone has entered the front door.

“Hellooo!” Comes Robin’s sing song voice. “Do my sad single friends want to hear how my date went?”

~*~

Read Part 2 Here

Steve / Stranger Things tag list (some of these are assumptions based on your interactions with my posts about my steve fic, so sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged!): @boomhauer @asbisexualasitgets @bluetreecloud20 @flightless-b1rds let-my-ship-sail @fandomsimper @livlovelaughh @maggiemaes-stuff @adultnitemares @wonderfulw0rldx @bellaiscool @halolani supe-r-nova r4nd0mf4nd0mz25 spookyreidd cmlover101 coolestgirlhere jadenswifey22 ashleighjadecharlton everybodywantstobetouched uhcastiels monsterhighprincess99 misaamaneswifey steveharringtonsdaddy getoutandtouchtherain alexxavicry craze4bau sabrinablack194 iseultult devonisntreal navybluebitch macey730 izbot6 sweetkyotto @millenialcatlady creme-delacreme s-trawberryv-eins amatchinwater vamdevil xoxchanxl mrssharrington edwardmunsn moonyscardigans wayward-rose

#steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington/you #steve harrington x fem!reader #fem!reader

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megalony · 6 days

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Resemblance- Part 4

This is the latest part of my Evan Buckley series, thank you all for such amazing feedback.

I hope you're ready for this!

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

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Series Masterlist

Summary: When Evan introduces (Y/n) to Eddie, she resembles someone he used to know. And he can't help himself when he's around her, leading to frightening behaviour.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to prize it out of you?"

Evan hung his head down and tensed his shoulders, leaning his weight forward onto his arms while his hands planted down on the counter. He could feel his spine clicking into place while his weight shifted from foot to foot.

He never knew how to stand or how to act when Maddie gave him that look. Her big sister look. Her elder sibling look. The look that had changed into a knowing, motherly look since she'd had Jee. It was an expression that made Evan feel like he was sixteen years old all over again, making mistakes and only trying to hide them from his sister.

Her opinion and her views of Evan were the only ones he cared about. He had grown up disappointing his parents, just being in the room seemed to disappoint them. But he strived to make Maddie proud, she was the only person in his family that he cared about.

And right now, when he could feel her gaze burning into him and he knew those brows were raised and her lips were pursed, he felt like melting on the spot. He felt like babbling and spilling everything out to her to see if she could make some sense out of all this.

"Buck, what's going on?" Maddie slid a steaming cup of coffee across the counter and curled her hands around her own signature cup which had Mrs Han painted across the side in italics. A wedding present from a friend.

This would be their third cup of coffee each, but who was counting?

Coffee was the best Maddie could do when she knew her brother was due on shift in an hour. Otherwise she would have cracked open the bottle of red wine in the fridge and poured away until her little brother finally spilled what was on his mind.

He and (Y/n) had been here for almost two hours now and Maddie could tell something wasn't right. And she didn't want to ask (Y/n) what was wrong and risk making her nervous when this was the first time (Y/n) had come over to her house.

They had all had a chat, enjoyed spilling some gossip together and Maddie got to know (Y/n) better. But now, with (Y/n) being stolen away into the living room with Jee, Maddie finally had a chance to ask Evan what was going on.

"Chim said you and Eddie had a fight at the station last week, like, a proper fight. That's never happened before, it must be serious."

Maddie wished her husband had known more. She wished Chimney had all the gossip so she didn't have to ask Evan what was going on. She would of had time to think and come up with ways to help and some solutions if Chimney had delved into things at work. But she understood that he didn't want to be nosey and he couldn't outright ask Bobby what was going on when the Captain made it clear that this was a personal issue, not for everyone to know.

But Maddie had never known Evan and Eddie to fight in all the years she had seen them be friends. They were like brothers, they had the kind of relationship she envisioned Evan would of had with Daniel if he were still alive today.

And Evan never started fights. When he was in college he was a sweet, joyous, outgoing soul who never put a foot wrong. If someone started a fight with Evan, he would barely throw a punch in retaliation and now he was older, Evan didn't start fights. If someone started on him, he might throw a punch in defence but that was as far as he would go.

For Evan to start a fight with Eddie and tackle him, especially when they were both at work, it meant this was serious and Maddie wasn't sure she would like the answers she was about to find out.

"I don't know what to do, Maddie. I came home last week, and he… he had (Y/n) up against the wall, shouting at her and calling her Shannon."

It was as if the light faded out of Maddie's eyes when she realised what Evan was trying to tell her. Reading between the lines made her soul leave her body and sent her coffee cup trembling between her fingers. She didn't have Eddie down as the type who would boarder on delusional or someone who would go to the point of frightening those closest to him.

"And he's done this twice. He kissed her at the wedding, he's got it in his head that she's some sort of second chance. He can't control himself around her and I don't know what to do."

"My wedding?" Her lower lip jutted out and a shaky breath parted through her lips before she took a deep breath. Her hands pressed into the counter, mirroring Evan's previous stance that changed so he could rub the back of his neck.

Evan had gone a week with limited contact with Eddie. The most they had spoken was a few exchanging texts for when Evan could pick Chris up and then drop him back off since they had made cakes for his bake sale three days ago. And Chris could tell something was wrong when Evan didn't come inside and have tea with him and Eddie when he dropped him back home. He knew something was up when Evan left without exchanging so much as a hello with Eddie.

He couldn't. He couldn't look at him without hearing Eddie's voice in the back of his head, snidely remarking how he wanted to be with (Y/n). How he thought she was his second chance. How selfish he knew he was for thinking Evan was robbing him of something special.

It was all Evan could see, think and hear when he was around Eddie and he was glad they were on opposite shifts. Limited contact was the best thing for now, but they couldn't carry on like this. They couldn't avoid each other forever. They couldn't hang out with the team and give one another the cold shoulder. They couldn't do this and risk upsetting Chris. Something had to change.

"Has he spoken to anyone? Those therapy sessions he was having, they might help… he's not over Shannon if he's looking for someone to replace her."

"I don't know if he will."

"Then don't give him a choice."

Something similar to a chuckle escaped Evan's lips and he looked across at his sister with confusion pooling in his eyes.

He took a long gulp of his coffee, delighting in the way it fizzled on his tongue and made his throat feel raw and tingled down to his stomach. How could he not give Eddie a choice? What was he supposed to do, drive him to mandated therapy? Get Bobby to demand he go to meetings or he couldn't return to work? Evan doubted blackmailing Eddie into therapy sessions would make him open up and go in there with an open mind.

"What? Just walk him in there and tell him he has to talk?"

"Look, you're important to Eddie, just like he means a lot to you, right? So if he truly cares about you like I think he does, then tell him. Tell him the only way to work this out is to talk it through, tell him he needs to work this out and then you can sit down with him and see where you go from here."

She knew the boys were close, they were like blood brothers. So if Eddie truly wanted to save this friendship and try to continue working together, he would agree. He would talk to someone and try to help himself and let everyone else help him. And then they could talk this through and try to patch things over and move forward.

Eddie clearly needed help and they had to get him that help, whether he thought he needed it or not.

"You think he will?" Evan tried not to let hope flood his voice, he could fill himself with false hope right now. He'd done that enough in his life and it gave him nothing but disappointment. But he was desperate for things to work out and pick up from this. He didn't want things to get to a lower point than this.

He straightened up, clicking his spine into place and tilting his head from side to side to crack his neck. But he paused when he felt Maddie's hand curve around his. Her fingers were soft and warm and made him think back to the times when she would sit with him in the dead of night after he'd had a nightmare.

The way she smoothed her hand up and down the back of his hand and wrist made Evan feel lightheaded and warm and cared for and understood, all the things he only ever felt when he talked to his sister about his problems.

"I think you're just as important to him as his family, and he won't want to lose you." Her smile brought a sense of calm washing over Evan and he curved his wrist so he could give her hand a squeeze. "How's (Y/n) doing with all of this? I can't imagine it being easy."

"She's okay, she… I think she thought I'd be angry at her. As if,"

Evan took the chance to move away from the kitchen counter and peek around the doorway into the living room.

Joy and a whole mountain of love soared through Evan's chest when he looked over at his partner. Seeing (Y/n) knelt down in front of the coffee table with a flurry of plastic cakes and teapots and fake cups and saucers surrounding her and Jee happily at her side, the sight did something to Evan.

The sight made his heart skip a beat and had heat rising to his cheeks and flooding his skin until he was turning red.

He loved how sweetly (Y/n) smiled at Jee and nodded, holding out her cup for a pretend refill. And he found himself grinning as he watched her decline another saucer with a plastic cupcake on top, saying she'd already had four cakes and was about to explode.

It was a sight that cemented things for Evan. It was something that made all the nerves and adrenaline in his stomach die down and replace them with gratitude and a homely feeling.

That was what he wanted. (Y/n) was what he wanted. Any future Evan tried to imagine, he couldn't think of one without (Y/n) being a part of it.

When he thought of coming home from work in a few years time, he could see (Y/n) at home with him. When he thought about moving out of the loft and getting a proper home like Maddie had done here with Chimney, Evan saw (Y/n) by his side. When he saw himself with kids, this was the sight that came to the front of his mind. (Y/n) with kids. With their kids.

He loved how Jee attached herself to (Y/n). He loved how easily (Y/n) fell into place with Maddie as if they had known each other their whole lives. He loved how the rest of the team intergrated (Y/n) as one of them and took to her like she was always supposed to be part of their group, their team, their family.

"Can you blame her? She must have been worried… I know when I thought I caused problems between Chim and Hen it scared me. She wouldn't want to ruin your bond with Eddie."

Maddie could sympathise and see things through (Y/n)'s perspective. She could see how (Y/n) would think Evan might get angry at her, think she was trying things on with Eddie or deliberately causing problems because of how close they were. She could see that (Y/n) would panic about causing waves within the team since they were such a close-knit family.

A soft, nurturing smile fluttered across Evan's lips while his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink which made him look bashful, especially with the way he looked at his sister through his lashes.

He took another daring look over his shoulder, making sure (Y/n) was still occupied trying to handle the amount of pretend refills his niece was handing over. His lips rolled together as he sighed and looked down at his feet while his hand rummaged around in his jacket pocket, trying to find something he needed his sister's opinion on.

"What do you think?"

Maddie took another sip of her coffee before she put her mug down and held her hands out with an inquizitive smile. She rose a brow and waited for her brother to hand over whatever was in his pocket. But the moment the square velvet red box was in her hands, her heart jumped up into her throat and her jaw slacked.

"Buck… oh my god." All she could do was dart her eyes between the ring and her brother, staring up at him with anticipation and love and hope and a little confusion held within her chocolate eyes. "You're sure?"

There was no malice or hidden insult or trepadation in her voice. All Evan could hear was love and giddiness that made her tone rise an octave and had her voice breaking off at the end.

She had never known her brother become this hopeful and serious about a relationship before. What he had with Abbi was somewhat serious, but there had been a lot of problems with them. His relationship with Taylor had been very one-sided with Evan putting all the effort and love into it only to get tiny reflections and gratitude in return. And she had been selfish which fed off of Evan's giving nature.

He had had serious relationships before, but none of those had ever gotten to the point where he would ever think about marriage.

What he had with (Y/n) was different.

When Evan looked at her he could see a future, he could see something he desperately wanted and something that made his heart soar and had his nerves tingling and fizzling like he was electrified. He was hopeful when he looked at (Y/n). He was in love when he looked at her and everything about her resonated with Evan's soul.

He nodded, trying not to bite down too harshly on his lip and tear through the skin. "You think she'll like it?"

"She's gonna love it." The excitement coursing through Maddie had her jumping from foot to foot. She was itching to go through there now and get her brother down on his knee just so she could witness the proposal and share this excitement.

They were both finally going to be happy. After everything the siblings had been through, this was their time. Maddie had her husband and her daughter and Evan had found someone he wanted to commit to. Things were finally looking up for them.

"When are you gonna ask?" Maddie's hands were shaking when she carefully closed the lid and gave the box back to Evan.

"I would of asked last week, Eddie kind of dampened the mood. But I can't wait much longer, I might try after work tomorrow." Evan's shoulders slacked and he held his arms out when Maddie moved over to wrap him up in a hug. She pressed her cheek against his sternum and gave a tight squeeze, making a quiet 'aww' sound that had Evan laughing.

He would of asked (Y/n) at some point last week, if everything with Eddie hadn't blown up in their faces. After that, he couldn't find the right time without feeling like a shadow was looming overhead.

But he had to ask soon, he couldn't wait another day. He wanted to ask and see if (Y/n) would say yes to spending the rest of her life with him. He wanted to see the ring on her finger and tell people and show her off and say that she was going to be his wife.

He had technically already asked her at the bachelor party anyway, declaring he was going to marry her at some point. And (Y/n) hadn't objected to the idea, so he was confident the answer would be yes.

He just needed to find the right time to ask.

***

A quiet grumble broke free from (Y/n)'s lips and she nuzzled her nose into the pillow, inhaling Evan's scent as her mind tried to go back to sleep but her ears picked up on something.

It didn't feel like she had been asleep for long. Whenever Evan had been on a night shift recently, (Y/n) ended up staying up late. She didn't like sleeping alone. She didn't like being in the apartment on her own, it just didn't feel right without Evan here.

Her head groggily lifted up from the pillow and she kept her eyes closed, focusing all her efforts to tune her ears into what noise had woken her up. She knew she heard something. The sound of a lock faintly clicking and hinges squeaking made (Y/n)'s heart add in an extra two beats to her rhythm and the adrenaline that pooled in her stomach made (Y/n) push up into a sitting position.

It was the front door.

Why was Evan coming home already?

Opening her eyes, (Y/n) glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly midnight. Evan was on the seven til seven shift, he wasn't supposed to be finished until seven in the morning and with getting showered and getting ready, he shouldn't be home until almost eight. He had been at work for almost five hours, why was he coming home so early?

Was he feeling sick? Had he had some type of accident? Surely not, or else he would be at the hospital rather than coming home like this. Maybe he had ended up switching shifts. Perhaps something had gone wrong and he physically couldn't carry on with his shift.

Every thought possible rattled through (Y/n)'s brain as she rubbed her eyes, feeling her body waken up immediately with worry for her partner.

Her legs swung over the side of the bed and her feet sank down into the fluffy rug that felt like walking on candy floss.

Her fingers tangled in her hair and she padded across the room, jumping onto her tiptoes when the cold laminate floor sent shockwaves through her soles and up her legs. She squinted when the lights downstairs turned on, basking the apartment in a warm orange glow that resonated up the stairs.

(Y/n) reached out for the bannister but she didn't take one step when she looked down.

Something horrid plunged into her heart and stole her breath and for a dreaded moment, her balance shifted and she almost toppled forwards. It took all her strength to regain her balance and shuffle backwards, away from the top of the stairs. All while she couldn't catch one breath and her lungs started to ache and burn from lack of oxygen.

Eddie.

Her hand pressed to her mouth to stop herself from making a sound while her other hand clenched the bannister until her nails were creating indents in the wood and she was about to get splinters beneath her skin.

What was he doing here?

Why was he here at midnight? Why did he just let himself in instead of knocking?

Both (Y/n) and Evan clearly forgot Eddie had a key. Evan gave him a key years ago because of how frequently he came round for a drink or a catch up and when he was dropping Chris off. Not to mention for emergencies. With everything Evan had gone through, he felt afraid that some mornings he might not wake up or he might slip back into a coma. He wanted Eddie and Bobby and Maddie to have keys in case he wasn't well or something happened to him and they needed to come round and check on him.

And of course Evan hadn't asked Eddie for the key back. They were still trying to patch their friendship back together and asking for the key would be like terminating their friendship or implying Evan didn't trust Eddie. But he didn't trust Eddie, at least not around (Y/n).

Oh God. Did Eddie know Evan was at work tonight?

Is that why he's here, because he knows I'll be alone?

Every part of (Y/n) began to shake as she shuffled backwards, trying not to pick her feet up in case she made echoes on the laminate. But it didn't really matter whether Eddie knew she was awake or not. She wasn't going to be able to sneak past him to get out the flat and it wasn't like she could hide up here in the bedroom or climb down from the balcony. She was effectively trapped.

Her hands reached out for the bed and she used it as leverage to lower herself down onto the rug. She shakily took her phone from the bedside table and hunkered down, curling over until her chest was pressed down against her thighs.

She clicked on Evan's contact and held the phone to her ear, suddenly realising how loud the dialling tone sounded. Would Eddie be able to hear it from downstairs? Would he know she knew he was here? Would he get angry?

Evan didn't answer.

(Y/n) didn't expect him to, he was on a night shift and she knew they got a lot of call outs during the night. He was probably in the truck or in the middle of a call with his phone back in the truck or back in his locker at the station.

Who else could she call? She didn't have Maddie's number, and she wasn't sure if Maddie would wake up this late in the night if her phone rang, some people didn't. She didn't know if Maddie would even come down here if (Y/n) asked her for help. She didn't want to be a burden and have the first time she called Maddie be because she needed to ask for assistance.

Bobby.

As if a lightbulb had gone off above her head, (Y/n) turned to Evan's bedside drawer. She shakily dragged it open and tried to be as quiet as she could when she pushed a few things to the sides. Moving past the medication boxes, earbuds, the old notepad for scribbling important details down. The five different coloured pens he had in there which he was always messing about with. She ignored the ball of blue tac and the few important documents he had folded in the back of his drawer.

Her fingers latched around the thin black leather book that she remembered Evan showing her a while back.

His address book.

It didn't matter that Evan had a very good memory for certain things such as movie quotes, exact conversations from five years ago, random facts people told him in passing. People's middle names or the name of their pets. Evan was terrible with addresses.

He could visualise and remember exactly where someone's house was, but he never remembered street names or house numbers.

(Y/n) flicked to the letter B, already knowing Evan would have him under Bobby rather than Bobby Nash. And she could feel tears of relief pooling in her eyes when she noticed in the dim lighting that Evan had indeed written Bobby's number down beneath his address.

Just in case his phone got lost or crashed; it didn't matter that Evan knew Bobby's number by heart. Emergency situations were always catered for.

(Y/n) tapped the number into her phone, jumping against the bed when she heard Eddie's footsteps thudding about downstairs. She had no idea what he was doing and she didn't want to know either. She just wanted him to stay down there and not dare to come up here.

(Y/n) pressed her forehead against the mattress and curved her left arm around her waist to try and keep herself calm and slow down her breathing. She could feel her tears soaking into the mattress and she sniffed, trying to control herself but it was becoming hard.

She felt stupid. She felt like a child for panicking this much and not knowing what to do, but Eddie frightened her.

Evan told her not to talk to Eddie again. He told her to stay away from Eddie until Evan had sorted everything out and made sure Eddie was okay and under control. Being alone with him wasn't an option and Bobby said she was a trigger for Eddie and therefore shouldn't be around him in case she set him off.

But this wasn't her fault. She hadn't asked him round or even let him in, he had done this all on his own.

"Hello?" Bobby's confused voice sent waves of relief rushing through (Y/n) and a tidal wave of tears soaked into the bed when she realised he'd answered. She had clearly woken him up. He was still on the A shift and that meant he was mostly on days. Bobby was the captain and therefore he needed to be at the station during the day to sort shifts and do the occasional meeting as well as being on the floor with the team.

She felt bad for waking him up, but at least he was at home and he had answered and she knew he would help her.

"Bobby? I-it's (Y/n)."

"Oh, hi. Are you okay, is something wrong?" He wasn't stupid. He could hear the panic in her voice and he knew anyone calling him at midnight had to be either drunk out of their heads or in need of help. "Eddie's here." Her voice shook despite how quietly she was whispering down the line.

"Where? At your apartment? Don't let him in I'll-"

"He has a key, he's already inside." She was sure she heard a few curse words muffle down the line. "What do I do?"

"If you can get to the bathroom, get in there and lock the door. Or if you can make it out the apartment, get out and find a neighbour. I'm getting dressed, I'll come down to you and I'll contact the station to get a message across to Buck. Don't worry, okay?"

Something about his voice and his words were soothing, like he was already in Captain mode and he knew exactly what to do and how to handle this situation. But (Y/n) couldn't help but worry. She knew what Eddie was like when he was round her and she knew what she had seen so far was only the tip of the iceberg.

(Y/n) wanted to say thank you. It was on the tip of her tongue until she heard footsteps. Loud footsteps. Worn heels stomping against the stairs.

Her eyes lifted towards the stairs in the corner of the room and her thumb ended the call before she could try and say any sort of thank you or another plea for help. She dropped her phone on the rug and pushed up until she could slump onto the bed to sit down.

She didn't want Eddie to know she had called for help; that might be something that would push him into a manic episode and (Y/n) couldn't afford that happening.

She scrunched the covers up in her fists and coiled inwards until she was as small as she could make herself. She squinted when Eddie flicked on the bedroom light but seeing him stood there at the top of the stairs made her lips pull down into a deep frown.

He looked disshevelled. Hair askew on his head in all directions. His shirt was glued to his frame and looked like he had spilt something down the front. He was leaning heavily on the wall like he couldn't hold himself up. His pupils were blown wide but his eyes were half-lidded like he was ready to drop down and sleep on the floor.

He was drunk.

The last time he had been drunk around (Y/n) he had started to get nasty. He had grabbed her at the bar and started getting frustrated when he talked to her. His alternate fantasy must come alive when he was drunk because she could see he wanted to smile when he looked at her.

Was he seeing Shannon when he looked at her? Did he feel like he had gone back in time and was back to the part of his past where he was somewhat happily married?

Did he even know what he was in Evan's flat right now, or did looking at (Y/n) make everything else blur? Could Eddie only focus on looking at her and thinking he was back with Shannon?

"You're awake."

His words stunned (Y/n) for a moment. She wasn't expecting that, although she wasn't too sure what she was expecting him to say if she was being honest with herself.

She thought maybe he would go straight into a rant, that he would shout at her for ruining things with Evan. Maybe he might scream at her for changing things at work, for making him an outcast and causing Evan to switch to the B shift. (Y/n) wondered if he would look at her and straight away start calling her Shannon and telling her how much he missed her and wanted her to come home. Maybe she anticipated him lunging at her and yelling.

A soft, if surprised, statement like that wasn't what she expected, but it calmed down her raging heart that was thumping against her ribs so hard and fast she felt like a race horse.

"I- I heard you come in… are you okay?" Her foot glided across the carpet and every time her toes brushed her phone, she envisioned it ringing.

She wasn't sure whether it was on silent or not. If it was on silent, Eddie wouldn't hear it if Bobby tried to call her back or if Evan called when Bobby finally managed to get hold of him. But if it wasn't and someone called her, Eddie would know. He would know straight away that she had tried to call for help because who would ring her at this time of night unless for an emergency or because she had called for help?

"Sure. I'm just fine when you're here, and I can't have you."

His name was on the tip of her tongue but (Y/n) quelled the thought to speak and settled for biting her tongue instead. He said before that he loved it when she said his name. Something in her voice had to remind him of Shannon and (Y/n) didn't want to do anything to lead Eddie on or antagonise him and if he liked hearing his name from her lips, then she couldn't speak it.

Sadness pooled in her eyes, but she couldn't find any response. What was she supposed to say to that? How could she show Eddie that she felt sorry for him, that she sympathised with him and somewhat understood his pain. She understood the longing he felt and how desperate he was to see and be with Shannon again.

If something happened to Evan and (Y/n) saw someone who looked so familiar, she had no idea how she would act or what she would say or do. She might attach to that person and want to be around them, want to linger in the memories they provoked.

"Buck told me to stay away. He won't even speak to me, you know, he only texts to ask about Chris. He said I can't go near you, and he told Bobby. He told Bobby I'm messed up, and now the Captain told me to stay away from you too. You're well guarded."

His tone was cynical and the smile on his face was sharp like broken glass, but it was the crease in his narrowed eyes that set (Y/n) on edge. All he needed was a knife or a gun in his hand and he would look every bit like a derranged criminal.

"They're just worried about you, they want to help-"

"How is Buck keeping you from me helping?" He snapped his jaw like a crocodile and took a step closer until he was stood at the end of the bed. It was as if he thought she was a memory and he didn't dare touch her, not yet. Not until he had reassured himself that she wasn't about to disappear.

"How should we help you?"

Her words stunned him. Mainly because Eddie didn't want their help, and partly because he didn't think he needed it. Well, some of him did. The sensible part of his brain knew he was in the wrong and that he had to clean up his act and stop this before he ruined every good relationship he had in his life.

He was straining his friendship with Bobby and the team. He was breaking every bond he had with Evan. He was going to emotionally damage his son by doing this. And he was ruining the friendship he could of had with (Y/n) by acting out against her.

But he didn't know how to stop, he didn't know how to ask for help or what kind of help he needed. All Eddie knew was the way (Y/n) made him feel when he was around her and it was a feeling that he wanted to savour. He wanted the nostalgia she brought him when he looked at her. He wanted the butterflies in his chest when he heard her voice, or the way he felt euphoric when he heard her say his name.

Most of all, Eddie wanted that spark in his chest and the fire in his blood when he kissed her. He wanted that light back in his system and that feeling of being alive, being in love and being whole again when he touched (Y/n).

Why was that so wrong?

"I just wanna be with you. Do you know how hard it is to look at you and not reach out for you? Do you know what it's like to miss you so fucking much and then have everyone tell me I can't ever touch or kiss you again? That you're not mine?"

Tears spilled down Eddie's face and the redness beneath his eyes suggested this wasn't the first time he had been crying tonight, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

She isn't mine. She loves Buck. He has her.

Eddie could think of nothing else but those three little variations and they weren't what he wanted to hear.

I'm coming home. I love you. I'm yours, Eddie.

Those were the varying combinations of three words that Eddie was desperate to hear. Those were the words Eddie heard in the dead of night. They were what he tried to listen out for whenever she spoke. That was what he saw when he looked into her eyes. Why wouldn't she just say them? Why couldn't she love him back? Why did she have to belong to Evan?

"I don't know what that's like, and I'm so sorry." (Y/n) bowed her head and looked down to her hands that unravelled from the cover so she could run her fingers up and down her thighs instead. "Why are you here?" She tried to keep her voice as gentle as possible so Eddie wouldn't think she was being snide or rude.

But if Eddie knew all of this, if he understood that (Y/n) wasn't his and that he shouldn't be here, then why turn up? Why come down here at all if he knew it was going to be the wrong decision? How was this going to help him if he felt guilty for being here and if he knew everyone was going to hate him for making this choice?

"Because if I can't have you, neither can he."

(Y/n) didn't see Eddie move until it was too late. Her eyes bulged in her sockets and her lips parted but nothing came out when Eddie's hand latched over her chin.

The force he had was unmatched and the strength in his arm alone was enough to slam (Y/n) down on her back on the bed. His fingertips dug uncomfortably into her cheeks and something dark crossed his eyes as he leaned over her.

His free hand pinned into the mattress just beside her shoulder and his knees pinned into her thighs with him sitting awkwardly on her lap to keep her from moving.

She didn't know what he was going to do. She didn't know how to get away from him. She didn't know when he suddenly stopped crying and switched to glaring daggers into her like she had done all of this on purpose. He was staring down at her like (Y/n) had teased and provoked him and tormented him. As if she had gone out of her way to look and act like Shannon, to dangle that fantasy in front of him only to then take it away from him before he had a proper taste of freedom.

His words seemed to contradict his actions. His words made (Y/n) fret that he was going to hurt her, knock her out, drag her from the apartment and hide her away so Evan could never find her again. It almost sounded like he had committed to the thought of never being able to call (Y/n) his. But pinning her to the bed suggested otherwise.

This suggested Eddie knew what he wanted and he was just going to take it whether anyone tried to stop him or not. It implied he would make (Y/n) his in any way he could to get her to see this through his eyes.

(Y/n) didn't want to contemplate what Eddie was going to do, whether he had a well thought out plan or if he was just playing this second by second.

She was torn between wanting to punch him and wanting to cradle him because he was clearly fractured. He was tormented by the ghost of Shannon and all he wanted was for someone to love him and make him feel the way he did when he was with her. But (Y/n) couldn't do that and she couldn't comfort Eddie when he was acting like this.

She wiggled her head down until her chin was tucked up against her neck and when she loosened her jaw, she sank her teeth down into Eddie's hand. Right into the soft flesh between his thumb and index finger. She chomped as hard as she could until she could feel the muscles tightening beneath her teeth and that horrid, squelching sound of his flesh shifting in her bite.

He didn't let go. He cried out, he growled, he tensed and shifted on top of her. But he didn't let her go. If anything, his fingers tightened against her cheeks and he slammed her head down. If they had been on the floor instead of the bed, he could of knocked her out, but all he did was make her go dizzy and cause an ache in the back of her neck.

The pain didn't seem to bother Eddie, but (Y/n) could see it in his face that it irritated him, like a distraction he couldn't afford to have. So he let her go. He reared his hand back until she released her bite and she tried to catch her breath back while he shook his hand out to get some feeling back.

But then his fingers were scrunching up in the collar of her shirt and he used it as leverage to lift her up off the bed.

He stayed kneeling on the edge of the bed, her thighs pinned between his knees. His groin and abdomen pressed against her and his arm pulled back to his chest causing (Y/n) to sit upright on the bed with her legs dangling over the side, between Eddie's legs.

She tilted her head back, gasping for breath while she sneered at him and tried to grab him by the shoulders to push him off.

"You think wearing his clothes means anything? It doesn't change who you are to me. You're my wife; I won't let him take you."

Eddie's eyes slithered up and down her frame, taking in her attire for the first time since he came into the apartment. She was wearing Evan's white lounge shirt which was now scrunched up in Eddie's fist and digging uncomfortably into the back of (Y/n)'s neck. And it was crumpled up around her thighs, exposing her underwear to Eddie's eagle eyes.

"Calling me Shannon doesn't mean she isn't dead."

She thought her words would make him cry. His eyes glossed over and for a moment, reality seemed to flicker across his pupils that constricted. But then they were black holes again, drawing her in and frightening her down to her core that shuddered beneath him.

His nails scratched her neck and caused a stinging sensation to claw along her cheek. She wasn't sure whether he tried to slap her or if he just caught her when he went to grab her differently.

But he didn't like it when she closed her eyes. She denied him the privellage of seeing her eyes, of seeing the hatred and the fear within them. Both his hands held her by her face, indenting into her cheeks that ached and burned and she could feel her inner cheeks cutting on her teeth from how harshly he held her.

But it was enough for (Y/n) to wriggle away from him. She shimmed down and pushed her weight forward, slamming her arms down into his elbows which gave his body a jolt. All of her weight pushed forward into Eddie's chest and she unbalanced him, falling into his chest as he toppled backwards onto the floor.

Her ankle rolled in the wrong direction and (Y/n) swallowed a cry as her whole leg twitched and throbbed as she clambered over Eddie to get away from him. But not before her hands scuffled along the rug and found her phone she had dropped earlier.

Her palms scraped the floor and she fell down on her knees, twice, when her left ankle gave out each time she tried to stand up.

"Shannon!"

"She's dead!" (Y/n) snapped back as she reached the stairs and took a leap of faith.

She shuffled. Her hands clung to the bannister and she let herself slide down each step, bumping from one to another and she just knew she would be littered in bruises all up and down her bum and the back of her thighs come morning. But it didn't matter, her ankle had given out and until it worked again, she had to get away from Eddie somehow. She had to get into the bathroom because it was the only place where she could lock the door and keep Eddie at bay.

Leaving the apartment wasn't a good idea when she didn't know how long Bobby would be and she didn't know any of the neighbours. None of them would wake up after midnight and give her sanctuary and going out into the street barefoot in nothing but her underwear and Evan's shirt that barely covered her thighs wouldn't do her any good either.

She could feel her phone scraping along the bannister, pinned between the wood and her palm and when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she tried to stand.

"You're not leaving me again." Eddie's voice was cold and brutal and so close that the hairs on the back of (Y/n)'s neck stood up on end.

She let out a scream when his hand latched into her hair and he pushed all of his weight onto her back until she was falling forward. Her arms slammed into the floor and her forehead bashed into the laminate, jolting her body while her knees hit the floor with a bang. But it was Eddie's weight on her back that hurt the most.

It was the feeling of his chest on her back and his face smothered into her neck. It was his hand scrunched up in her hair and his other hand on her shoulder and his leg pinned between her thighs with his hips crushing down on her lower back and bum that hurt the most. All of Eddie was crushing her against the floor and she could barely breathe at all.

It was only after seven agonising seconds that (Y/n) finally took in a strangled breath that wheezed past her lips. She could feel her chapped lips becoming wet as she gasped and spat and tried not to choke as she struggled for air and tears welled up in her eyes.

But once her senses came back to her, she realised her phone was no longer in her hand.

It had been flung across the floor a few feet in front of them.

And now it was ringing.

Eddie's chest heaved against her back and his hand moved from her hair to curve around the back of her neck instead. He stared down at her, nostrils flaring, eyes rabid and breaths as deep as hers while her ringtone flooded the apartment. And (Y/n) knew exactly who was calling.

She knew because her ringtone was always the same, except for one person. She had personalised Evan's ringtone so that whenever he called her, her phone played Crazy In Love. Bobby must have gotten hold of him, or Evan had gotten a moment to check his phone and noticed a missed call. Or maybe Bobby got hold of the station and they had finally told Evan what was going on.

"Who did you call? What did you do?!"

(Y/n) didn't answer; she couldn't answer. She was still gasping for air and her ribs felt like they were breaking beneath Eddie's weight. The floor felt horrid as it crushed her chest and pinned against her abdomen and Eddie's every curve moulded over her own and kept her melted in place against him.

She tried to move. She tried to crawl, to slither out of his arms, to scratch her nails against the floor and drag herself forward towards her phone. She needed to answer, she needed to scream, to gasp or cry or make some sort of derranged noise so Evan knew she was in trouble.

All of her strength was pushed into her right arm and she stretched as much as she could, wiggling against Eddie until her finger brushed her phone and she dragged the white button across the screen.

"Ev-" Something horrid wheezed past (Y/n)'s lips when Eddie's hand clamped over her mouth and his left arm pinned around her neck.

She couldn't breathe anymore. She couldn't move. She couldn't talk or wriggle or hit out or shift in any direction.

Her body went limp and her chest seized up while her blurry eyes rolled to the back of her head. But they didn't stay like that for long. It felt like she had barely been in a choke hold for one second before she realised she was suddenly being moved.

Her arms flopped across the floor, trying in vain to drag herself along the floor and move but it was too hard. It was too much effort to try and get away from Eddie when all of her energy was dwindling like she was an engine with a leak. And trying to move forwards only strained the arm around her neck and cut off her breathing. She couldn't last any longer without a proper breath, so she gave in.

(Y/n) let Eddie man handle her and the back of her head bashed into his shoulder, causing her body to jerk in spasms while her eyes rolled in circles, trying to gain some sense of focus again.

(Y/n) couldn't find the ability to breathe or move and she couldn't focus on what was happening. She couldn't even hear Evan's voice as he called something through the phone which sounded distant like Evan was held underwater.

Her stomach tensed and her chest seized up again when she felt Eddie's arm tighten around her neck and his right arm bound around her waist.

He had her back pinned into his chest and her body slumped between his thighs. They were both sitting up on the floor but (Y/n) felt like she was about to slide down and lay out on the floor. Her body was being held up by the arm around her throat that was close to choking her.

Both her hands moved to grip Eddie's bicep and she dug her nails into his arm, pulling as much as she could to try and get him to relent and let her go.

The feeling of Eddie's face smothering against the side of her head made (Y/n)'s lips twitch and pull into a frown.

She could feel tears dripping down her cheeks when he started to take ragged, gasping breaths against her skin. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, crushing into her back with every inhale. And she knew he was crying again, just like she was.

It was only then that (Y/n) realised she could hear Evan.

"(Y/n) please! What the Hell is going on?"

Hearing Evan calling out her name made (Y/n) cry harder. She hated when he used her name because of how she had become used to hearing him call her any other pet name that he could. He only used her name when something serious was going on and she hated it.

Her heels scraped against the floor in a vain attempt to keep herself pushed up and to try and lift her head higher to take a big, deep breath. She sniffed and gasped, inhaling a deep breath as Eddie seemed to hold her tighter and curled around her like he was trying to morph them into one person.

"Eddie, p-please," (Y/n) didn't know what she was trying to say or what she was begging for, but she knew her words fell upon deaf ears.

He started to kiss her temple while his right arm pinned into her stomach until he was crushing her and making her feel sick. And she let out a small, frail sob when Eddie started to rock them back and forth. It was almost as if he was cradling her, as if he was trying to comfort her when he was the one in need of help and comfort.

She stopped digging her nails into his arm and instead tried to shakily rub her hands up and down his arms. Maybe comforting him would make him stop. Maybe trying to feign understanding and calming herself down would in turn make Eddie calm down. Then she could slip away from him and get across into the bathroom.

But his hold was so tight that (Y/n) doubted she would get away from him or get very far before he launched on her again. Being pinned in his arms like this felt better than being crushed on the floor with him on top of her. This felt safer. Eddie couldn't hurt her or try and do anything drastic while they were like this. He may be hurting her and giving her bruises, but it was better than him pinning her to the floor or the bed and trying to rip her clothes off or scream at her for leaving him.

She heard Evan's pleas call out through the air so loud he sounded like he was on loud speaker. "Eddie what are you doing? Don't do this. Think of me, think of Chris, please. Whatever the fuck you're doing, stop!"

(Y/n) gasped, drawing in a strangled breath when Eddie's arm loosened from her stomach and he reached across for her phone. His chest pinned down into her back and he creased over her, pushing her forward so he could end the call and toss the phone into the kitchen.

"I can't- I don't know how to love anyone else. I love you. I love you."

Those three little words played on repeat until (Y/n) was sobbing and Eddie was crying them into her neck.

She felt his head tilt down so his face was smothered in her neck and he started dragging his lips across her skin. Leaving wet, open-mouthed touches in his wake that had (Y/n) shaking and her fingers leaving indents in Eddie's arm while his right arm went back to imbedding in her stomach.

He'd never said that to her before.

Eddie had never said he loved her. He never got far into the delusion of being with Shannon when he was around (Y/n). Whenever he was with her, he seemed to get angry. He showed her how wrecked he was because she had left him, he pleaded with her to come home. He told her how much he and Chris missed her and how much he wanted her and needed her. But he always seemed angry with her.

Shannon had died before Eddie could clear the air with her or tell her how much she meant to him or tell her that he wanted to make things work between them if they could. She died with so many things left unsaid and now Eddie was saying them all to (Y/n) in the vain fantasy that Shannon was really back in his life.

That fantasy seemed to be crumbling around him. Eddie could hear the timer ticking away in the back of his head. He could feel the walls closing in. He could feel Evan and Bobby getting closer to taking (Y/n) away from him for good and he could feel his world crumbling into tiny fragmented pieces.

And he was doing whatever he could to keep (Y/n) with him, to keep this thought of Shannon alive.

If Bobby or Evan didn't get here soon, (Y/n) dreaded to think what Eddie might do. She found herself sobbing as he crushed her harder in his embrace until she couldn't breathe and he spoke against her neck, his words chilling her down to her core.

"Buck can't have you. He can't take you from me."

#evan buckley #911 imagine #imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #eddie diaz #maddie buckley #bobby nash #resemblance

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yamujiburo · 8 months

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I think about Deliah/Jessie/James poly so much dude. Hanamusashipping and Rocketshipping are both phenomenal in their own ways, so I think it's a fun concept to combine the two! You have fully convinced me that Deliah is a lesbian, especially with the whole "turned down *hundreds* of men" like my goodness! Wonder what got her into a relationship with Ash's dad... there's potential for angst there but I can't bring myself to put that on her. But let me propose a concept: Queerplatonic James and Deliah. I would love to see more lil comics and stuff of them together running Deliah's restaurant (which... do we know what the name of that is?), just being remarkably on the same wavelength with aesthetics, food prep, all that stuff. They'd be such cuties! I think it'd be sweet for the two of them to have another person to open up towards about their pasts and insecurities and stuff. James has had to let go of pokemon he cared for a lot (so has Jessie of course, but tbh I can only recall Arbok and Dustox, while James let go of at least Weezing, Chimeco, and Cacnea? Does Growlie count too? I'm not sure... Mimikyu and Mareanie are a lil different since they hang out with Bewear and Stufful, and the whole Alola bit of Journeys emphasized that TR visits them). But he can empathize a lot with how Deliah does support Ash's travels, but at the same time feels guilty for not being "enough" for him, y'know? James had to let Chimeco stay with his grandparents because it was just far too sickly, and Gardenia was able to see potential in Cacnea that James knew he couldn't bring out as much as he tried. But he doesn't doubt that his pokemon know he loved them dearly, and they all wish each other the best uwu. There's just a lot of cute fun for the dynamic. Jessie goes from being unlucky in love to getting *two* wonderful partners. Ash gets a second step-dad, and it's the other guy who tried to kidnap his pet mouse lmao. Ash understanding James' bottlecap collection because it's kinda like his collection of gym badges, or the two of them making a whole powerpoint to show Deliah evidence that Jessies' contest and performance personas are still her. Ash, Pikachu, and Meowth seeing James, Jessie, and Deliah all cozy on the couch, and they all just look at each other like "ew" before running in and interrupting the moment™.

YAAAA this is so cute! Delia and James would have a really fun dynamic. I unfortunately have not done as much with them as I'd like to (i haven't done as much with this au as i'd like to in general lol) but whenever I think about potential ideas or situations, I always imagine them being there for one another and being able to tell each other anything~

Oh and the restaurant is canonically called Masara House (or in english Pallet House)

#ask yam

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indigoblog · 17 days

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Heard some sad news from Veronica Taylor on instagram- Rachael Lillis, the original English voice of Utena from RGU, Jessie, Misty, Jigglypuff and a whole load of others from Pokemon, has cancer and is being cared for in a nursing home. Please share this link for her GoFundMe and help her if you can ❤️ I hope she recovers soon. Rachael is the voice of my childhood, and I’m sending all my best wishes to her and her family

#Rachael lillis #jessie pokemon #team rocket #Veronica Taylor #revolutionary girl Utena #jigglypuff #misty pokemon #misty #ash Ketchum #pokemon #gofundme

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hgfictionwriter · 26 days

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Mending

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Despite how great a girlfriend Jessie is, old hurt bleeds into your relationship with her and threatens to dismantle it.

Warnings: Mentions of emotional manipulation and abuse.

A/N: Bit of angst and hurt as reader recalls past experiences, but very much a comfort and reassurance fic. Happy ending. Based on this request.

"Hey, change of plans, instead of going out for dinner after the game on Saturday, Becky's invited us all to go to her house instead."

A heavy pit immediately formed in your stomach as you read Jessie's message. You totally forgot about dinner with her and the team on Saturday. Suddenly, the memory of you agreeing to come to dinner to celebrate Becky's milestone caps was vivid in your mind, unfortunately too late though.

You chewed the inside of your lip as you stared at her message and fret about what to do.

"Jessie, I'm so, so sorry. I completely forgot. I have [y/best friend]'s birthday that night. I didn't realize when I agreed that there was a conflict. We have reservations and tickets to an event that night. I'm really sorry - I don't think I can go to your game or to Becky's after. I wish I could though."

"I can't believe I didn't notice sooner. I promise I will make it up to you. I know you have plans the next day already, but maybe we could grab breakfast together?"

"All good. I have errands to run in the morning, so can't do breakfast."

You stared at Jessie's message. It wasn't warm like her usual texts. And she didn't offer an alternative or continue the conversation. Your chest tightened.

"That's okay! I wanted to offer. I'm really sorry, Jessie. I promise I'll pay closer attention next time. Maybe I could meet you after my event is over?"

"Or maybe I can skip part of something and join you for a bit that evening?"

A couple of hours passed - no response.

You stared at the messages with Jessie and fidgeted anxiously. You were supposed to be focused on a project right now, but you hadn't typed more than 50 words since Jessie texted.

You checked your phone incessantly. Your mind knew no new texts had come through, yet you checked with blind faith and hope that you'd see a message from her.

Logically, you knew she was probably just busy. She was at training, after all. But she'd made time to text you earlier. And she'd texted at various points of training before.

Your stomach churned, a heavy, deep pit inside of you, as you wondered if Jessie was mad at you for cancelling. And did she actually have errands that morning – or was she just upset with you.

The anxiety and unrest building inside of you was a feeling that was all too familiar and it hit you hard because of it.

You tried to remind yourself that Jessie wasn't your ex. Nor was she like your ex. She wasn't someone who would manipulate you, punish you with mind games and emotional warfare, and dangle her affection above your head as a reward you may receive if you were perfect enough.

At least Jessie wasn't like that so far. It had only been a couple of months. And you've seen people take great care and patience in slowly reveal who they are – and not for the better.

You sighed and felt a lump form in your throat. You hated being stuck in this state. You finally worked up the courage to leave your ex – and she didn't make it easy – but you wanted a better life.

You didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore. You didn't want to analyze every little action and word. You didn't want to try to anticipate your partner – doing your best to ward off her bad moods and brace yourself for when you weren't successful.

So, could you cancel on [y/best friend]? Well, anything's possible. But, you didn't want to. You gave up so much of yourself and your life on account of your ex and you swore you wouldn't do it again. Not even for someone as incredible as Jessie.

Yet, here you were making unprompted, borderline-desperate accommodations. The way you fell into old, bad habits left you dejected and ashamed. It felt like no matter how hard you tried to break cycles or damaging mindsets, simple things pulled you right back.

Several hours passed and you felt like you were going to be sick. Your mind was noisy with self-reprimanding thoughts and endless theories.

On your way home, you were looking at your messages with Jessie again when the typing bubble came up. Your body stilled and your breath hitched in your chest. You mouth was dry as you waited.

"You don't have to do any of that, Y/N. Seriously. Go to your friend's party!"

What did that really mean? Maybe it should've made you feel better, but instead you felt your worry grow.

You chewed your lip and typed out a reply.

"I can do both! I want to make it work. I'm sorry – that's what I should've said from the beginning."

"What? No. You don't need to. Go to [y/best friend]'s party."

"But I want to support you. And I don't want you to think I'm not prioritizing you."

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure what's happening. I think I've said something that's come across wrong. I'm not upset or bothered at all. I know you support me and prioritize me. And to be clear, you shouldn't prioritize me above yourself or everyone else."

You read Jessie's message. While you were dissecting everything she said, this message made you slow down and take a step back. It felt genuine – as far as you could tell. Maybe it was real.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I guess I was just reading into things and getting in my head. I'm sorry."

"Baby. Are you okay? What's going on?"

Without warning, you felt tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes. You really wanted this relationship to be different. For you to be different, and you were ruining things anyway.

You were lost in your thoughts when your phone began to vibrate in your hand. You stopped in your tracks as your eyes shot down to see Jessie's name and picture. Your pulse quickened, but in a way you weren't used to with Jessie. Normally, it was excitement and anticipation, but in this moment you felt trepidation. You started walking again and reluctantly picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey." Jessie's voice was warm and despite your concerns, immediately comforting. "I was going to wait for your text, but I thought maybe phone would be better. Things can get misconstrued easily with text. So...what's going on? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm great." It pained you to muster up the false levity in your voice. "I'm sorry to worry you."

"You know, I'm the Canadian here, and yet you are doing an awful lot of apologizing. And you really don't need to," she offered with a soft laugh.

"I'm-" You stopped yourself with a near flinch before the word 'sorry' came out again. You took a quick breath and spoke evenly. "I'm okay. Really. Like I said, I was just getting in my head. It's all good though. Thanks for clarifying."

"Okay," Jessie said slowly, clearly not fully convinced. "I mean, can you tell me what I said that caused that? It definitely wasn't my intention."

You couldn't prevent your frustrated sigh from escaping you. You quickly spoke up to prevent Jessie from thinking it was about her.

"Honestly Jessie, it's okay. It's not on you. I just wanted to make sure I didn't upset you."

"Why would I be upset? I-" Jessie's tone was curious and not accusatory, but you cut her off.

"I wasn't paying close enough attention and I had to cancel on you. And I know your team was expecting me to be there too, so now you have to make an excuse for me." You swallowed and took a short breath, unsure if you wanted to go on or not. "And, I don't know. You seemed kind of curt? Or not that warm when you first responded? And then I didn't hear from you for a while..." Your voice wavered and trailed off as you heard your own words, a sense of anger rising inside of you at how pathetic you sounded.

"Baby," Jessie said affectionately, though you heard a faint laugh coming through the phone, "I'm really sorry. I was rushing to text you before we went out on the pitch, so that's why my texts were a bit more curt or blunt than usual, but I wanted to reply to you before I'd be gone for a while. I guess I didn't think about how that might be worse."

You listened to her reply, still feeling small, and failed to come up with a response before she spoke again.

"Are you free tonight?" She asked. "And by 'tonight' I mean in like an hour."

You stammered briefly, skepticism and confusion clouding your response before finding your voice. "Yeah." You let a beat pass. "Any reason why?" You asked tentatively.

Jessie laughed gently. "Because I'd like to come over and bring you dinner if you're up for it."

Your jaw clenched subconsciously. This didn't feel right. But still, you nodded. "Sure. That'd be nice." You couldn't stop yourself before you continued. "But you really don't need to. I've already caused issues today. Like, you don't need to change your plans or go out of your way. I'm totally fine."

"Sushi or Vietnamese?" She asked you undeterred.

"I-I don't know. Up to you."

"I would like your opinion," she continued lightly. It took you a couple of seconds to reply.

"Sushi."

"Done. I'll be at your place in about an hour, okay?"

"Jessie..." You weren't even sure what you were protesting anymore. It just all felt unfamiliar.

"I'll see you soon, babe."

True to her word, Jessie showed up at your apartment an hour later, sushi in hand.

"Hi," she said with a warm smile as she stepped in, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. Even though your reciprocation was delayed and mild, she pulled back and still smiled at you sweetly.

"Thank you for having me over. I got you an extra order of those dragon rolls you like," she announced as she walked further in and set the bag down on your kitchen counter. She started retrieving plates from your cupboards. You stood passively behind, watching her move through your apartment leisurely.

"What can I grab you to drink?" She asked over her shoulder as she carried everything over to your table.

"I'm fine. I have some water," you told her, feeling like your voice was disappointingly meek. You refocused a moment later and straightened, taking a step towards your fridge. "What can I get you?"

"I've got it," she assured you lightly, holding up her hands, gesturing for you to relax. "I'll grab water. Take a seat. Dig in."

You slowly made your way over to the table. Your eyes remained fixed on her as you sat down. By the time she took her seat, you hadn't even retrieved your chopsticks off the table. She held your gaze and took a sip of her drink. She set the glass down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I was going to dig into things after dinner, but I get the sense it's heavy on your mind, so, if you're okay with it maybe we can just talk right now." It was more of a statement than a question, but she did leave the door open for you to object. When you didn't, she stood up slightly and shuffled over with her chair to sit right in front of you, your knees nearly touching.

"Is this okay?" She asked as she took your hands in hers. You gave a few faint nods and she offered you a small smile. "Okay. I guess I can start by clarifying – I didn't mean to sound curt or cold at all. I was in a rush and didn't think about how my words could come across via text. I'm glad you told me though, because now I know if there's something bigger going on I can approach things differently.

"If I don't have time to fully respond, would it be okay if I just tell you that I'm short on time but will answer you more later? And as part of that, tell you things are okay – I just want more time to give a full reply?"

Your posture straightened and you blinked as you processed her words. It just felt so strange.

"Y-yeah. That'd be totally fine." You shrugged before shutting your eyes and rethinking things. "But, that's silly. You don’t need to do that. I just should know and be able to not spiral." While you felt nervous and uncertain a few seconds ago, you now felt a wave of internal disappointment going through you. She brought you back to the moment by stroking the back of your hand with her thumb.

"I can communicate more clearly and intentionally," she assured you gently. "And you don't have to 'just know' - you're not a mind reader." She paused, holding your gaze before visibly exhaling. "But that does make me wonder. Why do you feel like you have to be a mind reader?"

You could almost feel yourself shrink under the weight of her question. You averted your gaze and could feel your hands starting to get clammy.

"Hey," she said softly, urging you to look back at her as she lifted her hand and gently cupped your cheek. "It's okay. I don't want to push you, but, I feel like there's something more going on here, and...I care for you so much. I want to better understand. Better understand you, where you're coming from, and how I can be a better partner to you."

You don't know what happened. All of a sudden you felt your face screw up as tears started to form in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice coming out strained. She shuffled in closer and cupped your face anew.

"Hey, hey. Don't apologize. It's okay to cry. Take your time. I'm here." She caressed your hand and though you couldn't hold her gaze for long, you felt her caring eyes upon you. "You can talk whenever you like – if you like."

A few stifled sobs snuck out of you and you rolled your eyes at your lack of composure. She waited patiently and laid a lingering kiss on your forehead. You took a few deep, steady breaths and began to speak.

"I-I don’t know where that came from," you explained, forcing a mild laugh. She didn't return your laugh and you grew serious once more. "I," you spoke and your words faded. You took another quick breath and set your shoulders back. "I'm just not used to being treated like that. Like you did just now. And," your gaze flicked away out of guilt, "I don't know what to do with it. And I have a very hard time trusting it."

Jessie pulled her hand away from your face to take your other hand again. "Okay. Um. Well, first off, I'm really sorry that you're not used to being treated that way. You deserve to be treated with respect and care." She exhaled quietly. "Can I ask how you're used to being treated?" She rushed to explain. "It's not really my business – and I don't want to open old wounds, but if I knew, it would help me ensure I don’t inadvertently make you feel that way again."

You sighed wearily, blinking back new tears. "Well, I guess they're clearly not old wounds since they flared up again so easily." You pulled your hands back and brought them up to your temples. "I'm so sorry. This is such garbage that you're having to deal with this. I thought I was better."

"Baby," she coaxed gently, placing her hands on your legs and leaning in slightly, hoping to catch your eye. "Please do not apologize. Your feelings are totally valid. And we all have our pasts, and we each have unique hurt and pain from our experiences. And some things are not easy to heal, and I think it's fair to say that in some cases, some things never do fully heal. But, I'm here to help you navigate anything you may be going through as best as possible. I'm here to care for you, not hinder you."

You dug your fingers into your face briefly before dropping them to your lap with a breath that was half sigh, half laugh. You looked at Jessie, taking in her soft brown eyes that searched yours with compassion and sincerity. How did she choose you?

"Oh my gosh." You sniffled. "No one's ever said anything like that to me. Certainly not my ex."

Quiet realization dawned on Jessie's face before she settled back in, remaining focused on you. She waited wordlessly for you to go on. You scratched the back of your head briefly, eyes trained on the floor before you forced yourself to look up at her.

"Remember how I said things with my ex were rocky at times? Well. That was putting it lightly, really." You took a breath. "She could be so affectionate and loving one moment – like I was the center of her universe, and then cold and cutting the next, like I was some burden she had the unfortunate task of dealing with. And she never meant what she actually said – I always had to read between the lines. She'd tell me things are fine, but," you laughed ruefully, "they were not. She'd be withholding, and curt, making passive aggressive remarks. But anytime I tried to address things or call her out, she would insist that it was just me and everything was fine.

"That is, until we'd inevitably have a blow out of some kind, and she'd make it very clear that it was always my fault. That I was being difficult and if she was being cold or mean, it was to protect herself and it was my fault for making her feel or act that way. "

Jessie let out a brief laugh of disbelief, looking at you in mild shock. "Are you serious? That's-" She caught herself mid-sentence, exhaling momentarily before continuing. "That's unacceptable. So she gaslit you and made you feel crazy."

"All the time."

Jessie sat back briefly, slapping a hand on her thigh as she shook her head. "Wow. That's so horrible." She leaned back in and grabbed your hands. "I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that. None of that sounds fair or right. That would've been so hard to navigate." You wiped at a stray tear and let out a short, bitter laugh.

"It wasn't fun. And as you can see, it's royally messed me up." Your lip trembled. "And now you're dealing with the fallout. It's not fair to you."

"Y/N." She said your name tenderly and gave you a reassuring smile. "There is no 'dealing' here – I...I really care for you. And I want you to know that you're safe. I want you to be open and honest with me anytime something bothers you or hurts you. I want to build you up and make sure you see yourself the way I see you."

"See?" You asked, giving her a look. "I’m having a hard time reconciling these two experiences. Realities."

Jessie sighed softly and nodded. "I can understand that. I can only imagine how hard it would be to be with someone who is supposed to care for you and have your best interests in mind, but they're unpredictable or inconsistent in their feelings and actions. It would be hard to adjust after being in a relationship where your partner shows up differently depending on the day. Or uses their affection as a weapon or a bartering tool." She sighed again and lifted your hand to kiss your knuckles before clasping your hand between hers. "I'm so sorry, babe. You didn't deserve any of that."

You shook out your shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. "Except I thought I did for so long. And – I don’t know – I'm scared, I guess. She treated me so well at the beginning. And then over time things changed. Sometimes it's hard to believe that I didn't cause it in some way."

Jessie gave you a frown of concern. "You didn't. I promise you that. Everyone is accountable for their own actions – you shouldn't take responsibility or blame for her behaviour. We can all get frustrated or upset with other people – it's inevitable, but that doesn't give someone the right to mistreat anyone else." She frowned further, her tone now lowering slightly. "And she's an adult – she should be able to express her wants or needs without playing mind games with you."

You looked at Jessie, your eyes glistening with tears. You shook your head.

"Why are you being so good to me?" You looked away, frowning as your own frustration bubbled up once more. "I'm not even mad about it these days. Because I can't change the past, and I learned a lot about myself, what I want, and what I won't put up with anymore. But the worst part is that despite how much work I've done and how far I've come – you're sitting here, being incredible, saying and doing everything I ever dreamed of and all I can think is how long is it going to last until you change." You went on adamantly. "I know you're not her. At all. But, I've been burned before by someone who claimed to care. And apparently I can't seem to get over it."

Rightfully or not, you expected Jessie to get frustrated with you or even insulted by what you said. Instead, she studied you quietly and eventually her expression softened even further and she gave you a faint smile.

"You're right. I'm not her. And I hope I never meet her, because it breaks my heart to know that she hurt you so deeply. I really hope you know, or will know, that someone who loves you doesn't treat you the way she did."

She took a small breath, readjusting her position in her chair and grabbing both of your hands again. She stared down at them and started to speak.

"There's been something that I've wanted to tell you, but I haven't known when the right time would be."

She looked to you with a soft smile.

"I know someone who loves you doesn't treat you the way she did – I know that for sure - because I love you." She let the declaration hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "I love you. I have for a while now. Each day I wake up missing you if you're not next to me, and when I think of you I think of all the ways I want to love you – show you I love you. I want to make your life even better than it is today and do that for the rest of my life.

"Today, even with just the thought that I'd hurt you or upset you, I wanted to see what was wrong, what I did and how I could fix it so we can move forward together. I wanted to know how I could make you feel better. And then learning that you maybe didn't feel safe – I 100% wanted to reassure you that you should always feel safe and comfortable to feel your emotions and express yourself. I would never want you to have to edit yourself or hide.

"And I don't expect you to just 'get over' things. You are free to feel the way you feel, even if it means you can't fully trust that I'm being honest when I say these things. I hope you don't have to question these things forever, but I need you to know that I will always reassure you. And maybe even more importantly, that my actions will reflect my words."

She gave a light shrug and continued, her voice now playful. "And if you didn't notice, I'm a very patient and tenacious person, and it just so happens I'm very set on loving you for as long as you'll let me."

By the time Jessie finished speaking your lip was fully trembling and the tears were you fighting back were rolling down your cheeks. She was watching you calmly, waiting, and you covered your face with your hands. Your shoulders shook with a couple of soft sobs as you absorbed everything she just said.

She rest her hands lightly on your legs and idly caressed your knee with her thumb while she waited.

"Please don't hide," she coaxed gently. "Take your time, but you don't need to hide." A few moments passed and she added with a chuckle. "And I'm hoping those are good tears."

You laughed through your tears and lowered your hands to give her a watery smile.

"Of course they are," you told her, your voice thick with emotion. She cracked a smirk, sitting there so relaxed. You smiled further. Even if it didn't seem like it in the moment, being around Jessie always had a way of calming you and making you feel grounded. You launched forward and pulled her into a tight hug, which she readily returned with a soft laugh. She turned her head towards you to kiss the side of your head.

"I love you, too," you whispered as you gave her a squeeze and she clutched you tighter. She pulled back enough to look at you and this time she had tears in her eyes as well.

"You mean it?" She asked with a crooked and hopeful grin. You gave her a little disbelieving frown as you laughed.

"Of course I do. Jessie, how could I not love you? You're everything I could ever want," you assured her. She leaned in and gave you a soft kiss.

"I just want you to know that even though I said it, it doesn't mean you need to. If you aren't quite there yet, that's completely okay. I'm not leaving until you tell me to."

You rolled your eyes in ongoing disbelief and gave a light shake of your head. "You can't be real." She scrunched up her face at you playfully and you leaned in, holding her face in your hands as you kissed her slow. "And for the record, I am very much in love with you."

When you pulled out of the kiss, Jessie was beaming.

"Then I'm a very lucky woman," she said decisively.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso #canwnt #jflem #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #portland thorns

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flemingsfreckles · 3 months

Text

Be a Good Teammate

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader

Words: 3.4k

Preview: After Jessie misses her penalty in the Gold Cup semi final, she’s found practicing kicks by her old friend and college teammate.

Warnings: some cursing, a little angst, but nothing else too crazy.

A/N: I haven’t written anything in maybe 4-5 years. Recently fallen back into reading and then watching the Canada/US game sparked some inspiration and here we are writing again.

You could hear her before you saw her. You had come out of the dressing room well after the rest of your teammates. They hardly showered just throwing on fresh clothes in a rush to begin their celebration for moving on to the finals of the Gold Cup. The stadium had fallen silent with the exception of a faint noise coming from the far end of the tunnel toward the pitch.

It was the repetitive sound of a ball being kicked followed shortly by the swish of the net. One after the next, boot on ball, swish of the net, boot on ball swish of the net. Working like a clock, a perfect machine, that was until the sound of the net was replaced by the ringing of the crossbar and the frustration of the kicker.

“Stupid fucking penalty” a frustrated voice rang out. The sound of the voice halted your steps, you knew that voice. Jessie. You quickly recognize the voice as your former best friend and UCLA teammate. Once you hear her, you quickly realized what was happening.

You’d seen her do this when you played together, anything from missed headers, missed passes, missed shots, and now with missed penalties. Jessie was known for being a hard worker, her focus and determination was admirable by her teammates and led her to earning the right to wear the captain's armband. She pushed herself to be better and while it was that mentality that turned her into one of Canada’s best, it also came with a whole other side.

She was hard on herself, more so than anyone else, and she took it to extremes. You had watched in college as she would spend hours watching film of her mistakes, tearing her performances apart, nitpicking every step she took. Criticizing every mistake to the point of obsession. One bad touch or one missed scoring opportunity would cloud her brain, unable to focus on anything else until she could fix that mistake, that mistake was all that would matter to Jessie.

“Be a good teammate to yourself Jessie.” Those were the words you told her constantly in college when you’d find her overworking herself. Running extra laps after an already grueling practice. Taking extra shots after a game, refusing to stop the repetitions until they were in her eyes, perfect. “Treat yourself how you treat all your other teammates, you support us, you provide positive corrections, you're kind. Talk to yourself the same way you talk with me or anyone else on this team, be a good teammate to yourself.”

And that’s how you knew exactly what Jessie was doing out on that field. She was retaking her penalty from earlier in the game, the one she had kicked into the arms of your team’s goalkeeper, letting the young and your teammates erupt in celebration behind her as she walked with her head down to her team’s bench.

Now you are stuck with your brain telling you to let her be, she’s not going to want to see you, especially on a night like tonight. Just go celebrate with your teammates, you thought.

You and Jessie had been close in college, so close most of your teammates were convinced you two were secretly dating. And to be fair to them, you wish you’d made a move on Jessie but you didn’t. Too worried about losing your friend and still trying to figure out yourself in the process. Now your college days were years behind you and you both moved away after graduation to play professionally, her with Chelsea and now in Portland and you with Bayren Munich and more recently with Seattle.

Your communication with your former best friend had rapidly declined over the years, you both got caught up in your new lives, new clubs, and Jessie had gotten a girlfriend. It wasn’t public information at the time but you were close enough that she shared the news, gushing about the girl over one of your nightly phone call. You knew deep down that girl is what pushed you away. Even though you knew it was never going to work out between you and Jessie, it didn’t make hearing about her new girl any less painful.

So you pulled back, with going from long facetime calls, to short catch ups, to texts. It seemed mutual as Jessie followed suit reaching out less frequently. She figured you were busy and had forgotten about her, seeing you make new friends in your new teams. These days you were lucky if you saw a “nice game” “congrats on the win” or even “happy birthday” come across your phone from the Canadian.

No bad blood stood between you two that she was aware of, except for maybe right now as you stood wearing the crest of the team that had just ended her tournament hopes.

While your brain was telling you to head for the parking lot and leave, forgetting you heard her taking the shots, your heart refused to let your feet move in any direction but toward the pitch. As you turned the corner she came into view. The bright white 17 with FLEMING printed neatly across the back of her red jersey became visible as you watched her set up her next round of shots.

Now you were frozen again, standing just inside the edge of the pitch, only your eyes moving, watching as she placed a ball, moved backward, took a deep breath and took the shot. It sailed into the upper left of the net. You watched as Jessie once again stepped back to ready herself, having already placed the next ball while you were watching her first one go in the net. Again she took a breath and fired into the net. She continued just as you had heard her before, booting the ball into the net. Over and over and over.

The stadium that had previously been filled with fans shouting, coaches calling out, music, liveliness was now eerily silent, just the sound of Jessie methodical work taking place. You weren’t even sure how long you had been standing there watching her, you’d maybe seen her take 10 or 12 shots, all screaming into the back of the net. The systematic movement and sound had lulled you into zoning out, only snapped back into reality when you realized the noise had stopped.

Jessie was moving toward the goal, collecting all the balls she had kicked, only now you could hear her mumbling to herself. Unable to make out what she was saying, you watched as she continued moving all the balls back to start her drill once again. She had turned around, her face more visible to you, eyes still down looking at the balls she was kicking. You could see her cheeks were still bright red and her skin was shiny with sweat, or maybe it was rain. Her mumbling had turned into her regular voice, allowing you to make out every couple of words.

“idiot…if I just made it… don’t deserve this…” You watched her rip the captain's armband from her bicep, throwing it aside.

You felt your chest grow tight, seeing and hearing Jessie so angry at herself was painful. She was the kindest soul, she had been your first friend at school and one of the only ones who stuck around through all 4 years. the only thing she didn’t deserve is to feel this way about her performance.

Maybe i should leave, you thought, let her work through this, she’ll be okay with some time, how much can you really help at this point, it’s over, there’s no point in making her more upset and,

“FUCK” Jessie’s voice intrudes into your thoughts as she punts the last ball with such anger that instead of landing just outside the box like the rest, she sends it sailing, landing only a couple of feet from you. You look at the ball rolling toward your feet, being slowed greatly by the wet grass.

“Sorry,” Jessie hollers with a wave and a different, more polite tone in her voice. She begins jogging over to you, “I didn’t realize they were coming to do pitch maintenance already, I’ll pack up and go-“ she starts to ramble as you realize she hasn’t noticed that it’s you who is standing in front of her.

You move your eyes down at the grass, kicking some up unsure of what to do now while you wait for her to reach you and realize you’re in fact not the maintenance crew.

“What are you doing here?” Her accusatory tone returns and you look up to meet her eyes. Just as you’d seen from across the field her cheeks remained bright red, a layer of sweat making her whole face shine. Her lips are slightly parted and her breathing is quick. Her brown eyes that you used to stare at everyday are now puffy, as though she shed some tears following the game and you can’t help but stare for a second at her black eye. She cocks her head at you and you realize she’s waiting for an answer.

“Um, I just… I heard you. And I just wanted to check on you,” you realize you should’ve spent some of the time you were watching her kick thinking of what to say to her.

“I don’t need your pity party,” Jessie scoffs at you “don’t you have some celebrating to do?”

“I’m not here to pity you,” her change in tone makes you get defensive.

“Then what? You’re here to tell me it’s okay? That it’s fine it’s just a penalty, and maybe it feels that way to you,” she stabs her index finger into your chest, her touch surprises you. Both being midfielders you had contact during the game but that was different.

Before you were just the opponent in the same way she was yours, you were aware of her but in that moment she was just Jessie Fleming, a Canada’s midfielder who you needed to get the ball from. Now she was Jess, the girl you were roommates with, the girl whose shoulder you fell asleep on during a long travel day, the girl who you tutored in calculus while she in return tutored you in physics. Her whole face now just inches from yours. You share a similar height with the midfielder, leaving you eye to eye. You can feel her breath as she continues.

“You made your penalty, and you don’t have to wear the armband, you don’t have to sit with the expectation of never missing a penalty, but I do. And you didn’t let your whole team down, I did. So maybe it seems like not a big deal to you because you’re not the one going home!”

You feel like sinking into one of the puddles on the grass, this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have bothered her. Before you can think of something to say Jessie starts again.

“Nothing? You have nothing to say to me? Then again, why did you come out here? To gloat? Because last time I checked, we’re not even friends anymore and that’s no fault of mine, that was all you, you ignored me, so why even bother? Just leave me alone, go away.”

Her words telling you that she doesn’t even consider you a friend anymore, sting. Sure it was nowhere near like it was before but you still would classify Jessie as a friend. You have every urge to tell her the truth, that you couldn’t stand seeing her with someone else and to protect yourself you took a step back. You wanted to tell her you never meant for it to silence your relationship, you just wanted to respect hers and that meant distancing yourself. Instead, you opted with the easy way out, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” her brown eyes roll as she turns away from you.

“Jess, wait,” the short form of her name falling out of your mouth on accident. Hoping she’ll stay, you reach out grabbing her wrist preventing her from turning all the way away from you.

“I promise I didn’t come here to give you pity, honestly I’m not sure what I’m doing here.” You feel her shake your grasp from her wrist but instead of leaving she turns back facing you. “I just, I heard you and, I,” You try looking into her eyes but she’s staring at her hands that are fidgeting with the hem of her jersey.

“You already said that.” Jessie cuts you off

“I know, I know, I just,” you bring your hands up to cover your eyes rubbing your fingers along your forehead, hoping you’ll be able to squeeze the right words out of your brain. “I think I wanted to see you.” You admit finally, hoping it’s not too much at the moment.

“We just played 120 minutes against each other, you had plenty of chances to see me.” She throws back at you, her brown eyes still avoiding yours.

You begin to feel a tightness in your throat, a feeling all too familiar to you, making it harder to breathe, you start blinking away the tears that are trying to surface. You’re grateful she isn’t looking at your face. you recognize the same emotions that you felt when she had told you she was in a relationship.

Jessie had been so excited to tell you, and you tried your best to act excited for her, you really did. You had forced yourself to ask questions you really didn’t want to know the answers to. Asking about their first date, first kiss, other firsts, what Jessie liked about her, providing the typical best friend interrogation. What Jessie didn’t know was when she had hung up the phone, telling you she had to go as she was going to spend the night at her girlfriend’s, the tightness had taken over and you burst into tears.

In the moment it didn’t make sense to you, you summed it up to missing her and missing spending time with her. It took a couple months to realize your feelings were ones of jealousy. You wanted to be the girl she spent her nights with. You wanted Jessie to call up Janine and gush about you, not some other girl. And that’s when you started to pull away.

“That’s not the same, I, I just wanted to see you,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to relax before tears spill over, “I miss you.” The words come out as a whisper, almost quiet enough that you hope Jessie didn’t hear and you can move on.

A silence falls between the two of you, Jessie’s fingers are still playing with the hem of her shirt, her eyes glued to them. You look up, staring at what would be a starry night had it not been for the rain clouds covering the sky. It feels like time stops, neither of you moving, no one says anything. You stand there, looking up, while Jessie stands, looking down.

“Why now?” Jessie’s voice cracks, you can’t tell for a second if she’s looking for an answer but she continues on, “You could’ve called, or at least texted.”

“It takes you 3 to 5 business days to respond to a text.” A small laugh comes out as you say the sentence, hoping it’ll lighten the mood.

“I know, but for you,” she pauses slightly, “I would’ve answered in a heartbeat.”

Her words catch you off guard and you swing your head down. You unexpectedly meet Jessie's eyes. She’s got one hand running through her damp hair, the other resting by her side. Her stare feels intense, being under her watch gives you a feeling that sits somewhere between comfort and cowardice.

You’re lost for words, racking your brain for the right thing to say. Part of you says fuck it, tell her you love her, that you want her in every way, tell her you were jealous, you couldn’t stand seeing her with another girl, you want her to be yours and only yours.

The other and far more logical part of you says push it down, you don’t want to scare her off, you want your friend back, even if it means hearing about her girlfriend.

You’re saved from having to make a choice between the angel and devil that split your brain as your phone buzzed and a slew of texts from Lynn and Midge came in. You quickly grab your phone from your sweatpant pocket, turning the ringer off to silence the tone from going off again. You quickly skim the texts which consist of variations of ‘where are you’. You catch the time at the top of your screen realizing the game had ended nearly 2 hours ago. Sure, you had done some media, showered, and changed, but you hadn’t realized how late it was and just how long you had been standing around either watching or talking with Jessie.

“You should probably join them.” Jessie says, almost as if she could see your texts from your teammates asking when you were going to be at the bar.

“Yeah I probably should, I didn’t realize the time. The last thing I need is them sending a search party and finding me with the enemy.” You nudge her with your elbow. She gives you a quick tight lipped smile.

“I’ll uh, I’ll see you around?” You add in a raise in your voice in hopes she takes that as an invitation.

“I don’t know,” Jessie pauses, eyebrows creasing as she thinks of what to say next. “It’s just, I’m dealing with a lot right now, moving, captain responsibilities, some personal things. I just don’t know if I can add another thing on my plate right now. Maybe give me some time?” Her response isn’t the one you wanted, but you realize it’s better than a complete shutdown on her end. At least some small part of her was open to letting you back in.

“Of course, I understand the moving countries part, I mean. The rest of your stuff I don’t know about, I mean the personal stuff, and then the captain part.” You find yourself rambling at her. “But yeah that’s fine. I’ll be going.” You point your thumb in the direction of the tunnel.

She turns away, this time you let her walk away. You watch her for a moment before turning yourself and heading back to the tunnel toward your car. Just when you reach the start of the tunnel you hear it again. The sound of Jessie’s boot kicking the ball and the sound of the ball hitting the net. You turn around watching as she grabs another ball between her hands, rolls it around and then bends down to place it.

“Hey Fleming,” you call to her as she releases the ball on the ground and starts to map out her steps. You watch as she turns back over her shoulder locking eyes with you, raising her eyebrows nonverbally acknowledging your call, “Be a good teammate to yourself.”

You carry on to the parking lot, picking up your phone and calling Lynn to let her know you were leaving the stadium now. While you were too distracted on the phone, what you didn’t realize was the absence of the sound of Jessie kicking the ball.

Your words had caught her off guard, she hadn’t heard it in a few years, you last said it to her after she had a rough game at Chelsea. The simple phrase brought back feelings surrounding you that she had pushed down for a while now. She stood, staring at the ball she had just placed, taking a deep breath like she did before every penalty. Only this time, instead of stepping toward the ball with force, she simple walked toward it, picked it up and headed to grab the bag and clean up. She realized she had punished herself enough, the loss still hurt, but with your words and the smile on your face as you said it fresh in her mind, it hurt a little less.

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #canwnt #portland thorns #canxnt #woso x reader #woso imagine

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