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the-goldenbunny-diaries · 10 months

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Masseuse (M)

⚢ Pairing - Nayeon x Reader

✎ Word Count - 2.7k

☆ Genre - Smut

♡ Description - After being yelled at by your boss, you look for a source of release, deciding to make an appointment with a masseuse for a bit of stress relief. (A/N: This isn’t proofread so I apologize if there are typos.)

★・・・・・・★

"Really, Y/N! I can't believe you actually did that! Such a rookie mistake," Your boss shook his head, ridiculing you. You work at Sapphire Business Company, a division under Gem Industries. Sapphire works specifically with the customer support side of Gem. Unfortunately, you were caught up with her newest task: training a newbie, Tzuyu, who didn't know how to code a lost and replaced item properly. You were called into her boss's office because Tzuyu coded it as just a lost item that had not been replaced yet. So, returning to the present, your boss is yelling at you, blaming you for Tzuyu’s mistake.

"I really expected more from you. You've been working here for over 4 years now, Y/N. You should know better," He scorned. You tried your best to explain to him that it wasn't your fault, that it was your new coworker's mistake, but he wouldn't listen to you. You just had to sit back and listen to him blame you for something you didn't do.

"Y/N, you're now on probation starting now. You're not going to come into work tomorrow, nor for the rest of the week, and you're certainly not going to get paid for it either. Maybe you'll learn that you need to make sure everything is right before you send it in." You looked at your boss with an utterly shocked face, freezing in place. “You may leave now.” He spoke sternly before you politely bowed and walked out of his office. As soon as she left, however, you silently cursed him out.

“How could he blame me for something that Tzuyu did?” You thought to yourself. You felt a strange feeling coursing through your body, almost as if every muscle was tightening due to the stress that your boss just caused you. After a few minutes of this, it was almost painful to move due to how tight your muscles had become. It was an experience you’d never felt before and was certainly not one you would wish on your worst enemy.

You sighed as you finally sat down in your car, slightly relieving the pain in your body. "Shit, I've gotta fix this somehow. I’m not going to be able to do anything like this."

★・・・・・・★

Driving down the road seemed to calm you some, but even the soothing music couldn't help the tenseness inside your muscles. When you pulled up to a red light, you quickly grabbed your phone and looked up local massage places. The closest one with the highest reviews was Ciao Bella. You laughed at the name, which meant “Hello Beautiful” in Italian. Since the spa had the best reviews, you decided to give them a call. You rang the number as you continued to drive. After a few rings, a young female picked up.

"Hello. This is Ciao Bella Spa. This is Nayeon. How can I assist you today?" She said.

"Uhh, hi. I'm looking to schedule a massage for this afternoon." you almost stuttered. The voice that spoke to her over the phone was alluring and made her want to simply listen.

"Of course. Let me pull up the schedule for you." You heard some clicking before the woman spoke again. "Alright, so are you a first-time customer?" Nayeon asked.

"Y-yes." you almost died when she heard Nayeon’s little giggle over the phone.

"You're so cute. So, we have two massage therapists in today; one being myself and one being Sana. We're both pretty good, but I normally start with new clients." Nayeon explained.

"O-okay sure. What time are you a-available?" You asked, your voice continuing to fail you.

"I'm open anytime after 2." She said. You glanced down at my Apple watch and saw it was 1:47. You thought for a moment before speaking.

"Can I come in around 2:30? That gives me time to get from work over to you?" You responded, finally being able to speak without stuttering or pausing.

"Of course, I'll see you then---." Nayeon’s voice trailed off as if she was waiting for you to finish her sentence. You gasped as she totally forgot to give Nayeon her name.

"Oh my goodness. I am so sorry. I forgot to give you my name. I'm Y/L/N Y/F/N." she said.

"Alright, Y/N. You're in the books. I'll see you soon!" you smiled before you said goodbye and hung up. When you set your phone down, you looked in your rearview mirror and noticed that your cheeks were covered in a light pink hue.

"Why am I blushing," you asked yourself.

★・・・・・・★

You pulled up to Ciao Bella Spa a few minutes before you appointment, so you decided to go in a look around. As you entered the building, you immediately noticed that the whole spa was very modernized. You really liked the way it looked, and you instantly felt comfortable. As you slowly walked around, looking at all of the products laid out in the front of the store, a young woman walked around the corner and came up to you.

"You must be Y/N. I'm Nayeon." She smiled a gummy smile as she extended her hand out to you.

"Pleasure to meet you, Nayeon." You returned the smile and shook her hand.

Nayeon gestured to you to follow her over to the front counter. As she went around the back, she grabbed her a piece of paper and a clipboard. "If I could just have you fill this out for me real quick just so I can get a general idea of what you need." you nodded and sat down in one of the chairs in the main lobby. To sum up the form, it asked where her pain was, which right now was everywhere. You chuckled to yourself as uou filled it out and couldn't wait to see Nayeon's reaction.

Once you finished, you walked back up to the counter and gave the paper to Nayeon. She smiled before she skimmed over it. She gave you a funny look before she spoke.

"You hurt everywhere?" Nayeon laughed.

"Yup," you spoke, popping the P at the end. "Work stresses me out."

"Girl, same!" She smiled, and you both laughed. "Alright alright, let get you into the room and get you de-stressed." You followed her down a nice hallway and into a room with a sign above it that said: Venice. The room was extremely nice and was very calming. The lights were dimmed and there was a small water feature hanging on the far wall. Yiou looked around for a second before turning back to Nayeon.

"So, I'm going to leave you for a second. Just undress as much as you feel comfortable doing and hop on the table face up." Nayeon smiled before she left the room. You quickly took off her clothes until you was just in your underwear and climbed under the sheets on the table. She was surprised to feel that the table was warmed. You shifted around a few times until you were comfortable and closed you eyes. As you took a couple of deep breaths, you listened to the flowing water fountain. You was so relaxed that you almost dozed off until a knock on the door brought you back to Earth.

"You ready?" You heard Nayeon call from the other side of the door.

"Yes ma’am," you said as she opened the door.

"Y/N, I'm probably only a year or two older than you. You don't have to call me ma'am." She dimmed the lights further then walked over to the side of the table. She pulled out a couple of tools and oils before she sat in a rolling chair behind you.

"So, I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes," Nayeon spoke in a very soothing tone. You did as she said as Nayeon started the massage. There’s two things you noticed immediately: 1) she was very good at what she does and 2) her hands were massive. You sighed as Nayeon’s fingers rubbed your temples, already relieving some of the tension. As she continued, she gave your head a massage, which caused a ton of chills to run down your body. Then, Nayeon moved to your upper body. She grabbed some of her massage oil, put it on her hands, and started to move them along your neck and shoulders. You internally laughed at the number of knots she felt Nayeon start to rub out. Her hands seemed to cover your entire shoulder and she continued massaging. As Nayeon finally rubbed out one of the bigger ones, you accidentally let out a sound that was similar to a moan.

You felt Nayeon pause for a moment before continuing to massage your neck. "You okay? Am I going too hard?" She asked you.

"N-no no, you're f-fine." You said, gripping the sheets underneath you and trying your best to keep in the sounds you desperately wanted to make as Nayeon continued to get the knots out of your neck. Everything she did just felt so pleasurable, especially with her massive hands, and sent shivers through your entire body. Nayeon must have been able to tell because, at that moment, your eyes went wide as you felt a pair of lips on her shoulder. At first, they were light pecks but soon turned into little kisses and nibbles. You couldn't hold back anymore and let out a moan. It wasn't loud, for you were trying to be quiet, but Nayeon definitely heard it.

"You like that, princess?" Nayeon spoke in a sultry tone, the pet name making everything hotter. All you could do was nod, for no words would come out of your mouth. Nayeon found your sweet spot, and you felt her smirk on her neck when she bit down on it, causing you to moan a little louder. "Shhhh." she cooed. "You've got to stay quiet."

You nodded again as you bit your lip, trying your best to hold back the sounds that fought to come out of your mouth. You watched as Nayeon got up from her chair and came around the table so that she was on your right side. Nayeon grabbed the sheet and folded it over so that your upper body was now exposed. You shivered as the cold air hit your skin, but that was quickly forgotten as Nayeon started to run her fingers across your chest. She started just below your collarbone and worked her way down towards your breasts. Heat instantly filled your cold body when her hands pinched your nipples, causing you to gasp. Your back arched into Nayeon’s touch as she continued to play around, teasing you like crazy.

At this point, you knew your underwear was soaked through. There was no way they weren't. If you was being honest with yourself, you was probably dripping onto the table. You tried to squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of the growing pressure between your legs. However, Nayeon wouldn't allow it. She removed one of her hands from your breast and use it to push your legs apart again, making you whine slightly.

"Patience is a virtue, baby girl." Nayeon husked. That alone turned you on even more. Your hands had not once moved from grasping the sheets, for you needed something to help with the building in your core. Continuing with what she started, Nayeon moved her hand back to your breast, making sure they were thoroughly massaged and your nipples were standing tall. Once they were, she slowly moved her hands south toward where you needed them most. However, she was going at a snail’s pace just to tease you more.

"N-Nayeon...." you moaned. "I--"

Nayeon just smirked as her hands reached the hem of your underwear. You quietly thanked the Lord above for not putting on granny panties. Nayeon grabbed the waistline, pulling them up slightly before letting it go, letting it snap against your skin. When a whine came out of your mouth, Nayeon ripped the rest of the sheet off your body, leaving you fully exposed, except for your underwear. Although, that didn't last long.

"Baby.... is this all for me?" She asked as she ran a long finger across your covered slit, feeling all your juices that soaked the fabric.

"Y-yes." you stuttered. "All for y-you."

Nayeon smiled smugly as she leaned down and grabbed your underwear with her teeth, pulling them down slowly, before discarding them to the side of the room and returning to her spot between your legs. You moaned just at the sight. The way Nayeon’s lustful eyes sparkled up at you almost had you cumming then and there. Her large bands started to caress your upper thighs and before long, you felt Nayeon’s tongue run a straight line up your now exposed slit, causing you to throw a hand over your mouth, muting a loud moan.

Nayeon expertly moved her tongue around in a figure-8 shape, causing you to lose your mind. You moved one of your hands from the sheet and laced it through Nayeon’s hair, pushing her head closer to your core. The pleasure got more intense, however, when her right hand moved from your thigh to your clit. If you weren’t already putty in this woman’s hands, you knew you were done for. As soon as Nayeon applied pressure, you had to bite down on your hand not to scream out Nayeon’s name. The amount of pleasure you were receiving was indescribable.

"P-please Nayeon" you whisper-yelled at her.

"You're not allowed to cum until I tell you, sweetheart. It'll be better in the end." Nayeon said as she continued to eat you out. You could almost feel the smirk against you as your back continued to arch and moans continued to spill out of your mouth.

"Play with your breasts, Y/N." She commanded before her fingers and her tongue switched places. You moved your left hand that had been white from gripping the sheet so hard to your left breast, kneading it as Nayeon had done before, although your hands were not as big as hers. Nayeon's tongue began to flick against your clit as her fingers started to poke and prod at your entrance, making you start to beg for her.

"N-Nayeon please." You never thought that you would stoop low enough to beg for something, but here you were and you didn't regret it. When you spoke, Nayeon slowly moved two long fingers into you, letting you get used to them before she started to pump them in and out. Once you got used to the speed, you started to move your hips in rhythm with Nayeon’s fingers. Within a couple of minutes, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your core clenching around her fingers.

"I-I'm close, Nayeon." You moaned.

"Not yet." She smirked.

You whined as Nayeon pumped her long fingers quicker, making it a lot harder to hold in your impending orgasm.

"P-please Nayeon. I d-don't think I can h-hold it in anymore." You begged again.

"Cum for me, princess." You almost yelled as Nayeon said those words, finally feeling the release you'd been wanting. Your legs shook violently as your hips bucked against Nayeon’s fingers. She made sure she didn't let any of your cum go to waste, swallowing it all. Your whole body trembled as Nayeon started to slow down her fingers and her tongue, letting you come down from your high. You laid there panting as Nayeon grabbed the sheet again, laying it on top of you.

"How do you feel?" Nayeon asked you, a slight smirk visible on her face,

"Better. More relaxed." You breathed out, still out of breath from the mind-blowing orgasm that happened mere minutes ago.

"Glad I could help. I'll leave you to get dressed." Nayeon smiled as she left the room.

★・・・・・・★

As you went to get off the table, your legs gave out from underneath you, causing you to grab onto the table for stability. You quietly laughed at yourself. "She really did me good, didn't she?" As you get dressed, you glanced under the sheet Nayeon had placed on you and notice the dark spot where your cum had seeped onto the sheets. You’d have to apologize for the mess. As walked out of the room and went back into the main lobby, you saw Nayeon standing behind the counter with a bottle of water in her hand.

"Here, thought you might need this. Your throat might be dry from all that moaning." She whispered the last part, laughing as she saw the blush that crept onto your face.

"T-thanks. I’m sorry about the -uh- mess in there" you smiled shyly at her.

Nayeon smirked before opening the computer. "It’s no problem. I’ll keep them for your next visit.” You gasped while she just giggled and continued. “Speaking of which, when would you like to set up your next appointment?"

#kpopidol #kpop imagines #kpop gg #kpop #nayeon #twice nayeon #smut #twice smut #nayeon x reader #twice x reader #kpop smut

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unknowndrone · 2 years

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The Family Left Behind

Natasha Romanoff X Reader

Prompt: It’s post snap and Yelena finds a strangely familiar little girl cleaning her sister’s grave

WC: 593

Yelena sees a little girl hovering over the grave. She eyes her intently, observing her actions. At first glance, she would’ve thought it had been a member of the public, a child who managed to sneak into the site to mangle with her sister’s grave. Yet, it seems the rumors were true judging by the number of familiar features that the child possessed. She had Nat’s green eyes and your y/h/c hair. It was indeed her sister’s child and her niece for that matter. The little in question was gently pushing away the leaves that were piling the front of the grave, gently mumbling some song under her breath as she does. A small pit grows in Yelena’s stomach at the sight of watching the child clean her mother’s grave.

As the child cleans, a familiar tune leaves her lips through a whistle. Yelena instantly lights up, and without hesitation, she fills the void of the tune. A smile forms her lips realizing you or Natasha must’ve taught the child the tune. The child jumps at the sound, instantly averting her eyes to the source. There, her familiar eyes meet Yelena’s.

“Aunt Yelena?” The child asks.

Yelena jumps in surprise. “You know who I am?”

The child smiles, jumping happily before running straight into her aunt’s arms. A dumbfound expression glosses over Yelena’s eyes, but nevertheless, she melts into the child’s grip, squeezing her back gently. “You came back! Momma said you would come back!”

Words get caught in Yelena’s throat. “Mo-wha-”

Before Yelena could move another muscle, a familiar voice echoes from meters away from them, calling for what seems to be like the child’s name. “Lena! Lena!”

You emerge from the bushes only to stop once you see the blonde being hugged to death by your child. “Oh! Hi!” You say happily but surprised. “Lena come over here and please don’t bother the nice lady,” you lightly scold. Only the child giggles before running into your arms, jumping happily.

“Y/N?” Yelena asks with raised eyebrows.

You furrow your eyebrows, “Yes?”

A lump forms in Yelena’s throat as she tries to maintain her own composure. This was her, the person that Natasha had been speaking about with so much life in her eyes, the person that Natasha would talk about nonstop if there was someone who would listen. It was you, Y/N, Natasha’s light. “I’m-uh- I’m Yelena.”

It takes you less than a second for things to click together and your eyes soften. “Nat’s sister.“

Yelena nods weakly, “yes. Yes, that’s me.” She begins stumbling on her words, “sorry, I-I’m just.”

She looks as if she was on the verge of crying as her bottom lip begins to quiver and her hands begin to shake. Without warning, you walk up to her only to wrap your arms around her frame. “It’s okay.”

Truthfully you had known plenty about Yelena, too. Natasha would talk about her family all the time to you and you had always wanted to meet them in person. Preferably with Natasha by your side to introduce them to you, but it seems the world was not that generous with happy moments.

“Why don’t you stay for lunch and we can catch up?” You suggest.

Yelena could only muster a nod as she watches you begin to lead the way. When it takes you one second too long, Yelena only feels a small hand grabs her’s, dragging her along behind you. “Come on, Aunt Yelena!” Lena says happily.

The small gesture almost made Yelena’s soul combust.

_______________________________

Thanks for reading! It’s currently fucking 9 in the morning because my window won’t shut and some bitch decided to blast music from their car. I will square up with the asscrack later. So excuse me for this impulse :) Nice to see you again. Have a great day/night and may you always stay safe!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #yelena belova x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow imagine #yelena belova imagine #fic: short #fix your window idiot

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littlespacereader · 4 months

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@dino-boyo-agere gave me such a wonderful Supernatural request that I literally had to break it up into two parts because I realized I was writing such a long story!😂 I promise your request is going to be the part 2 of this story because I feel the questions you asked in your request are better answered in the second part.

I decided to write something a little different for me. It’s not my standard comfort agere fic but I’m really proud of the interesting story that plays out here. There some LGBTQ+ acceptance, there’s some fun dialogue and there’s even a cliffhanger! You don’t need to read the other fics to understand this one, but if you’d like to here’s the first one in my mini series, and here’s the second one.

Please everyone enjoy the part one of this adorable Supernatural Age Regression fic! But please be warned with the trigger warnings below!

The Little Hunt Begins

(Part 1)

Little!Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

TW - the reason why there is no SFW tag is because of usual supernatural violence, language & kidnapping at the end. (Don’t worry this is resolved in part 2) Please be warned if this isn’t your speed!

Tags - hiding regression, diapers, thumb sucking, CG Castiel, LGBTQ+ confessions, brotherly acceptance!, cliffhanger ending, sorry not sorry, told by Dean’s POV,

Nickname - Sammy, ‘ammy

Click here for Part 2

The past few months have been the most peaceful months Dean’s had in years. With Castiel as his Caregiver, he’s been regressing regularly in the bunker with Castiel watching over him.

His peace would’ve continued if it hadn’t been for Sam finding a new hunt for the two of them. He doesn’t blame his brother, they have been inching to get out of the bunker for a while now.

But the thing is, it’s been a while since they had a hunt with Dean’s new regression schedule. The whole idea made him nervous, very nervous.

Dean paced back and forth in his room while Castiel sat on his bed.

“Why can’t you just let me ask Sam to join?” Cas asked.

“Because it will look suspicious! He’s already been questioning why the two of us are always together. I just…” Dean sat on the bed beside Cas, “I just don’t want him to know.”

Cas sighed, wrapping his arm around Dean, “You know, Sam might understand if you just take the time to explain it to him. With everything you’ve been through he might understand your need for regression.”

“No, NO! He can’t know Cas. He can’t.” Dean shook his head. “He wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t think you’re giving Sam enough credit. I think if you took the time to properly explain it he would understand.” Cas countered but Dean wasn’t listening.

He turned his body towards Cas, hiding his face in his shoulder. His arms wrapped Castiel’s neck. “He can’t know…I don’t want him to.”

Castiel sighed but nodded his head. His arms wrapped around Dean, holding his Little close. “Then he won’t know.”

“I’m just…scared. I don’t want to regress around him.” It was hard for Dean to admit it. After all, how many hunts has be done before Castiel found out about his regression? But now, without Castiel joining him, he felt vulnerable.

“You know that just in case you do all you have to do is call on me and I’ll be right there.” Cas started to explain, “But, I do have a plan that’s going to help you through this hunt.”

That got Dean to lift his head off Cas’ shoulder and look at him intrigued.

~~~

With a long goodbye to Cas, Dean joined Sam in the garage and the two took off to their hunt, miles away.

The car ride was quiet for the most part. Dean blasted his music while Sam played on his phone. But then the silence was broken.

“What’s been going on with you and Cas?”

Dean almost swerved the car.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always hanging out together. Like more than usual. Are you guys…um…”

“What Sammy? Spit it out.” Dean sighed.

“Are you guys a couple?” Sam asked.

Now that short circuited Dean’s brain all together. Here’s him worried about Sam finding out about his regression that the thought of this looking as if they were dating didn’t even cross his mind.

But now that he was thinking about it, he did like Cas. He’s a great Caregiver and he’s always been so kind to Dean even outside his regression. What if they were something more than just Caregiver and Regressor?

These are thoughts for another day when he isn’t so stressed about this stupid hunt!

A small blush started to creep onto Dean’s cheeks at the thoughts circling his brain.

“What? No. No we aren’t a couple.” Dean tried to say as cool as usual.

“Really? Because you seen all flustered at the thought of it.” Sam chuckled.

“No we aren’t dating Sammy. I would’ve told you if we were.”

There was silence in the car again until another question popped up.

“But you like Castiel?”

Dean’s heart dropped. Of course he liked Castiel. He meant everything to his little side. But he always meant everything to him outside of his regression. But this question wasn’t meant for that answer…but Dean still answered it.

“I mean…I don’t know, maybe. Would that be so wrong?” Dean asked with s pounding heart.

Sam shook his head, “No dude that wouldn’t be wrong at all. I mean if you like Cas that much maybe you should ask him.”

Relief filled Dean’s soul. Even though it wasn’t relief to his stresses about his regression, it was relief that his brother, despite everything, still loved and accepted Dean for who he was.

“Maybe I will, maybe I will.” Dean smirked. “What about you? Anyone on your radar?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to turn pink, “What? No. No, there’s no one on my radar.”

“I don’t know, I hear you always on the phone with someone. Maybe they’re a special someone?”

“Yeah you wish.” Sam chuckled.

“More like you wish.” Dean chuckled back. “Come oooooooooonnnnnnnnn, who are they?”

Sam smiled as his face got more pink. But he looked a little nervous at the admission, “He’s…um…he’s unexpectedly really kind.”

“He?” Dean laughed, “Would you look at us Sammy?” He laughed. Sam laughed too. Would you look at them. Both perfectly accepted for who they were.

“Just make sure whoever this he is knows that if he hurts you I’ll kill him.”

Sam chuckled, “Yeah? Okay Dean.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

“I’m not kidding I will! This guy better watch out.” Dean added trying his best to be intimidating.

~~~

Castiel’s plan was simply yet perfect for Dean. Dean’s biggest fear is regressing in his sleep and waking up to a wet bed. The solution? He secretly wears his usual diapers to bed.

But how will he get around Sam seeing?

Well every night he’ll take a shower and hide the diaper his pajamas. After he’s showered he’ll change into a diaper and just hop into bed, go straight under the covers and avoiding Sam’s detection all together.

Then in the morning he’ll wake up early, get changed while Sam sleeps and throw the wet diaper away.

It’s a fool proof plan Cas came up with!

They traveled all day and settled into their hotel for the night. Sam sat at the hotel’s table and researched away the case.

“Apparently there’s been a lot of mysteries happening to couples in the area dating back to the 1600s. Most called it witchcraft.” Sam explained.

Dean sighed, “So we’re dealing with witches?”

“Sounds like it.” Sam sighed back closing his computer before getting up to flop into his hotel bed.

Dean took it as his que to get ready for bed. With shaking hands he grabbed his pajamas with the diaper hidden inside and stood up.

“You need the bathroom before I shower?”

“Ummmm, no. No, you’re all good. Thanks.” Sam replied before turned his attention back to his phone.

Dean nodded before slipping inside. With the door shut behind him, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

After a shower and a quick change, Dean was shaking from nerves…again. With his diaper on under his clothes he feared the couple of steps from bathroom to bed would scream to Sam that he was wearing a diaper.

But it didn’t. Dean carefully made his way back to his bed and under the covers before Sam has even realized he left the bathroom.

When he did realize, Sam got up to use the bathroom himself. When he returned he turned off the light and wish his brother a good night before heading off to bed himself.

The plan worked!! Dean turned to his side and closed his eyes. Castiel’s plan had worked! Sam never said or suspected a thing!

“Thank you Cas.” Dean called out silently to the Angel.

A warm and calm presence wrapped around Dean, causing him to know the Angel got his message. His eyes slipped close as he felt safe enough to fall asleep.

~~~

The plan was fool proof. As the next day arrived Sam never got suspicious of Dean and his diaper.

They went out and talked to the police as they began their investigation of the murders. Then spent the rest of the day in the local library looking into the historical records.

“There,” Sam pointed out, “There’s a florist down the road from here that used to be the home of a famous witch’s house before she was evicted and well…” he trailed off.

“My guess is if they’re here, that’s where they would be hiding out.”

Dean yawned before patting Sam back, “Good work Sammy!”

He looked up at the clock in the library. It was too late to go today, this would have to be a mission for tomorrow. “Come on, let’s call it a day. We’ll go tomorrow.”

Sam nodded, rubbing his tired eyes, “Yeah that’s a good idea.”

~~~

After eating some take out, both Winchester were exhausted after a long day of working and researching. Both laid on their respective beds absolutely tired.

Dean didn’t feel like a shower tonight, too exhausted to pull himself into the shower and back into bed. But he did need to get changed discreetly. So he grabbed his pajamas, hidden diaper and tooth brush and went into the bathroom.

Dean changed for the night and was beginning to brush his teeth. He wasn’t in there long, maybe about 10 minutes when there was a frantic knock at the bathroom door.

“Dean…a-are you going to be long?” Sam asked with a worried tone to his voice.

“No, why what’s the-.” Dean opened the bathroom door, tooth brush still in mouth when he was ripped out of the bathroom by Sam. He promptly slammed the door in Dean’s face.

Dean stood there, a bit taken back. A thousand thoughts ran through his head as to what happened to his brother, but one image stayed in his mind. Sam was holding himself, as if he was about to have an accident.

Dean was sure he saw it, a move he himself had done on occasion when he was so deep into his little headspace he almost forgot to go potty. Could Sam be…What?! No. No! Well…maybe?

With a thousand thoughts running through his head, Dean took a seat on his bed and continued to brush his teeth. Eventually Sam walked out of the bathroom, face red as an apple and avoiding Dean’s eyes.

Dean went to the bathroom himself, spit out his tooth paste and slipped back into his bed. Sam seemed as though he wanted to go right back to bed and avoid everything all together, but Dean on the other hand want to ask him questions.

“You okay Sammy?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I just…I just really needed to go pot-…really needed to go pee. That’s all.” Sam explained, face red as ever. “You were in there forever!”

“I was not!”

“You were too!”

“I was maybe in there for 5 minutes!” Dean complained.

“No! You were in there for wayyyyy longer. I was dying out here.”

Dean wanted to ask and say so much more, but he could see the topic easy really starting to get to Sam who was gripping his blanket to the point of almost ripping it.

“Alright, alright maybe I was in there for too long. I’m sorry. I just…I just wanted to ask because I’m was worried maybe you were feeling sick or something.” Dean asked, starting to sound sincere.

Sam’s grip on the blanket ceased when he heard Dean’s honest answer. “I’m fine Dean. Like I said…just had to go pee.”

“Okay, I was just worried. Good night Sammy. Sleep well.”

“You too Dean.” Sam added before turning over and going to sleep.

Dean turns over as well and tried to go to sleep but his mind races with a thousand possibilities, one of them being Sam as another Little just like him.

~~~

Dean slept past his alarm and woke up a lot later than he wanted. He remembered hearing Sam on the phone with someone then the sound of the hotel room door closing.

His eyes fluttered open as he moved his thumb from his mouth to rub his tired eyes. WAIT. Dean sat up and moved his thumb far away from his mouth, wiping his face on his sleeve of any remaining drool.

He looked around frantically but thankfully his brother was out. He didn’t see Sam meaning Sam maybe didn’t see him sucking his thumb.

Dean sighed. He just wanted this case to be over so he could just go back to cuddling with Castiel and watch Scooby Doo.

But maybe they could wrap this case up today or tomorrow, then the idea of being with his Caregiver wasn’t such a far off idea.

Dean pulled himself out of bed and quickly got changed before Sam came back to the hotel room. In his hands were two plastic bags from the supermarket.

“Where have you been?” Dean asked.

“Good morning to you to sleeping beauty.” Sam joked quickly stashing one of the bags by his stuff before setting the other on the table. “I just had to grab something at the store for myself but I was kind enough to get us breakfast too.”

Sam threw Dean a box onto the bed he was sitting on. Dean leaned forward and grabbed the box, looking back up at Sam like he was crazy.

“What hell is this?”

“What do you mean?”

Dean help up the box of granola bars, “This is breakfast?”

“What? I always eat those for breakfast?”

“That’s because you’re 80. I can’t eat this! I need a real breakfast!” Dean could hear the twinge of his littler self in his voice.

“Come on dude, really?” Sam sighed.

Dean crossed his arms, “Really. I don’t want to eat this…this healthy stuff.” He felt the urge to stomp his foot but quickly stopped himself.

He uncrossed his arms and cleared his throat and tried to push his little headspace down, “Come on, let’s go get some real food. My treat.”

“I’ll umm….I’ll meet you there, I just need to go to the bathroom real fast and get changed…into my suit! For the case of course.” Sam tried to right away convince. But Dean could sense there was something more.

But he didn’t question it. He just took the que right away, “Don’t take too long, I’m starving. Meet you at the car.” He smile to try and reassure his brother before grabbing his keys and exiting the hotel room.

~~~

They never talked about it. Not at the breakfast diner nor at the drive to the florist. It didn’t stop Dean from having a million thoughts about what was happening.

It wasn’t his business, he knew it wasn’t. He asked Sam if he was okay, and he said he was. That was as far as he wanted to get into. But it was hard to stop himself from the thousand of possibilities running through his mind, mostly his brother being a Regressor like him.

But they had a case to get back to! So with stomachs full of pancakes they were in search of the witch florist! There was just one issue…the address they had was wrong.

So they drove, and drove, and drove around the town in search of this damn florist! Finally after a hour of driving around this stupid town they found the florist hidden away off the main road.

When the two walked through the door, the smell of the flowers practically smacked them in the face. Immediately both were taken back by the intensity.

“Boys! Welcome!” A woman at the counter welcomed them. “What brings you in today? Looking to get something for your girlfriends?” She should only know.

Sam walked around the flower shop while Dean walked to the counter, “I’m agent Graham and he’s agent Mobius. We’re investigating the murders of Julia and Andrews. The police told us they visited here before they were found well…”

“I heard. Oh it was terrible what happened to that lovely couple. They were so young and vibrant. It’s a shame really.”

“What were they in for?”

“Well, they seemed to be having some relationship issues. Apparently he never bought her any flowers. So she dragged him in here to get her some.”

“What flowers did they get?”

“Oh they got these ones over here.” The older woman led the way through the florist shop. Dean nodded his head to Sam to check the back while he walked with the older woman to another part of the story. He nodded back and went to it.

Dean followed the older woman as she made her way through the store. The store was loaded with different flowers, all different colors, sizes and scents. It was starting to get to him a bit. He felt dizzy.

“How long have you guys been here?” He asked.

“Oh, for many many years child.”

Child? That’s a strange nickname. But she’s old…old people have strange nicknames he guesses.

“Here we are. They ordered these.” She pulled a white flower out from a bundle and handed it to him. “They’re in season right now, take a whiff.”

Dean looked at the flower then looked at her. He needed to buy Sam some time anyway, plus what was one extra flower when he was smelling all of them since he entered the damn place. He brought the flower close and took a whiff.

Suddenly it was as if smell had punched him in the gut. He gasped and dropped the flower as he felt himself quickly being thrown into his little headspace without any control.

“What the hell was that?!” He backed up.

“Such big language for such a young boy like yourself. You hunters really should be more careful considering your headspaces.”

Dean could feel himself not only regressing but getting really tired really fast. He needed to get Sam and they needed to get out of here NOW.

He started to backtrack but he wasn’t as coordinated as he was before. He swayed from one wall to the other, trying to get to where Sam was.

“Sammy!!”

“Oh I’m sure your brother is being taken good care of.” He heard the older woman call out from behind.

He was moving more slowly, his eyes drooping and his regression taking hold. Tears fell from his eyes. “S-S- ‘ammy!” He wanted his brother! He would protect him. He would save him from this lady! He’s always so smart and he always has a good plan!

But before Dean could reach him fell to the ground, his head swirling. He look to the side and there was his brother, sound asleep on the floor just a little away from him.

“ ‘ammy.” Dean muttered, reaching his arm out to his brother before his eyes rolled back. He fell into a deep sleep as he longed for his stuffies, his toys, his sippy cup and most of all his Angel.

(AN- Oh no! Our boys are in peril! Don’t worry I’m currently writing part 2 while you’re reading this. Let me know how you enjoyed this change of fic writing. It’s a little darker than what I normally write but I kind of like the change a bit! I’ve got a darker moon knight fic in mind too. Let me know if you’d read something like that too. But back to this fic…what’s going on with Sam👀 Who’s he on the phone with all the time?👀 What’s up with that? All shall be revealed in part 2 with is from Sam’s POV. Stay tuned!)

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parasolids · 4 months

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i miss doing hourly comic day so heres a summary of my day so far

12-1 am: sleeping

1 am: i wake up needing to pee. i do that and go back to bed

4 am: i'm slipping in and out of sleep, dreaming. i vaguely remember a strange but interesting mall. in my dream they shut down the paint line for an emergency and i have to hurry through it in the dark like a maze, sprinklers dripping poisoned water into my hair. another dream and i'm at a party, and a girl from my high school is dead from alcohol poisoning and her parents carry her out wrapped in a white sheet, sobbing. i'm outside on the beach and they set her in the water. the waves pull away her shroud and all i see is her tattooed legs and i wonder if i really know this person, and then i see her face and realize i do. a popular girl from high school cradles her face in her hands. i rearrange the shroud around the dead girl when she begins to stir. she sits up wordlessly, the tide swirling around her, eyes unfocused. my alarm won't stop going off. i literally cannot get out of bed no matter how hard i try. i curl up under the sheets

5 am: i'm running very late and i don't want to use the work bathrooms so i skip my morning matcha. i drive to work and listen to an audiobook. it's kind of slow but not too bad

6 am: i sit at my desk for a while and then go upstairs to deal with a camera system

7 am: i continue dealing with the camera system, which isn't working for some reason, i chat with an engineer whose phone charger i've borrowed for the camera system, the guy i need to talk to isn't at his desk so i briefly hang out with one of my friends from IT til he shows up

8 am: we finally get the camera working and try setting it up. i look at the underbody of a car and see how many parts i can name from the bottom (from where i am i can see the frame, rear axle, axle wiring, leaf spring, heat shield, transmission, steering knuckle, driveshaft, brake caliper and rotor, fuel tank, catalytic converter, heat shield. there's some things i can't find or can't name, which is embarrassing, but it's all suspension parts and fortunately i'm not a suspension guy anymore)

9 am: we all go test a bunch of random trucks because our boss decided that's what he wanted us to do today. i catch a ride with some coworkers and think about eating lunch

10 am: still testing trucks. i'm mad because i want to listen to music but nothing's clicking and also i need to check for the car making odd sounds so i can't really properly listen to music. it's cold so i check the heating system first and test everything else while the car heats up. i warm my hands in the engine bay

11 am: i get back to the plant and then realize... i lost my wallet! and i can't get into the building without my wallet! and i've been getting in and out of a lot of trucks for the past two hours! and i don't remember which ones! and some of them might have been moved to another parking lot! i panic, drive back, and individually check each truck in the areas i was checking. luckily i find the wallet. i drive back to work.

12 pm: i eat lunch at my desk while handling emails because i used my lunch break on the wallet hunt. it's pizza and it's really good. i'm planning to chill for the rest of the day and then i realize i have to run a meeting at 1

1 pm: a coworker i like asks if i'm free in half an hour to help deal with an issue she's having. i tell her about the meeting. i speedrun the meeting. i've gotten a lot done over the past week so i bring a lot of updates to the table. after the meeting, i go to my coworker and we trade stories about work misadventures, and then i try to navigate the procedure she was having issues with but manage to spectacularly mess up and fail literally every single part, and then the machine stops working so we both just give up

2 pm: i ask an engineer a couple questions about how we handle a certain part, i leave work and hit the gas station. my mom gave me a gas station gift card she was gifted (her car is an EV and my dad rarely drives). it has less money than we thought so i can't fill my tank all the way. i get a horchata smoothie at the convenience store (i like getting a drink with my car when i fill her up, we bond over consuming liquids) but it tastes bad

3 pm: i drive home and listen to an album i won't name, which is really good but also vaguely anxiety inducing because i've taken a guitar lesson with the guitarist of the band and want to take more but trying to email him for scheduling is deeply anxiety inducing. i also listen to everything in transit by jacks mannequin which ive always loved but today it just sounds like noise.

4 pm: quick nap in bed and then i have the most wack telehealth appointment with my doctor in my life. she asks about my mood and i don't know how to tell her i'm having a really wild one so i don't. i don't want to talk to her about the whole issue i scheduled the appointment for but i do it anyways, which goes poorly.

5 pm: i clean my room, do something on my mom's car, completely mess it up, make a cup of coffee, do a covid test (which is broken), start taking the dishes out of the dishwasher, and realize i really need to pee so i sprint upstairs to shower

6 pm: shower. come downstairs and also kinda pissed off because i ran out of hot water despite showering pretty quick. i think i have covid because my dad has it and my throat hurts. i order a covid test from target. i eat dinner (frozen wontons and shrimp + a lot of fruit) and fantasize about smoothies

7 pm: i start writing this post and i comment on a reddit post. cringe. i work on stretching a piercing that fell out yesterday. this h urts.

8 pm: keep working on the post but i want to sleep now. i need to practice guitar. i was supposed to email that guy about guitar lessons... i work on music theory instead

#cactus.txt

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bg-sparrow · 1 year

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3, 6, and 7 for AO3 Wrapped

Eeeeee, another AO3 Wrapped ask! I'm having loads of fun with this, so please keep the numbers coming! I'd love to answer them all! Thanks for the ask, Jay!

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

I have to go with There Are No Roads. It was only meant to be this short interlude of a piece tying Parts 2 and 3 together in my series, detailing the 8 months Doc is in 1885 without Marty. And it turned into this beautiful novella with good original characters and fleshed-out canon characters and filling in the gaps that are mentioned in Part 3 — Fourth of July, what happened to the old school teacher to bring in Clara, Doc attending town meetings, Seamus being threatened about the Palace by Tannen, Tannen getting his horse shoed by Doc.

The best part was how original it was yet it was able to be slipped into canon believably. I'm incredibly proud of that. I know lots of people who read the Time Circuits Series skip it to get to Part 3, but it's absolutely a story I'm thankful that I got to tell. It was waiting in me and I never expected it. I hope for those who do decide to read the series, you don't skip Part 2.5!

6. Favorite Title You Used?

Oh, I love titles. I love thinking them up and waiting for the lightbulb to shatter over my head when I get so excited that it bursts from an idea clicking. I think that moment happened the most with my McFly July drabble collection, The Boy Who Leapt Through Time. The title is a play on the famous work The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, and switching it up to "Boy" made it obvious it was about Marty but it was also a reference to a famous work involving time travel (I love basing my titles off works of fiction/ movies/ TV that involve time travel in some way).

I did chapter titles in The Time Circuits Series in the same way, and my favorite chapter title this year was Another Time, Perhaps - Chapter 9 of There Are No Roads where I wrote what happened if Doc had been shot at the festival by Buford.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

I think in my fics recently, I've only put lyrics from Bryan Adams's "Heaven" in my series epilogue.

In general, I'm listening more to instrumental music or the mood of a song than the lyrics because they are rarely a perfect fit for what I need. I pull most of my inspiration from film composers. The story I just finished today, Once Upon a Time in the West, had a mini playlist with softer songs from 1883 on it for Ann's theme and foreboding tracks from The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford.

Though Marty's song to me is "You Might Think" by The Cars. I just love that song for him. Vibes hard.

Thanks again for the ask! Muscle your friends into sending more numbers!! :D

#ao3 wrapped #bgsparrow #fanfic writing #fanfic writer ask #answered asks #ask game #writer ask game #just for fun #ao3 #tumblr asks

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yhwhrulz · 10 months

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Today's Daily Encounter Thursday, August 10, 2023

Let Praise Arise!

"Around midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening."1

For the last twenty years, at least, I have made it a habit to play worship music anytime I get in my car. I used to commute to work every day, so filling my soul with worship was essential in keeping my attitude positive and kind in all circumstances because when you are praising God, it is really hard for negative thoughts to sneak in! As my children have grown, they too have gotten in the habit of listening to worship when we are driving. They will be the ones to put our favorite worship playlist on, even without me saying a word. On good days and hard days, we drive along, lifting our voices in praise, and I can't help but think of all the amazing things God has planned in all of it.

The other day, a song came on and I immediately got captured by the lyrics:

"Let praise be a weapon that silences the enemy

Let praise be a weapon that conquers all anxiety

Let it rise, let praise arise

We'll see You break down every wall

We'll watch the giants fall

Fear cannot survive when we praise You

The God of breakthrough's on our side

Forever we lift Him high

With all creation cry, God, we praise You"2

I often think of the apostle Paul and all the challenges he faced. In today's verse we see him sitting with Silas in prison, after being severely beaten. In order to keep them from escaping, the jailer had put them in the inner dungeon and clamped their feet in the stocks. Things didn't look too promising, but even then they lifted their voices in prayer and praise to the Lord. Then, all of a sudden, there was a massive earthquake that shook the entire prison, and all the doors flew open! The jailer, thinking that all had escaped, was about to kill himself when Paul stopped him. That jailer came to know Christ as his Savior that night. God can do amazing things when we choose to praise and lift Him high in all circumstances, and it is in the darkest times when our praise should ring the loudest!

Suggested prayer: Dear God, You alone are worthy of my praise. You are always good, and Your plans are good. Give me a heart of worship and help me be an example of faith and praise to others, so that they too will come to know You. Thank you for hearing and answering my prayer. In Jesus' name, amen.

Acts 16:25 (NLT).

"We Praise You" by Brandon Lake. Revival's in the Air, 2020.

Today's Encounter was written by: Crystal B.

NOTE: If you would like to accept God's forgiveness for all your sins and His invitation for a full pardon Click on: http://www.actsweb.org/invitation.php. Or if you would like to re-commit your life to Jesus Christ, please click on http://www.actsweb.org/decision.php to note this.

Daily Encounter is published at no charge by ACTS International, a non-profit organization, and made possible through the donations of interested friends. Donations can be sent at: http://www.actscom.com

ACTS International P.O. Box 73545 San Clemente, California 92673-0119 U.S.A.

Phone: 949-940-9050 http://www.actsweb.org

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greysslow · 2 years

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rafescoke · 3 years

Text

Jealous ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Rafe finds himself being jealous over his friends with benefit flirting with a certain blonde boy

Warnings: Straight smut, angst, cursing, alcohol consumption, jealous Rafe

A/N: i am so sorry JJ for making you the second choice for almost every fic ever i still ly :( anyways thank you for 380+ followers wtf you guys are beyond amazing <3 here’s the smut you guys have been craving for:

“You’re handsome.”

“Oh yeah?” JJ smiled, showing her his pearly white teeth. “You’re not too bad, (Y/N).”

“Just not too bad?” She glowered, and leaned closer onto the blonde boy. He stared into her eyes, feeling her body heat now that she was too close to him, and he could smell her sweet scent. She reminded him of an ice cream during a hot day.

“Fine,” he huffed, and watched as her mouth morphed into a smile. “You look hot, (Y/N).”

“Thank you,” she giggled, placing a soft kiss against his cheeks as he laughed along with her, putting his arms around her.

(Y/N) never really had anything with JJ, being friends with him since god knows when, but she wasn’t cool with his other friends. He was there for her, and she was there for him, but they weren’t what people would call as best friends.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” JJ asked, a glint in his eyes. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at this, being done explaining to him that she’s not dating Rafe Cameron and will never be. They were the total opposite; he’s a kook, and she’s a pogue.

“JJ, I don’t know what to explain anymore,” she grunted, resting her back against the lawn chair as she watched the partygoers dancing to the booming music. “He is not my boyfriend.”

“You’re always out with him,” he shrugged, and (Y/N) gulped before she could answer him. After being Rafe’s friend with benefits for 5 months now, she didn’t think anyone would notice their relationship. They did everything in their power to keep themselves lowkey, but here JJ was; spilling everything.

“I won’t judge, you know,” he said, and gave her a sly smirk. “I get it if you like a kook.”

(Y/N) laughed nervously, and then proceeding to cup his face in her small hands. Her breath hitched at how adorable he looked in her hands, and she felt the urge to kiss his cheeks.

“I’m not even friends with him,” she rolled her eyes, and JJ swung his arms around her one more time, this time pulling her close. They stayed in silence for a few seconds before JJ pointed to a couple by the fire, saying a joke, and (Y/N) had laughed from the punchline.

She didn’t know it was the humour or the alcohol taking over after how many shots of vodka since the start of the party. Whatever it was, she truly enjoyed JJ’s presence; her childhood friend.

Rafe Cameron entered the party with a brunette girl he owed his father to bring, and he had never looked so miserable being in a party before. People looked at them as they made their entrance, and Rafe almost let out an annoyed groan knowing that people will talk about him and whatever the name of the girl was.

His eyes swept over the swarm of dancing bodies to look for a particular (H/C) haired girl, but she was nowhere to be seen. He sighed, continuing to walk to where they served the drinks.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Rafe,” the girl said, and Rafe nodded, not wanting to make any unnecessary conversation with her. He tried to negotiate with Ward, saying how the business will still go on without him having to take whoever this girl is to the party, but Ward had insisted him to do so, saying how he should think about making his family proud.

Rafe grunted, and his feet moved towards the backyard. He was glad the girl didn’t try to follow him after seeing her friends, and he didn’t think he would even talk to her if she did. He didn’t know what he want; he was just as confused as everyone else.

“You think so?”

His head perked up at the sound of her familiar voice, and Rafe found himself searching for her small figure. His eyes passed the couple making out by the fire, some pogue munching on a burger, someone preparing to jump into the pool and then -

Her. And JJ.

He crossed his arms, his eyes not leaving her as he watched her laughed again, her head tilting to one side. Every time Rafe would tell her a joke she would do the same thing, and Rafe felt a minor pang of hurt across his heart after knowing that she did the same with JJ as well.

“You know I would love to, J,” (Y/N) said, running her fingers through his blonde hair. “But your friends just don’t like me.”

“They do!” JJ insisted, “They just think you’re too intimidating. I don’t know what they’ll think about you if they know you’re with Rafe.”

Rafe raised his brows at the sound of his name, but before he could express a proper reaction, he heard her speak.

“JJ, enough with his name,” she groaned, “I don’t like Rafe, and I will never like him.”

Rafe almost laughed at this because god, who does she think she is? She was begging for him every time they did the ungodly activity, pulling his hair and leaving scratches behind his back. Rafe had to explain to Topper and Kelce how it was Sarah’s new kitten that had scratched him when they went out for surfing, and they didn’t even have any pets.

He listened intently again, getting more amused every second. Although he wanted to hear more of their conversation, he couldn’t deny the hurt coursing through his veins at the sound of her voice practically hating on him. He didn’t know if it was an act or if it was the truth, but he didn’t like anything about it.

“Then be with me,” JJ mumbled, and Rafe watched as she nervously laughed as if that was the funniest thing in the world. Rafe stayed quiet, wanting to hear her reply to that plea, and his heart was beating so fast.

“You’re cute,” she suddenly said, pressing a slow kiss against his cheeks again. “I’m so glad I have you in my life.”

Was that a yes? Or was that a no? Rafe cursed in his mind, not having a clue about the truth behind what she just said, and before he could process it further, the girl that he came here with tugged on his arms, catching his attention.

He clicked his tongue, “Yeah?”

“I want you to meet my friends,” she smiled, and proceeded to pull him to her group of friends who were waiting by the corner. Rafe tried to maintain his grim smile, trying to figure out how in the hell this girl did not notice the obvious signs that he was trying to show;

He was not interested.

“Here’s Rafe,” she exclaimed to her friends, and continued to introduce them to him. He smiled weakly at them, not really hearing their names, his mind wandering to a certain girl a distance away.

“Rafe?”

“Huh?” He looked at her again, “What is it?”

“They’re asking if you’re joining the truth or dare game in a few minutes,” she replied, and she had a look that wanted him to say yes.

“No,” he shrugged, and he watched as her shoulders slump. “But we can stay, I guess.”

She cheered, and Rafe used almost all of his energy not to mutter anything back, and followed her to the middle of the party where everyone started to gather for whatever middle school games they were planning to play.

He sat right next to hear, flicking his lighter on and off, not paying any attention towards his surrounding until she heard the familiar laugh again.

(Y/N) giggled at something JJ had said, walking towards the circle and sitting opposite of Rafe. They didn’t notice his presence, being too caught up with each other, and Rafe watched as she laughed again. He gritted his teeth.

“Who’s playing?” A voice suddenly spoke, and Rafe assumed him to be the host of the party. He thought of how the party sucks and he could hold a better party than this, but when she saw (Y/N) saying that she will be playing, he knew he had to be in the same game as her too.

“I’m playing,” he said, and watched as the people around him stared at him. (Y/N)’s eyes widened at the voice and she quickly looked at his direction, and he watched as she tried to contain her shocked expression.

“Okay, we have enough people playing,” the host said, “We’ll start with. . . John B, wanna choose first?”

“Yeah,” John B sat up straighter, looking around the circle until his eyes landed on his best friend. “JJ, truth or dare.”

JJ put on the smirk Rafe hates, “Easy. Truth.”

The crowd groaned and some booed, but JJ still had the smirk on his face, yelling to the crowd that he was just trying to calm everyone’s nerves.

“Okay,” John B rubbed his hands together, “Who would you like to fuck in this room?”

The room fell silent as their attentions were on JJ, and JJ laughed before replying the question.

“Seriously? I thought you’re going to ask for my bank account or something, not that I have money in it. But (Y/N). I’ll fuck (Y/N).”

Rafe found himself gritting his teeth, staring straight at the girl who was also staring back at him. She had a teasing smile on her face and Rafe had to stop himself from pulling her out of this goddamn party and into his car.

“I’ll go with (Y/N). Truth or dare?”

He watched her again, his heartbeat quickening.

“Dare,” she shrugged, and the crowd cheered, finally getting any actions they were craving since the start of the party. Rafe sat up straight, wanting to see to what extend she would do something, and he would be lying if he says he wasn’t nervous.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

(Y/N) stood up from her seat, walking away from JJ and towards Rafe. He widened his eyes, not sure if she would actually do it or if she was messing with him, but she was clearly walking towards him and everyone knows it.

She leaned onto him and Rafe swore he could feel his heart stopping. He could smell her scent now; that goddamn cupcake smell he loves so much.

“You’re drooling,” she whispered, and turned on her heels.

She proceeded to return back to her position and kissed JJ with all of her heart and the crowd cheered, but Rafe was trying to calm himself down. He felt his anger rising, being humiliated just like that in front of everyone.

He stood up, ignoring the girl beside him’s questions and continued to walk upstairs, leaving the stupid game downstairs to smoke and probably snort some coke in his pocket. He didn’t know anyone here that much, being in a party outside of Kooksville and only knowing the pogues, but he’s not friends with them so he was totally alone in this case.

He entered a guest bedroom and proceeded to climb onto the bed, taking out his stash and unfolding a dollar from his back pocket.

“Hey.”

Rafe jumped to his feet, shocked to his core from the sudden voice, but he relaxed when he saw (Y/N), though he didn’t show it. He continued to separate the powder into lines, rubbing his nose a few times.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” He asked, sniffing and lowering his head to inhale the intoxicating substance. He threw his head back, feeling warm, and looked at her again.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, being questioned with “where’s the boyfriend?” almost two times now on the same night, and crossed her arms.

“You have no power to be mad at me, Rafe,” she said, and walked closer to him. He watched as she leaned onto him like she did downstairs a few minutes ago, “You’re not my fucking boyfriend, and you know it.”

Rafe laughed, his head getting woozy, but he couldn’t deny the amusement he was feeling at that time, and god he felt like doing the most filthiest things to her.

“And if I want to fuck JJ,” she continued, her face so close to him that her voice was just above a whisper, “Then I’m allowed to.”

“Oh yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, and he stared into her eyes with a smirk tugging on his lips. “You wanna fuck him? He can fuck you better than I can?”

Her breath hitched as he trailed his pointer along her soft cheeks from the temple, and he whispered again, this time with his face so close she could feel the heat from his breathing.

“I’m asking, baby, can he?”

One thing that (Y/N) hate was being challenged, and the look that Rafe gave her fit that exact meaning.

Before she could mutter anything else he attached their lips, moving so fast she didn’t have time to catch a breath. He pushed her over so her back was against the bed, her chest heaving, and Rafe had never looked prouder when he saw her in that state.

“Wanna be a bitch again?”

“Maybe,” she answered, with that twinkling in her eyes.

“Wrong answer,” he replied, and kissed her roughly again, hearing her moans and her fingers pulling on his already unkept hair, making them more messier. He groaned when he felt her biting on his lips, knowing that he would have to create a new lie to Topper and Kelce on why his lips are all bruised.

He pulled her apart again, this time with both of their chests heaving, and Rafe swore he had never looked at someone more beautiful than the girl before him. His eyes trailed down to her chest, seeing her breast all pushed up and her nipples hard against the cold air.

He licked his teeth, “No bra?”

“No-pe,” she giggled, emphasising on the ‘ope’. She inched closer to his ear, “Making it easy for you.”

“Thanks, baby,” he replied before kissing her fully on her lips again, and slowly going down to her core. He placed his wet kisses from her neck to her stomach and down to the aching heat as she arched her back from the tingling feeling, placing her palm against her mouth to silence herself.

He continued to place soft kisses on the outer side of her pussy, his member hardening when he could see the wet mark on her panties. He watched as she bit her lips, closing her eyes from just the kisses.

“Beg,” he whispered, and (Y/N) looked up from her laying position, feeling like dying at the slow reaction from him. She groaned, desperate for her release, and bit her lips.

“Please, Rafe,” she begged, withering as he ran his fingers along her thighs. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Before she could prepare herself he dipped in, collecting her juices with hid tongue and flicking back and forth on her clit. She couldn’t contain her voice anymore, whimpering and moaning his name as he continued to please her, liking the way she was so submissive under his touch.

Just like putty.

“Oh my god, you’re amazing,” she gasped, gripping onto the sheets with her fingers. “I’m close, Rafe, oh my god.”

He chuckled against her core, sending vibrations throughout her body and causing her to yell from the overwhelming pleasure, gripping on the sheets even harder she could feel it coming undone from the mattress. She could feel the familiar euphoric feeling inside of her stomach and arched her back to reach it, until-

“Rafe!��

“Huh?” He looked up to her, innocently wiping his mouth with the back of his hands as he crawled back go her. He gave her a smile, “What’s wrong baby?”

“I was so close,” she answered, with tears in her eyes. Rafe tutted, using his thumb to wipe a tear that escaped, and proceeded to press the thumb on her clit, causing her to jerk upwards in shock.

“You’re okay, baby?”

“You’re a dick,” she answered, and jerked again as he pressed his thumb into her one more time. “The biggest dickhead I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?” He raised his brow, and placed a soft kiss against her lips. “Should I go then?”

He made a move to go away and without any shame she pulled his by his wrist back, not letting go until he chuckled, placing himself before her again.

“Answer me one question,” he whispered, and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Me or JJ.”

“You.”

“Who?”

“You, Rafe.”

“Not my name,” he said in a sing-song voice, and proceeded to fake-yawn.

“You, daddy.”

He watched her with a smile on his face, leaning closer and pressing a kiss ok her cheeks one more time. “And will you be good to me?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Rafe was harder than ever, he could basically cum just by seeing her all worked up under him. His breathing was heavy, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck the girl before him.

“Okay, then,” he sighed, and before she could process anything he turned her over, exposing her ass to the air as the skirt she wore rode up to her waist, and (Y/N) felt a rush of cold against nipping on her skin.

She yelped as she felt his palm made contact with her cheeks, spreading his fingers and massaging them right after. He liked the colour of her skin now, all red, just because of him.

He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his boxers down, letting his member springing free and watched as his precum pooled on his tip, and quickly positioned himself before her.

“Please,” she begged, and that was enough for Rafe to push into her, closing his eyes and muttering a curse word while he felt her closing on him.

“Fuck, so good for me, baby,” he swore, fastening hid movements. The girl was practically screaming under him, and he had to place his hands against his mouth to keep her shut. He groaned, feeling the warm feeling inside him growing.

“Shut up, you bitch.”

She moaned at his words, taking a liking at the way he downgrades her since the first they had sex, and pulled on his hair as she tried to comprehend the euphoric feeling inside her.

“I’m close,” she warned, tugging on his back as he pushed into her, this time with a faster speed than before. “Fuck, I’m so close, baby-”

“Cum and I’ll fucking kill you,” he groaned, pushing himself into her that he ended up balls-deep, watching her scrunched up face trying to take his full length. He grunted, feeling his own end nearing, and getting ready to pull out.

“Fuck!” He yelled, aiming his penis at her face as he shot his load, and she could feel the hot leaks dripping off her face down to her neck. She didn’t reach her high, not wanting to disobey Rafe before, and she felt like crying her hardest.

“You’re crying now?” He laughed, cupping his face with his hands and watched as his cum dripped from her eyebrows down to her eyes, and he took the chance to clean them using his fingers before placing them before her eyes.

“Suck.”

“Fuck you,” she said, her eyes glassy.

“I said,” he leaned closer, placing his knee against her core and watched her jerked again, “Suck.”

She gritted her teeth and took his fingers into her mouth, tasting him and making lewd noises. Rafe watched her with his mouth slightly parted, his eyes a shade darker.

“You’ve been a good girl, princess,” he smiled, and made a move to hold her. She pushed his hands away and he laughed, “Tell me what do you want.”

“I want you to fuck off.”

“Really?”

She bit her lips, not wanting to answer his question. In truth, she wanted nothing but for him to fuck her like it was their last day on earth.

“You still want me to fuck off when I do-” he inserted a finger inside her and she grunted, “This?”

“Y-yeah,” she answered, biting her lips.

“Are you sure? Even when I do-” he inserted another finger, “This?”

“F-fuck, yeah,” she gripped the sheets, feeling the familiar feeing knotting in her stomach again for the third time.

“Really?” He sighed, and took his fingers out, pretending to wipe them on his shirt. “Guess I’ll go. Respect the lady, you know?”

“Fuck you,” she said, and Rafe chuckled when she took ahold of his fingers and inserting them into her by herself, arching herself at the feeing she’ve been craving since forever.

Rafe bit his lips, watching her guiding his fingers and he wished he had his phone with him so that he could record this moment and watch them over and over again.

“Close, baby?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, thrusting against his fingers. Rafe sucked in a breath, hearing her moans, and before he knew it she released himself against his fingers, screaming his name as she reached her high.

He laid himself beside her, staring at the ceiling as they tried to catch their breaths again. (Y/N) turned to look at him, and when he noticed she was looking at him he turned his head to her in the same way, so they were both staring at each other.

“You’re still an asshole.”

“I know.”

“And I hate you.”

“I know,” he smiled, and god, (Y/N) never had a stronger will to slap that stupid smile from his face.

“You love me though,” he suddenly said, and (Y/N) turned to look at him again.

“God, you’re full of yourself.”

“You just don’t want to accept the truth, (Y/L/N).”

“Whatever,” she got up, searching for her discarded panties and fixing her fallen top and skirt. She ran her fingers through her hair to disentangle them before making her way towards the door, only stopping to look at him before she could return to the booming music.

“See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on.

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon.

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!”

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous.

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub!

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself.

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him.

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed.

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen.

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N.

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny.

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl.

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks.

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body.

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

-- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her.

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips.

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing request #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic rec #harry styles prompt #harry styles x influencer y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles drabble

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endless-summer-soldier · 2 years

Text

what's my age again? (iv)

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: when you learn that Bucky knows nothing about music, you start introducing him to some of your favorite bands. as your hang outs become more and more frequent, you start to catch feelings for the super soldier.

warnings: alcohol, references to a family death, implied sex

word count: 1.9k

series playlist

series masterlist

taglist: @sebsgirl71479

“Hey, what time do you get done?” Bucky asked as he entered your work station. You looked down at your watch and peered back up at him.

“In about fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect, I’ll come by then.”

“Oh do we have plans now?” you inquired.

“We do.”

“And what might that entail?”

He shrugged, “I feel like taking a drive and could use some company.”

“Sounds like fun,” you smiled at him. He nodded at you and left, promising to come back when your shift was over. The end of your work day seemed to drag on endlessly. But it finally came to a close and you saw those beautiful blue eyes peer at you from across the room.

“Ready?” he asked you and you responded with a nod and a smile as you collected your things.

“So, you just feel like a drive?” you asked him.

“Yeah, I’ve been a little pent up lately and I need to get out.”

“And you just invited me because you wanna hear my driving playlist, right?”

He let out a laugh and said, “You caught me.”

“Lucky for you I have just the band for driving around aimlessly.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, driving around without a destination reminds me of high school and there is only one band that embodies teenage nostalgia.”

“And that is?”

“Blink-182.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Shocking,” you joked. Bucky walked you towards a black Jeep that he unlocked and threw his stuff in the back. “Honestly, I didn’t even know you had a car.”

“Yeah, I usually take the bike mainly because it's easier to park in the city. But there’s something about driving that’s relaxing.”

“I’d agree with that.”

“So tell me more about this Blink-182.”

“They are essentially responsible for the rise in popularity of the pop-punk genre. It’s a lot more fast paced, upbeat, and a little bit edgier compared to everything else I’ve introduced you to so be prepared for that. Actually, it’s completely different from everything else that we’ve listened to.”

“Alright, lay it on me.” You expertly connected your phone to his audio system and scrolled through the songs, looking for the perfect introduction to the band.

“I’m gonna do something rare and play you my favorite first. Mainly just because I’m in the mood to listen to it.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

“But first, windows down for the full experience.” Bucky rolled down the windows and you took that as your cue to start the song. You clicked on the track, Don’t Leave Me, and smiled as the familiar guitar intro started. It only took moments for you to start headbanging and singing along. You hadn’t even left the parking space yet and Bucky looked over at you with a shocked look on your face.

“Who are you and what have you done with Y/F/N Y/L/N?” he asked.

“What? This reminds me of my youth and my teenage angst.”

“I have never seen this side of you before.”

“Not many people have so you should feel honored. Now can you drive, I want to feel the wind passing me by to get the full effect.” Bucky pulled out of the parking spot and hit the open road as you continued to jam.

“You know, this would be a lot more fun if you were singing along with me,” you said as What’s My Age Again? started playing.

“I’m sure it would.”

“And this song is perfect for you,” you said, lightly punching Bucky on the shoulder before singing along with the chorus.

“Ha. Very funny,” he said. Although his tone was unamused, he couldn’t hide the smile on his face at seeing you so loose around him. “I could say the same about you.”

“I told you that Blink brings me back to my high school days! I can’t help it!”

“It is nice to see you loosen up a little. You’ve been so tense recently,” he said.

“Well yeah I have a very stressful job,” you retorted. “Now the real question is, how do I get you to loosen up?”

“That is a secret I will not be sharing with you.”

“What if I play some swing music from the 40s. I bet that’ll do the trick,” you joked.

He chuckled and shook his head, “Only one way to find out…”

“See if we weren’t listening to one of my favorite bands, I would test that theory out right now.”

You went back to jamming out and singing to yourself as Bucky continued to navigate the busy New York City streets.

“What were you like in high school?” you asked.

Bucky scoffed, “That’s probably a better question for Steve.”

“Well Steve’s not here, is he?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “To be honest, in high school I thought I was the shit. I slacked off in class and charmed the teachers into passing me. I could get any girl I wanted. I thought the world revolved around me. The military changed that very quickly.”

“That fits,” you agreed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“I mean you’re a good looking guy, I get it.” He looked away from you as a slight blush colored his cheeks.

“My world was so small back then. Seems like a lifetime ago.”

“Well yeah, it was a lifetime ago.”

“And what about you?” he offered.

“Oh, my high school experience is not very interesting.”

“I still would like to hear about it.”

You sighed, “I was a bit of a bookworm. I focused on school and getting into a good college. I had a small group of friends that I still keep in touch with but I pretty much kept to myself. I was never invited to the fun parties, I didn’t get drunk at prom, I just focused on getting through it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he said.

“Yeah I don’t know that I would’ve really fit in with your crowd.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he said.

You glared at him, “Bucky, you were a popular kid. I was a nerd. High school hasn’t changed that much since the 30s.”

“I would’ve noticed you,” he replied seriously.

You studied him, unsure of what to say. The song changed to First Date, which helped you come up with a response.

“Tell me about your first date.”

“My first date ever?”

“Yes.”

“Um well I guess it would’ve been the summer carnival.”

“What was her name?”

“Betty. I was probably 14 and I went with all my friends, she went with hers. Our friends forced us into the ferris wheel together. We started holding hands and then we stopped at the top of the ferris wheel and I kissed her.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Tell me about your first date,” he countered.

“Oh, it is nowhere near as cute as your story. I was 15. His name was Tyler. We went to see a scary movie, and I don’t like scary movies so the fact that I agreed to that is insane. We sat in the back row of the theater. About halfway through the movie he tried to put his arm around me, but it was such an awkward position for both of us that it didn’t last very long. And then when the movie ended we left and he hugged me goodbye. And he went in for a kiss, but I didn’t realize it so I gave him the cheek accidentally. And then I waited for my mom to pick me up. There was not a second date,” you added, laughing.

“I don’t know, sounds like a pretty good date to me.”

At first you thought he was being sarcastic, but he seemed pretty serious. “Yeah, okay,” you joked.

“I mean you were there, so that alone makes it a good date.” Now it was your turn to blush. Was the super soldier flirting with you? Before you could respond, he added, “The movies are a great first date though. I used to be at the drive-in every weekend.”

“I wish we had drive-ins.”

“You’ve never been?”

“Nope, they don’t really exist anymore.”

“Sure they do, you just have to get creative.”

“How so?” you questioned.

“You’ll see,” he smirked. Bucky looped the Jeep around the block and started heading back toward the compound. He had a twinkle in his eye and you knew he was up to something. When you reached the compound, Bucky didn’t pull into the parking garage, opting to go off road and drive the car onto the grass and around the building.

“What are you doing?” you asked with a light laugh in your voice.

“Just relax, I do this all the time.”

“Really?”

“Well I’ve done it once before.” He drove until he reached the outdoor training grounds and he backed the jeep up so that it was facing one of the sides of the compound. He put the car in park and said, stay here for a minute. He ran inside with a sense of urgency and a few minutes later he came out with his arms full. He had pillows and blankets along with a variety of snacks. He opened the back of the jeep and you said, “Need some help?”

“Sure,” he said. You climbed out of the jeep and walked around the back to help him. He was laying out a quilt and propped the pillows up against the back seat.

“Climb in,” he said once everything was finished. You propped yourself up into the trunk and slid back.

“Hey Friday? Set up movie projection,” he called to the AI. Within moments there was a big screen projection set up on the wall in front of them.

“What should we watch?” he asked you.

“Hmm….Friday, play The Princess Bride.”

“I haven’t seen that one,” he commented.

“Why does that not surprise me,” you smiled.

You sat beside Bucky and pulled the plaid blanket he always kept in the back of the car up towards your chest. You both watched in silence, other than the occasional chuckle. Your eyes were focused on the movie, but you noticed Bucky glancing over at you every now and then. Before you realized it your head was resting on Bucky’s shoulder ever so slightly. You noticed his breathing quicken and his enhanced arm carefully made its way around your back and onto your hip bone, gently rubbing circles into the denim of your jeans. You were hyper aware of your own breath as it came in and out, struggling to focus on the film when Bucky’s touch was making your heart skip a beat. Sitting like this seemed so natural, yet so foreign at the same time. It was impossible to ignore his heavenly scent: bergamot with a hint of citrus. It activated the butterflies in your stomach. You had to focus on your breathing. One breath in, one breath out. Don’t think about how good he smells. Don’t think about his gentle touch on your torso. Don’t think about all the things you want to do to him. Just breathe.

You wondered if Bucky knew what kind of effect he was having on you. With his enhanced senses, you were sure that he could hear your heart beating and your deep breathing. But if he noticed, he didn’t say anything which you were grateful for. You peered up at him and his eyes were glued to the screen and he had a slight smile plastered on his face.You must’ve looked a little too long because his face dropped to meet yours.

“You watching me?” he joked.

“Just checking to see if you’re enjoying the movie.”

His smile grew even bigger, “Of course I’m enjoying it. You’re here with me.”

#bucky banres x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot

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tootiredmotel · 3 years

Text

Electricity

Inspired by @ledzeppelinmixtape 's emoji prompt: ⛈

Read on ao3 or below / 2.3k words

It's 11pm and storming biblically when Dean and Cas's apartment goes dark.

"Great," Dean mutters under his breath. "Fan-freaking-tastic."

From somewhere else in the apartment, his roommate asks "did the power go out?"

"What do you think, sunshine?" Dean replies sarcastically.

He has a half-written essay in front of him, but he knows his old-ass computer won't last long unplugged, so he saves the document before shutting it off. He leans back in his chair, stretching for the first time in an hour and running a hand down his face. He actually needed a break from the screen, he realizes, feeling his eyes relax as he rubs them.

The steady rain and strong winds outside make an overwhelming white noise track, interrupted only by thunder that goes from faint and distant to deafening in volume. If Dean wasn't stressed out of his mind and completely exhausted right now, he might actually find this kind of nice.

"It's raining cats and mice out there," he hears Cas say, his voice now in the room.

Dean smiles, still rubbing his eyes with the backs of both his hands. "Cats and dogs, Cas."

"Right. Cats and dogs."

It’s really no use correcting him; the entire animal kingdom could be falling from the sky right now and there wouldn't be much of a difference. The winds are definitely knocking things over, and the streets will certainly be flooded come morning. Dean wonders for how long the university will cancel classes after this (if at all, the heartless bloodsuckers).

A particularly loud clap of thunder startles Dean. He drops his hands from his face and opens his eyes, expecting to see pitch black nothingness, but the room is faintly lit by the flashlight Cas is holding as he rummages through their kitchen drawers. He approaches a minute later and sets a candle down on the small table.

"Smart."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas says, sitting down opposite him. Dean smiles again, this time shaking his head.

If anyone ever asked him to mention one thing he likes about Cas, just one, he'd probably say how genuine Cas is, how he takes everything to heart and speaks from it as well. Dean said just one word, smart, a simple comment on the fact that it occurred to Cas to light a candle instead of wasting the battery of their one flashlight, and Cas genuinely thanked him for the compliment. He's just ridiculously cute in his earnestness.

Cas is trying to light the candle now, but their lighter is tricky. Despite living together in that apartment for a year and a half now Cas has never really gotten the hang of it.

"Here, let me."

Dean means to take the lighter from Cas and do it himself, he really does. That is 100% his intention as he reaches across the table. Except he sees an opportunity, and Dean Michael Winchester is nothing if not smooth.

He wraps his hand around Cas's, gently guiding his fingers until they’re placed just right, and the lighter clicks on with ease. Cas meets his eyes, smiling, and Dean can feel the slightest brush of Cas’s thumb against his hand. It’s a small gesture, but clearly deliberate, and it sends Dean’s heart into overdrive. Cas leans away, puts the lighter aside, and starts leafing through a book he brought. Dean’s heart is still racing as he watches him.

Scratch that first thing. If anyone ever asked him what’s one thing he likes about Cas? His hands. God. Neat nails, slightly calloused palms, and overall larger hands than you’d expect. Cas is an environmental science major and he wants to get a Ph.D. in botany, so of course, there’s a small garden on their fire escape. He tends to those plants every day with more gentleness and care than Dean has ever seen, and Dean loves to watch him, even though he has no idea what Cas is doing with them half the time. He just knows that not a single one of their plants have died under Cas’s care. He names them too.

His attentiveness. That’s another thing Dean might say if anyone ever asked. Cas left to visit his sister Anna last winter break. He left Dean in charge of the plants, three of which died inside the week. (For Dean’s birthday a couple of months later, Cas got him a book. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean keeps it on his nightstand.) Dean went out and bought new ones, but he knew Cas would notice the difference, and he did. He wasn’t mad at Dean though, and he appreciated the effort, and as Dean apologized profusely over and over again, Cas looked at him in the eyes oh-so-softly and told him he was forgiven.

How could Dean possibly forget? If anyone ever asked, he’d say that Cas’s eyes are one of his favorite things about him. One of his favorite things, period. Dean is absolutely mesmerized whenever Cas looks him in the eye, and the guy loves making eye contact, which means that Dean lives in a perpetual smitten daze. He has never seen that shade of blue anywhere else on this earth. Or maybe he just hasn’t been looking, content to get his fill of that blue by staring into Cas’s eyes as much as he gets to on a daily basis.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean blinks himself back to reality. “Hm?”

“You seem… spaced.”

Dean is staring. He’s been staring this whole time. Shit. Crap.

“Yeah, um. Just tired.”

Mr. Smooth, everybody.

“Maybe you should go get some rest. I doubt the power will be back anytime soon.”

Castiel Milton, always looking out for you. It makes Dean melt.

“Yeah, maybe.” I wanna stay here with you, though, he thinks. Instead, because he’s pathetic, he asks “what’re you reading?”

Cas shows him the cover. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean breaks out in laughter.

“So you’re going into my room and stealing my shit now?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your Vonneguts.” Cas puts the book aside, an easy smile on his face. “Just wanted something light to pass the time.”

“You done with your homework?”

A soft yawn escapes Cas. “For now.”

“Dude, why not just go to sleep? You look exhausted.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Dean tries to deadpan him. He fails, because around Cas, it’s near impossible for him to not smile.

“Besides, I might be done but you weren’t.”

“And you wanted to keep me company.”

Cas shrugs as if to say I guess, but he does it with a knowing smile. The smile doesn’t falter as he meets Dean’s eyes, and he doesn’t look away when silence settles between them, the only sound being the stormy white noise.

Dean is sure he could drown in that blue and die happy.

Before that train of thought gets away from him again, Dean tears his gaze away and stretches. “We should really go to bed though, I’m not getting any more done tonight,” he says as he stands.

“Of course,” Cas says, but he grabs the book again.

“You not going?”

“I want to finish this chapter.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Dean smile. Again.

“Well, g’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

Dean thinks he detects a bit of shakiness in Cas’s voice but decides that he’s probably just tired.

He gets to his room and changes into something comfortable, the first t-shirt and sweatpants he finds as he rummages in the dark. He goes to set his phone on his nightstand and crawl into bed, but in place of the book he keeps there and puts his phone on top of– the book Cas has at the moment– he finds something else.

It’s paper. It’s folded into the form of a book, like one of those youtube craft tutorials with bad music, and it's no bigger than his own palm. The cover is handwritten, and Dean immediately recognizes it as Cas's. He smiles, expecting a prank or joke of some sort, Cas knows how stressed Dean can get with the start of the semester. However, his smile falters as he reads the cover:

How to tell your best friend you’re in love with him.

With a shaky hand, Dean opens the small book. The first page is the only one with any more writing on it, and it reads:

You leave him a note and hope it’s enough.

Dean is storming out of his bedroom (no pun intended) before he knows it. He barely even feels his feet moving, too focused on the pounding in his ears and the dryness in his mouth. He doesn’t go into the living room, not yet; his feet stop at the end of the short hallway and he braces himself against the wall. The room is spinning and he can barely breathe.

“Cas?” He chokes out.

Cas puts the book back down on the table in front of him and interlocks his fingers in front of him. He doesn’t look at Dean– Cas, who makes too much eye contact – and takes a deep breath before saying “yes?”

He’s nervous.

Dean takes a step forward, still keeping one hand on the wall just in case, and holds up the note. “What is this?” he asks, because his brain is just not there with him yet.

Cas stands, still not facing Dean. “Dean, do you know what day it is?”

He’s asking this now???

“September firs–”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Cas isn’t today the–”

“The night we met. Two years ago.”

Dean feels his brain catching up now as the memory starts coming back to him. Cas helps, starting to recount that night.

“Two years ago tonight, I was leaving my night course at the university, and it was raining. Not as bad as this,” –Cas looks out the window and lightning strikes, as if on cue– “but pretty badly, and I was an inexperienced freshman without an umbrella.”

Dean remembers. He was walking Charlie to her dorm when it started drizzling, and it was pouring by the time he made it back to his car. Dean had a night shift at the gas station and was about to head there.

“Two years ago tonight,” Cas continues, “you invited me into your car to shelter me from the rain.”

Dean saw this guy running in the direction of the men’s dorms, which were on the other side of campus. He felt bad, and he had a car, so he opened the passenger door and let him in.

Turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he’d ever laid eyes on. He was a bit awkward, but he had no filter, which made him weirdly funny. He asked about the music playing in the car and listened intently to Dean's rambling. He laughed at his jokes too.

At the end of the five-minute drive, he said his name was Castiel, and Dean asked for his number and saved it as Cas with a thunderstorm emoji. Because even if he didn’t know it yet, Dean was already whipped.

“Two years ago,” Cas says, finally looking up at Dean. His eyes are wide and vulnerable and he looks terrified and Dean can barely stand it. “Two years ago tonight, I started to fall in love with you.”

Dean can’t breathe. His ears are hot and he can’t stop fidgeting with the note in his hand and he can’t breathe.

But his feet start moving again, out of their own volition. They move toward Cas.

“If you don’t feel–” Cas starts, but Dean swallows his words.

Again, Dean’s brain isn’t all there yet, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s already in it. He’s grabbing Cas’s face, digging his fingertips into the back of his hair, and the note is forgotten on the table, and thunder rumbles not that far away. He’s darting out his tongue, begging to explore Cas’s mouth as he’s wanted to do since forever, and Cas lets him. He tastes like toothpaste and coffee and honey and Dean never wants to taste anyone else ever again.

Cas is wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and pressing his entire body against him. It’s making Dean weak in the knees but it’s okay because Cas is almost holding him upright at this point. There’s another clap of thunder, much closer this time, and the lightning probably illuminated the apartment, but it wasn’t enough to make them part. They’re moving and grasping and exploring frantically, and Dean is afraid Cas is going to disappear, or that he’s going to wake up and this will all have been another dream. But no, it’s real, and they’re playing catchup on two years worth of desire and longing and love.

They eventually pull away, breathless and giddy. The only sounds are the rain and the wind. Dean opens his eyes first, needing to see Cas and make sure this is completely, definitely, unequivocally real. Cas is smiling and taking deep breaths, and a weight seems to be lifted off his shoulders. He opens his eyes a second later, and even in the darkness, even with just the faint candlelight, the blue in them seems to shine. And even though there's no power, it feels as if there's electricity crackling in the air around them. It might be the storm.

No. It's the moment. This moment with Cas is what feels electric.

“Come to bed?” Dean asks, feeling brave and going out on a limb. The only way Cas responds is by interlocking his hand into Dean’s and kissing him again.

And after tonight, for the rest of his life, if anyone ever asks him “what’s one thing you love about Cas?” Dean won’t be able to narrow down an answer.

He’ll just say: “Everything.”

#gen.fics #spncreatorsdaily #creativecaviar #userjennmish #userdorksinlove #userstarry #tuserari #plantdadcas #offbeattraxx #slipper007 #thisisapaige #lyntracks #deancas #destiel #college au #fic #spn #gen creates

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katyasrussianaccent · 3 years

Text

you’re so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You’re a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Authors note: Part 3 whoop! I havent written fic in 3 years so Im hoping this is okay. Its about 4000 words, super long, sorry. I also dont play Among Us, but hopefully its not too obvious. Lemme know what you think!

You're nervous, though you aren’t quite sure why. The kind of nervousness that spreads to your feet, causing you to tap your toes against the side of your sofa.

Call you in 15.

You look at the message again, staring at it till the screen goes blurry. Rubbing your eyes you exhale into the emptiness of your apartment; a feeble attempt at calming yourself down.

Logically it’s stupid to be nervous over a phone call. Logically you know that in the grand scheme of the universe, there are bigger things at hand. But you’re not a logical person, never have been. You’re all heart and emotion, both a blessing and a curse. There’s something intimate about a phone call, to have nothing but someone’s voice on the other end of the phone, talking to you and only you. It was a little scary; to think your purely online friendship with Corpse was going to be taken to a different level. You’re excited to think what that could mean.

“Fucking get it together,” you mutter to no-one as you exhale again, because there’s nothing else to do other than to wait and try to breath. There’s this frantic energy about you; like when you eat fizzy sweets, the flavour buzzing on your tongue. Your ancestors used to hunt wolves and here you were nervous over a single phone call.

The silence in your apartment’s too much now; too noisy. You grab your TV remote, clicking onto Spotify to find something. You’re scrolling so much, none of the artists feeling quite right for the moment before settling on Sufjan Stevens.

The dulcet tones fill the space, and for a brief second, you feel fine. You’re feeling relaxed and then your phone lights up.

Incoming Facetime Audio

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck” you say. Your face feels warm, your heart quickens in your chest. You could just ignore it, say you’re not feeling too good and that would be that, you wouldn’t have to do this. But it’s Corpse, you like Corpse and you’re kind of friends.

You swipe to accept the call, and press the button for speaker.

“Hey,” you say, cringing at the meek tone your voice has taken on.

“Hey,” Corpse’s deep voice rumbles through your tiny speaker, distorting slightly and you press the volume button to turn it down a little.

There’s a beat of silence, a beat too long, and you already hate how awkward this is. You’re not great at social stuff, the concept of being a social butterfly is almost foreign to you. And it’s not because you dislike people, it’s just you hate this; the small talk, the awkwardness before you get comfortable and can hold an actual conversation.

You suddenly remember a tip from your customer service days. “How are you?” you ask, plastering on a grin so wide that it must look borderline demented. Thank god you’re single.

“I’m okay thanks, how are you?” he asks.

You lounge back against the soft cushions of the sofa, lifting the phone up to your mouth as you do so. “I’m good, excited to be taught by the Among Us master.”

He snorts in disdain. “Hardly a master.”

You chew your lip before you speak again, “I dunno, people on the internet think you’re pretty good.”

He snorts again, and you smile at the sound. It’s not something you’ve heard from him before, through your hours of watching his streams, you’ve become accustomed to his voice and the noises he makes. But this one seems to be new. And maybe it’s the weird, selfish part of you that likes to think he’s only ever made that sound for you. You shake the thought out of your head, because really? Getting happy over a snort is really such a ridiculous thing to do.

“People on the internet say a lot of things.”

“True, but sometimes they speak the truth,” you reply, moving to get more comfortable; tucking your feet under your thighs. You wonder what he’s doing right now as he talks to you, is he sitting down? Or is he lying on his bed; his head propped up with pillows? There’s a brief flash of yearning, of wanting to be there in the same room as him, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared so you ignore it.

“Hm. We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Okay, you’re the boss Mr Husband.”

He chuckles softly, and again, you smile. You can feel yourself getting annoyed with yourself; you’re acting like a child with a crush; smiling at the phone. All you needed now was a notebook that had Mrs YN Husband written all over it.

“You know if you keep calling me that, we’re gonna have to get married,” he says, his voice a little lower than it was before. You blink and cock your head to the side, looking at an imaginary camera like you’re in The Office. Did you say that out loud? Is he...flirting with you? Sure, you’re flirty over Twitter, but it’s Twitter, Twitter isn’t real. There’s a fluttery feeling in your stomach at the mere prospect that he might actually be flirting with you.

“I’d be the best wife you could ever get,” you shoot back. There’s a brief second of silence before he answers, and you can hear shuffling on the other end. You want to ask what he’s doing, but you know it would break the conversation, and you’re curious to see where this goes.

“Oh really? And why’s that?” he asks, and you can picture the smirk in his voice. You have no idea what he looks like, no real care about it either, but you bet he’s got a beautiful smile. You bite your tongue before it tells him this, for once your brain actually works and stops you from making a fool out of yourself. It’s incredibly strange, how quickly he puts you at ease without a try, he’s just so naturally comforting. He’s not this flashy persona, he’s just a guy who likes to play video games and happens to be kinda good at them. And also has a voice that is literally like chocolate. Not just chocolate; dark chocolate. If dark chocolate could talk, it would sound like Corpse.

“Cos your girl can cook,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest a little. And that’s not a lie, you can cook. Okay, you’re not a Michelin starred chef, but you feel quite confident in the fact that Gordon Ramsey could eat your food, and probably (hopefully) wouldn’t scream that it was “fucking raw”.

“And what would you cook for me?” he asks.

You hum in thought for a second. “You’ll have to marry me first to find that out.”

He laughs, a proper laugh that settles in your stomach, spreading warmth through your chest. “I’ll think about it. I can hear music, what are you listening to?”

You straighten up a little, the question catching you off guard. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at the song that’s playing. It’s not his type of music, you’re almost positive about that. You almost don’t want to tell him out of embarrassment. You’re not sure why you feel embarrassed; you know Corpse isn’t an asshole, he wouldn’t make fun of you. But music is so personal to you, so personal, it’s like baring a piece of your soul; which sounds so fucking cliche, but it’s true.

“Uhhh...It’s called Make out in My Car by Sufjan Stevens,” you reply.

He hums in affirmation. “It sounds nice; from what I can hear.”

“I can turn it up?” you ask, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You could always sing some for me,” he offers.

You laugh a little, scrunching up your nose. “And why would I do that?”

“I thought you wanted to get married. You have to woo me,” he replies.

“Woo you?” you ask, your tone incredulous. This isn’t how you pictured the conversation going.

“Yeah. Woo me, yn.” he says, dragging out the “o” causing you to laugh again.

You sigh dramatically. “I haven’t warmed up or anything, it’s gonna sound so bad” you warn as you put the song to the beginning.

“I’m sure you sound great. Go ahead, woo me.”

You shake your head as you softly sing. “I'm not trying to go to bed with you, I just wanna make out in my car. And though I'm dying to fall in love with you, I just wanna make out in my car”. You stop and you’re suddenly very aware that you have essentially just serenaded him. Good going, brain.

It’s silent for a beat too long, and the smile that graced your lips starts to fade as the embarrassment starts to set in.

“Well now we definitely have to get married,” he affirms. And there’s that fluttery feeling again.

You swallow, moving the conversation swiftly onto Among Us. You grab your laptop that was next to you, humming in acknowledgement as he walks you through downloading it.

“So there’s a few of us joining us tonight, it should be really fun.”

“Oh. It’s not just us two?” you ask. You focus on the download, watching the number increase. You’re nervous at the prospect of playing with other people, strangers, for the first time.

“No, it’s a 4 player minimum. We’re going to stream as well.”

“Corpse…” you start. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails, a habit you do whenever you get really anxious. This was meant to just be a cute moment where you learnt how to play a game, not a big event where people would be actually watching you, judging your every move.

“We’re going to do a few games off stream with you, you don’t need to be there for the stream after if you don’t want to,” he interrupts.

“Okay,” you trail off, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip. You feel a little better, but not by much. You didn’t know who the other people were, what if they hated you? You ask this out loud.

“I’ll be there. You know Rae and Sykkuno. Felix, Sean and Toast will be there but they’re super nice, I promise.” His voice is sincere, and it soothes you. You don’t know him, not really know him, but you trust Corpse. You know he has his own struggles, and you believe his promise; he wouldn’t screw you over or put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with.

The rest of the call is him taking you through how to play and how to set up something called Proximity Chat so everyone can talk to each other in the game. He says it’s easier once you actually play, and it doesn’t sound particularly hard quite honestly, you just hope you don’t get imposter on the first try because you’re not the greatest liar.

The game screen pops up, and you type in the code that Corpse gives you. You say goodbye to Corpse, who tells you to text him if you need any help. You drop into the game lobby, and you look at the little astronaut. There’s no time to dwell as a cacophony of voices hits you.

“YN!” Rae screeches and you chuckle at her enthusiasm. You’ve known Rae for a few years now, you met at college and had become fast friends. Though you had many different interests - gaming for one, you considered her your best friend. Rae was the type of friend where you didn’t need to talk every single day, you could message her a week later and it would be like no time had passed at all. And you loved that, sometimes you just didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes your mood wasn’t the best, and you needed a little time to recharge. And she understood that, something that you were eternally grateful for.

“Raebies!” you screech back, using your “pet” name for her.

“I’ve been trying to get you to play forever. But Mr Smooth Operator over there slides into your DMs and suddenly you’re a gamer now?”

“It sounds so sordid when you say it like that,” you reply.

“Hi yn! Glad to see you playing with us,” Sykkuno says. You greet him and the others, making sure to say hi to everyone in the game. You didn’t want to start off by being accidentally rude. You listen as everyone talks amongst each other, and you talk when spoken to, but you aren’t interjecting. It wasn’t anything against the other players, it was just a little overwhelming, and you were figuring out what everyone was like.

“Hello,” Corpse’s voice interrupts your train of thought and you greet him along with everyone else.

“Aw, I wanted purple,” you say, frowning at Corpse’s name above the astronaut.

“We can switch,” he replies.

“No it’s o -” you start to speak before you realise he’s already switched to white. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You smile as you switch to purple, and you decide to add a flower for a little pizzazz.

“It’s your first game, I’ll kill you if I get imposter so it’ll even out,” he jokes and everyone laughs. The countdown begins and you puff your cheeks out, exhaling as it gets to 1. You’re nervous again, a seemingly common theme of the night. Your shoulders relax as the word CREWMATE flashes across the screen.

You watch as everyone but Corpse disperses from the cafeteria with haste, and you look at the keyboard to press the buttons to move.

“You ever see an old person text? That’s how I’m picturing you right now,” Corpse says as you walk together to Weapons.

“Shut up Sonny,” you reply in your best old woman voice, getting a laugh. You open up the task, shooting the Asteroids with ease. “Yay, I completed a task!”

“Good job,” Corpse replies, and you beam at the praise. You move down to o2, doing your task while Corpse does his.

“Wait, you could be imposter right? How would I know?” you ask as you walk together to Navigation.

“You wouldn’t, you just have to trust me,” he says, his voice full of charm.

You scowl. “Well that just makes me not want to trust you.”

Before he replies, there’s a blaring alarm. DEAD BODY REPORTED. You blink at the suddenness; you were really enjoying the relaxing pace of the game. You look at the screen; Felix has been killed.

“Who found the body?” Corpse asks.

“I did,” Rae answers. “I was in admin, and was going to lower engine and it was there in storage.”

“If you were in admin, why didn’t you go up through Cafeteria?” Toast asks.

“Because it’s quicker to go through storage,” Rae replies. They argue between themselves, and you listen intently and silently. It’s a lot of information, you can’t tell whose lying, but you guess that’s what makes a good player.

“Where were you yn?” Sean quizzes, and it takes you a second to realise you’re being spoken to.

“Oh. I was in um o2?”

“You don’t sound too sure there, pretty sus,” he says. Your face heats up a little, you’re not the imposter, but it feels like you are.

“She was in o2 and then we went to Navigation,” Corpse answers, and you breathe out as he takes on the interrogation.

“Oh you were together?” Rae asks, and you know that tone she’s got. It’s the tone that says she’ll be messaging you right away.

“Well yeah, it’s her first game, I’m not gonna leave her alone,” he says and you smile at that.

“Yeah we’ve been together the whole time,” you add and it’s left at that. No-one votes anyone out, since no-ones really too suspicious. You carry on the game, and you find yourself really enjoying it, though the questioning part is kind of stressful. You can see why Corpse likes it so much, it’s really fun. You’re in electrical, humming as you do your task when Rae comes next to you.

“Hey,” you greet her.

“I’m sorry, nothing personal,” she replies. Before you have a chance to say a word, she kills you and you look on in shock as your ghost floats above your body. You listen into the meeting as Rae continues to lie and plead her case. She’s good, but Corpse knows better.

“Wait, you said you found her in electrical and you were where?”

“I was in Upper Engine, and then I went to electrical to do my task,” Rae answers, her voice even and calm.

“I was in Lower Engine, and I didn’t see you,” Corpse says, and you grin at the fact Rae’s been found out. That’s what she gets for killing you.

“You were doing your task, I passed right by you,” Rae starts. She pleads her case, but it’s too late and she’s voted out.

“That was so much fun!” you declare. “I can see why you guys play it all the time.”

“Yes! We have converted another!” Felix shouts in victory.

“And all it took was Corpse,” Rae mutters sarcastically.

“Don’t get bitter Rachel, just get better,” you reply, causing the group to laugh.

You get the hang of it after a few games, and find yourself agreeing to stay while the others stream, though you decide against it yourself. You’ve only streamed once by yourself, and it was a very casual affair and you don’t want to feel too much pressure while you enjoy yourself. You know that Corpse gets nervous when he streams and he’s been doing it for so much longer, so you can only imagine how nervous you would be.

You tap your fingernails against the keyboard as the lobby counts down, any previous nerves have been replaced with excitement.

IMPOSTER flashes across. You’re the only one, your astronaut looks lonely on the screen by itself, and the red letters almost taunt you.

“Shit,” you mutter as your brain goes into overdrive. What was it Corpse had said before? Not to be too obvious. You don’t kill immediately, instead going at your previous pace to not look too suspicious. You were still fairly new to the game, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

You fake your task in Cafeteria before venting over to Navigation where Toast was.

“Hi Toast!” you greet, coming to stand next to him as you pretend you’re doing the task.

“Oh hey yn,” he says. It doesn’t seem like he suspects you, and you’re not quite sure when to click the Kill button. You do it anyway before running out and going down and into shields. There’s adrenaline running through you as the dead body’s reported and you crack your knuckles before putting on your game face. You were going to play dumb, play the confused newbie - because to them, that’s what you were.

“YN, where were you?” Corpse asks. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t going to get away with this.

You twiddle your hair as you draw out your words, playing the role perfectly. “Uhm I was in...shields? I think that’s what it’s called. I was in the cafeteria before that though.”

“Wait, you couldn’t have, I was in weapons. I would have seen you,” Sykkuno says.

You open your mouth to talk. “She could have vented,” Felix comments, and the rest of the group starts to agree.

“Guys, I don’t even know what venting is. I literally just started playing,” you point out, giggling.

“That’s true,” Rae agrees and you knew there was a reason you loved her.

“Bullshit! She’s playing you with her “oh I don’t know how to play” schtick,” Felix proclaims.

“Aw, that’s kind of rude, Felix. I’m just enjoying the game, doing the tasks,” you say, pouting a little. He’s the next on your list.

Everyone skips the vote and you lean over your laptop, ready for the next round. You were going to win this. You kill Rae and Toast next, and yet again, manage to worm your way out of any suspicion. You can sense that Corpse and Felix are starting to get suspicious of you, and you know you need to bring out the big guns to throw them off.

You catch Sykkuno in Med Bay after checking the cams in Security.

“Hi yn!” he greets, and you almost feel guilty as you kill him. He’s so sweet and innocent, but unfortunately, casualties are a given. You pass Felix as he comes out of reactor and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to talk your way out of this one again.

“I passed yn as I came out of reactor,” Felix shouts with a hint of glee.

You roll your eyes; this is going to be tough. “Yeah I came from Upper Engine, I was finishing part 2 of a task.”

“I was in Electrical, where was the body?” Corpse asks.

“Med Bay. And the only one that could’ve been there was yn,” Felix starts.

“Well no, you could have passed me and killed Sykkuno then self reported,” you reply. “I think you can do that right?”

Corpse hums in agreement. “Oh come on! She’s being really sus,” Felix argues.

“You are being a little sus yn,” Corpse comments.

“Corpse. You don’t really think it’s me do you?” You decide to lower your voice a little, your tone sweet but sultry. “You only taught me like an hour ago, there’s no way I’d be able to fool everybody so quickly.” You get close to the mic so it’s like you’re speaking only to Corpse. “Remember what I said? You’re a master at this.” You’re laying it on thick, and for a brief second you think you’ve been too over the top.

“This is difficult,” Corpse says, and you see the seconds count down, your heartbeat starts to quicken.

“Corpse, stop being a fucking simp and vote her out!” Felix demands.

“Corpsie baby,” you drawl out and you smile in success as you hear him sigh, almost shakily. You’ve got this in the bag. The victory screen flashes up and you cheer.

“Fuck yeah!” you shout, patting yourself on the back. You laugh as you exhale the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Good game yn!” Sykkuno comments, the others agreeing.

“Not fair, you used your womanly wiles against Corpse,” Felix says.

“Gotta use them for something. Not my fault Corpse knows where his allegiance lies,” you reply laughing a little.

You stretch, your back crying out in pain from being hunched over so long. You let out a long, loud moan of relief as you straighten your spine, your shoulders relaxing as you move from side to side.

“Your mic’s not muted” Corpse points out, clearing his throat. You feel your stomach drop and your face instantly becomes hot. Shit.

“Oh. Uh. I totally forgot about that,” you say, forcing out a chuckle. You screw your eyes shut, any happiness has been now replaced by red hot shame. “So this was fun, uh, really fun, but um, I’m gonna, I’m gonna go. So...yeah. Bye guys, have fun!”

You click to exit without giving anyone a chance to say a word, and drop your head into your hands.

“Can’t wait to see what they say on Twitter about this,” you mutter into your hands.

TAGLIST (if youre bold, it wont let me tag): @teenageguitarist @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @cookinglovingalien @vir-tual @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @little-red02

#my fic #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse husband #corpse husband/reader #corpse husband fic #corpse husband x yn #corpse x you #corpse husband x you #corpse x fem reader #corpse x reader #corpse fic #corpse smau #corpse imagine

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duskamethyst · 3 years

Text

heated.

a/n: first fic of 2021 and i just missed writing smut. i didn’t know how to end it lol but i feel like it’s something that we all can relate.

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut, nsfw, quirkless AU

warnings: degradation, orgasm denial, angry fucking, intoxication (voluntarily), car sex, bakugou being an annoying little shit

pairing: bakugou x f!reader

♪ music rec: f&mu by kehlani ♪

summary: you don’t know the reason why bakugou is mad at you and purposely avoid confrontations about it. it makes you pissed and annoyed so you decide to make him taste his own medicine.

“and where the fuck are you going?” your boyfriend glares at you from the couch as he scrutinizes the skimpy dress you have on while you nonchalantly walk from the room and reach for the front door. bakugou has been giving you an attitude these past couple of days and whenever you try to confront him about it, he just ignores you and walks out of the room.

you know something is bothering him when he starts to act up but you grow annoyed when he decides to not talk about it so you plan on doing the same and let him taste his own medicine until he comes clean about what has been going around in his mind. you’re not going to let him have his way all the time.

you already list out the things that could’ve displease him but he probably wants to keep you guessing. he really got on your last nerve so you’re not going to waste time putting up with his childish behavior when he can simply be straightforward about it.

rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him. “i’m going to the club with my friends.”

you miss the twitch on his eye when you turn back around and open the door, wanting to immediately leave the house without sparing a glance back to the angry male.

“i’m coming with you,” he says, making you stop in your tracks before turning to him in confusion. “you heard me, dumbass.”

you don’t know if you’re relieved that he still chooses to tag along with you, considering the fact that he has been trying to avoid you around the house but the thought about how tense the whole car ride would be dreads you more. without leaving you a second to reply anything back, bakugou walks to the room to change his clothes.

you could’ve just ignored him and left but that wouldn’t be the best idea since he’s not in such a great mood so you wait there until he walks past you and steps out from the house.

“the fuck you’re waiting for?” he glances back at you over his shoulder while walking towards his car.

yeah, maybe you should’ve just left him.

and you were absolutely right about the car ride being tense– it easily ruined your mood too. none of you said a word (if not for the fact that he was yelling madly to a lot of people on the road) to each other and you only kept staring blankly out the window. he usually liked to put his hand on your thigh as he drove but you already expected that, judging from your past experiences.

but your mood lifts up as soon as you see your friends again, completely ignoring and oblivious to bakugou’s presence as you swallow down drinks after drinks until you feel completely lightheaded and intoxicated.

bakugou only sits down by the bar as he watches you dance with your friends. aside from wanting to make sure to run up to you if you are to pass out (he tells himself that your friends can’t carry you) or need the toilet to puke, he also makes a mental note to watch if any guys dare to get closer to you. especially when he thinks that you look absolutely stunning tonight. but he also wonders why you have to pick that dress and initially decide to wear it without having him around. he knew he would have to tag along even when he didn’t really want to.

and there comes one hungry wolf.

bakugou observes as the man slowly creeps up behind you and carefully places a hand on your shoulder and immediately draws your attention to face the stranger. he leans closer to whisper in your ear while you try to listen through the blasting music and process through your clouded head. bakugou hates to admit that the man isn’t that bad looking but he knows that you’ll push him right away and not because he is in your presence– but because even if he’s not around to look after you, he believes that it’s something you would do, so he was never worried to let you go out with your friends.

and his eyes remain still at the two of you. for the most part, he only wants to witness the rejected look on the damned dude who even dared to lay his hand on you. the bastard should’ve realized that you’re way out of his league and maybe he would save some embarrassment for tonight.

seconds pass by in minutes and you still haven’t pushed the guy away. instead, you entertain him and the whispers go back to back between the two of you as if sharing some sort of secret that only you both know. it suddenly makes him feel like he’s the intruder gawking over another guy’s girlfriend.

from his fixed gaze, it’s almost as if bakugou hasn't blinked. he doesn’t miss the giggle and the smile on your lips as he wraps his arms around you before swaying your bodies together while your perfect ass brushes against his groin teasingly.

you should know better not to do that. you should know better that your boyfriend can easily knock the guy out, doesn’t matter if he’ll get kicked out for it. you should–

oh, you know alright. and you know well what you’re doing.

the moment you turn your linked bodies to face his way with a smirk tug on your lips and the guy burying his face on the crook of your neck– he realizes that you’re trying to push his buttons.

bakugou is fuming from his seat. though the look on his face sends shivers down your spine, you can’t deny that it also makes you feel hot and bothered. but bakugou is not one to easily back down from a challenge. it’s petty and a waste of his time but a small piece of him wants to see how far you can go and he’s daring you to.

it’s starting to make you feel annoyed when he still hasn't moved to pull you away so you try to step it up and provoke him further. with the guy’s hands around your body, you start to guide them down your hips and place them on your thighs, almost letting him touch and taste the sweet nectar in the middle, but not quite. your pussy is already aching for some relief but still, you’re not one to let a random stranger help you with it.

bakugou’s hands are balled into fists– so hard his knuckles are turning white as he glares at the hands that you easily let roam around your body. the same body that only he is allowed to touch and leave marks on but he still owns the thinning patience spared inside him and continues to watch what tricks you have up your sleeves for your next act before he blows up.

you think his persistence tonight is quite surprising. usually he’d already pull you close without a second thought when a guy even dares to glance your way for too long– but at the fact that one is currently having his hands all over you? you think it’s pretty impressive at how long he’s keeping up.

so you decide to amp up.

you turn around to face back the man around you and wrap your arm around his neck. the hands that are resting on your thighs shift on your hips again and you take the chance to roll your hips more erratically to bait him into moving his hands further down to your ass by his own will.

like a moth drawn to a flame, he does just that. he shamelessly places his hands on your ass and gives it a light squeeze before shifting lower to the hem of your mini dress and deliberately grazing his fingers against the skin on your butt cheeks.

“in three… two… one…”

the guy holding you is suddenly shoved further away as your body is pulled to another muscular build. you look up to see your angry boyfriend, his red irises matching the wrath in his eyes as he glowers at the startled man.

“fuck off.” bakugou snarls and pulls you away with him before the guy can reply anything back to him. bakugou won’t be able to hold himself from beating the fuck out of him if he spares even a millisecond longer in there.

you feel sorry for using the guy, but it has been fun. bakugou’s reaction is definitely what you’ve been yearning for and your efforts have been deemed to be fruitful. that’ll show him what he gets for giving you the cold shoulder.

“katsuki, you’re walking too fast!” you complain, clicking your heels to match his pace as he has his grip on your wrist. bakugou opens the back seat of his car and forcefully pushes you in and makes you stumble on your back before getting in himself and closing the door shut.

bakugou drags you closer to him by grabbing your thighs and you blink up innocently to him when he looms above your figure in the confined space of his back seat.

“‘suki?” you feign innocence even as your thighs are already pressing together from staring back into his intense and fiery eyes.

“don’t give me that.” he snorts. “acting like you didn’t know what you did.”

“did what?” you reply coyly, jutting your bottom lip into a pout.

“oh, you don’t know?” bakugou presses your cheeks together with his hand. “open your mouth.”

he eases his grip on your face and spits in your mouth as soon as you oblige, “that’s what sluts get. swallow it.”

to spite him, you do as you’re told with no hesitation and swat his hand away, “you deserved it, asshole.”

a look of amusement quickly washes across his face, “i think you should be put in your fucking place.”

“yeah? make me.” you challenge.

“brat.” he smirks before his hand reaches under your dress to rip off your panties. you look at him in disbelief as he brings up the cloth to show how well he just shredded the pesky cloth off of you. “your favorite? oops.”

bakugou lifts up the hem of your dress to your waist and a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes as he sees how you’re already drenched. “i haven’t touched you yet and you’re already this wet?” he chuckles. “a fucking dirty slut, aren’t you?”

“then it’s probably because the guy was touching me earlier.” you say mindlessly and the cocky look on his face instantly falters, his eyebrows furrow as he remembers back the show you put on from minutes ago.

“then you won’t be needing me to touch you, right?” he sneers while his thumb teasingly ghosts over your aching clit. “won’t be needing my tongue to clean up this dirty cunt, yeah?”

a pang of regret washes over you. maybe you took it too far just to spite him or maybe he’s just good at turning the tables around. either way, you know he’s trying to get you to beg for it.

the silence from your side tells him everything he needs to know. bakugou can play this petty game too and he won’t let you win so easily. “are you going to beg for it, brat?”

the relief you’ve been wanting is right in front of you yet bakugou wants to be an ass about it.

“no? you can go back to that fucking sleaze to help you out with it.” he jeers.

“if i wanted to, i would’ve done it already.” you whine, bucking your hips closer to his hand but he slaps your thigh instead.

“really? what do you actually want then?” he squeezes the supple flesh of your thigh and watches you squirm underneath him.

you look anywhere except his menacing gaze, “want you, ‘suki.”

bakugou slaps your thigh again, “look at me and say it.”

you nibble your lower lip and offer him your puppy eyes as you look up at him. “want you ‘suki, please. need you.”

“do you think you deserve it?” he snickers. this time, he’s generous enough to press your neglected clit but that alone easily sends sparks down to your core. “do you think you’ve been a good girl for me?”

“n-no.” you whine as you wriggle your hips needily for a tiny bit of alleviation.

“and do bad girls– no, dirty whores get to cum?”

“‘suki, please– i’m sorry.”

“good,” you look at him in anticipation as he tugs down his pants and briefs but he sits down in front of you instead and strokes his cock with his hand. “go ahead and show me you’re really sorry.”

looking at him dejectedly, you still get up on your knees to take his cock in your mouth. you want to start off with kitten licks on the tip but his hand is quick to grip the back of your head and forces your head down to take all of his cock until it hits your throat.

you choke and try to muffle something out but his hand leads you up and down his shaft as your tongue slobbers all around at every inch.

“fuuuck– what’s that?” he chuckles as he watches you struggle to take his fat cock all the way in that your eyes begin to get glassy. “whores don’t get to talk.”

bakugou’s head falls back as his hand continues to guide you down his length. his lips part to allow his soft groans to escape, eyes heavy as he focuses on your puffy lips wrapped prettily around his cock.

he holds your head still as he bucks his hips upwards and the tip instantly hits your throat again. you try to take control again, working your gag reflex and running your tongue up and down his cock and give special attention on the tip.

“fuck yeah. just like that.” bakugou growls.

glancing up to the male, you can clearly see how much bakugou is enjoying this– his eyes closed shut, chest heaving as breathy moans slip from his mouth. an idea strikes you and you start to think back how you even end up here. why do you bother giving him what he wants? weren’t you trying to make him learn his lesson? the look of pure bliss on his face only serves to be a provocation for you to proceed with your devious plan. what’s the worst that could happen?

so as your saliva slobbers all over his thick cock, wet and erotic that the squelching noises are able to drown his own grunts, his hips jerking as he reaches closer for his high– you bite the tip of his cock.

bakugou’s eyes shoot wide open as he yelps and pushes you away from him. a string of curses rips from his throat as he takes a few moments to regain himself but when he sees the smug look on your face, it only acts as a fuel to the blaze that was already starting to douse inside him– and you’re definitely going to pay for it.

“you fucking brat.”

he grabs a fistful of your hair and forces you down on your back again and lifts up your legs up to your chest. he slaps your clit before he sticks his tongue out and starts to lick a fat strip of your wet slits as you writhe in pleasure. your eyes immediately close and your nails dig the leather seat of his car.

“look at me when i’m eating this fucking pussy.” he spreads the slit open with his fingers and teases your clit with the tip of his tongue.

you shamefully turn your head to his direction, his irises ablaze with the usual perseverance to make you cum on his face while his mouth is attached to your cunt and his hands grip your thighs firmly to hold your legs up and spread. lewd squelching sounds echoes in the car and your breathing starts to hitch as you feel the coil inside your guts twists and turns tightly.

your legs start to tremble when he uses his finger to flick the aching bud and his wet muscle delves into your sopping hole. bakugou is nose deep inside your cunt, diligently laps off your essence like a man having his last meal.

“mmh– ‘suki– so good! gonna cum–” you cry as your hand grabs a lock of his hair to grind his face closer to your pussy. his mouth latches onto your clit, groaning a repetition of ‘mmph’s against the sensitive bud at how your tight hole is practically sucking his finger in with each of his thrust.

“yeah? gonna make a mess on my face, baby?” from the firm grip on his hair, bakugou realizes that you’re close. his eyes gaze upon your face– forehead glistening with sweat, chants of mewls and moans escaping from your gaping mouth that a bit of drool is already trickling from the corner and eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy.

“yesyesyes– fuck!” you pant, toes curling in your shoes when the tight coil inside you is threatening to snap at any moment. “‘m gonna cum!”

and as you are about one step closer to your release, bakugou abruptly pulls away.

“you never learn your lesson, don’t you?” even through the dim lights of the parking lot, you can visibly see your juices glisten on his chin and the tip of his nose. “sluts don’t get to cum.”

your eyebrows furrow as you only silently watch him lean back on his seat and wipes his lips with his sleeve.

“i’m giving you a chance to start over,” he taps his thigh twice while the other hand pumps his hard cock, the tip flushing with a bead of precum. “show me you deserve to cum.”

you get up almost instantly before bakugou shifts in the middle to make space for you to prop on your knees in between his thighs. he guides you by the hips with his free hand, explicitly displaying his control over you at the moment before allowing you to impale yourself on his dick.

“how much do you want it?” sets of hazy, passion-filled eyes stare up at you while he teases your swollen clit with the tip of his cock and smearing your juices with his pre.

“i- i want it so bad, ‘suki.” the clench of your hands on his broad shoulder tenses at the sensitivity. you can see sweat already formed on his head and neck from the lack of ventilation in the car.

“hmm… and?” a grin etched on his lips as he spanks the flesh of your ass, hard enough to make your body jolt and a yelp to escape from your mouth.

“a-and i need your cock to make me full.” you whine, rolling your hips a little as if to relieve the annoying itch that you’ve been dying to scratch but couldn’t.

“so needy,” he tsked, guiding his throbbing cock down and halting just under your hole agonizingly. “lucky for you, i like needy little sluts.”

bakugou leads you by the hips to pull you down and hisses when he finally impales inside you. without wasting time, you start to desperately bounce on his fat cock and his hands find their way to grab your ass.

“fucking perfect– hah– so tight.” he leans further on his seat and watches his dick appear and disappear perfectly inside your sopping cunt in trance.

the praise serves as encouragement inside your head and causes you to ride and grind harder, completely heedless over how the car looks from the outside; bumping up and down.

the temperature in the car starts to rise and so are your bodies. vapors are already tinting the windows from the results of your heavy pants and none of you even mind about how suffocating it feels breathing through the dense air.

your body leans towards your boyfriend’s as your lips’ collide to a sloppy kiss before a loud moan tears from your throat when his grip on your ass tightens and rams his cock inside you relentlessly.

“look at you,” bakugou grunts over your shoulder as he continues to pound while your body arches over how good and deep he is inside that you can feel the tip brushing your cervix over and over. “fucked like a whore.”

the degradation makes you feel hotter than it should and you can only whine in agreement. as your orgasm gradually builds up, you quickly sense your pussy clenching tighter around his cock and feel every vein that brushes against your wall.

“mmmhh– so good!” you sob as your mind turns hazy, body trembling again once the same coil begins to twist and turn tightly and begging to break.

“wanna cum on this fat cock, don’t you?” he growls against your skin and smacks your ass before picking up the pace and fucks you harder. “let me hear you.”

“i– cum– please!” you try to form cohesive words in your head but nonsense babbles are the only things leaving your mouth.

bakugou lets out a haughty chuckle. “i can’t fucking–” he slaps your ass again, “hear you.”

through his teasing, even his own pace starts to stutter from how good your cunt is milking his cock but cumming first would mean losing.

“t-too much!” your hand curls into a fist through his hair. “wanna cum wanna cu–! ah!” you whimper in a chant before your eyes roll back and a huge wave of orgasm washes throughout your body and finally sends you into a state of frenzy.

“that’s it, baby.” his sporadic thrusts continue, making you whine from the overstimulation but he can feel that he’s already close from the twitch of his cock. “gonna fill you up.”

you can only hold on to him for dear life as he increases his faltering pace again until he can finally cross the bridge that leads him to his own high.

“f-fuck–!” bakugou bites your shoulder to muffle his moan and the clench on your ass that never left becomes stronger as he releases his hot cum inside you.

bakugou unlatches from your shoulder when you wail from the stinging pain and snickers to himself while he takes time to regain his composure. you push back his wet bangs with your fingers and place a chaste kiss on his sweaty forehead.

“so are you gonna tell me why you were mad?” you murmur, pulling away and sitting next to him before he pulls his pants back up. bakugou ponders over the reason with a furrowed brow and walks out from the car to take a heap of fresh air instead.

you’re too tired to get irritated this time, so you slip to the front seat and open the door to take a breather yourself. when he gets back into the car, he turns on the engine and the air conditioner before letting out a deep sigh.

“because...” he mumbles quietly just enough for you to hear and avoids looking at you straight in the eyes. “you retweeted a spoiler from the manga i’m reading.”

“wait, what?” you don’t know if you want to laugh or get mad because you’re sure that it had a spoiler warning and it wouldn’t be entirely your fault.

“shut up, dumbass. it fucking ruined my whole day. i don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

enjoyed this piece? wanna buy me coffee? :)

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one-sad-human · 3 years

Text

•Worth It• Duff Mckagan

Pairing: Velvet Revolver era! Duff Mckagan x Younger! Reader

Requested? Nope!

Theme: Little bit of everything/???

Warnings: Language, panic attacks, anxiety references, drug references

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Fic 2 of 2! This is the longest fic yet! Took a different approach to writing this one, hopefully it payed off. Let me know if you guys liked it or if I wasted my time with this one lol.

You had met Duff in a coffee shop in LA. It was crowded and you were lucky enough to snag a chair before the lunch rush. Duff wasn't, and asked you if he could sit at your table.

You grew up with Guns n Roses, bought his solo album the day it came out when you were just 15, and now listened to Velvet Revolver faithfully. To see your idol, your celebrity crush stand right in front of you holding a cup of coffee and a scone sent you for a loop.

"Of course," you had said, starry eyed. You were only hoping he was as kind as the interviews made him out to be. Maybe have a conversation with you and be polite for a while before leaving and never seeing each you again. That would be good enough.

It didn't end with a coffee, it had just begun. He asked for your number, and you stared at him for a moment thinking you had imagined it. That was until he tilted his head a little and looked at you with a nervous expression. He backtracked and you immediately stopped him.

"No! I mean— yes! Yes, you can absolutely have my number." You scrambled for a pen and paper and ended up scratching your number on a receipt from the record store. You shook so hard you could barely get the numbers down.

Out of all the record store receipts you've stuffed into your bag, the one you gave Duff Mckagan had to be the one for when you bought Velvet Revolver's 'Contraband.' He didn't say anything, just smiled and promised to call.

You honestly didn't think he would've. You played it off as just him trying to be nice. It didn't stop you from answering every call you got for the next three days, however, even if you recognized the number as the tax collector you'd normally never answer.

But then he called.

"I tried calling sooner, but I kept calling the wrong number. You don't have the most eligible handwriting," he had told you. You laughed but really, you were in shock.

You set up a date at the fancy restaurant downtown that always intimidated you. You didn't say anything though, even though you knew you wouldn't want any of the overpriced food and you'd end up eating something you couldn't pronounce and was two portions too small. Maybe even hit up a fast food joint afterwards.

When the day finally came, you couldn't even figure out what to wear. You couldn't tell if you looked underdressed or like you were trying too hard. Did the clothes even fit the right way? What would Duff think? Would he even care?

All questions were answered when you left your house. Duff was leaning against his slick car parked in your driveway, a button up that was barely buttoned and dress pants with boots. He stared at you and you wanted a hole in the ground to shallow you up until he smiles.

"You look gorgeous," he said. You blushed and grinned, thanking him before saying that he looked great too. He drove you to the restaurant and on the way, you talked about music.

You shared some of your favorites, he adored how well rounded you were. You liked pretty much everything from punk rock to the mellowest of mellow. Duff mentioned some of his favorites, some you made sure to remember the names of so you can check them out.

When the ride was over and you finally got to the restaurant, your previous fears came back. Duff reassured you looked better than 90% of the people there and you knew it wasn't true but it made you feel better anyway.

Your eyes widened to the size of saucers when you saw the prices of the food. You knew it'd be pricey but you thought there'd be more options that stayed within two digit numbers.

Duff saw your panicked expression and said not to worry, he'd pay. It didn't settle your nerves enough and when the waiter came, you ordered the cheapest and simplest thing you could find.

"Chicken noodle soup?" He teased. You shyly looked down and shrugged. "This isn't your scene, is it?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Want me to be completely honest with you?" You nodded. "It's not mine either."

That's all it took for you and Duff to scramble sheepishly out of the restaurant. You both shared a laugh in the car and went to Burger King. It was much more your speed and, as you'd find out that night, Duff's too. You suppose all the money he's had since such a young age didn't completely change his ways. He was like a kid trapped in a 40 year old man's body.

You'd thought at first the age gap would feel strange, after all, you were 15 years younger than him. But after that night, it was barely noticeable. Funny looks from strangers every once in a while was nothing.

By the second date, Duff was already aware fancy spots weren't your forte. He told you it was a surprise and to wear something cozy, as LA nights got chilly.

He packed a picnic basket and drove you out to the most beautiful flower field you had ever seen at sunset. It was secluded and high up, giving a perfect view of the city skyline. After gawking and taking in the sights for a few moments, you regained your ability to speak.

"It's gorgeous. Pretty far from the city, did you take me here to kill me?" You joked. He laughed and rolled his eyes. His lighthearted laugh sent sparks straight to your heart, and you decided that it was your favorite sound.

You unfolded the blanket Duff brought and you both sat down. You ate the sandwiches and sliced fruit Duff packed and talked. You talked about everything, from your family to fears and insecurities.

You told him how you suffer from nightmares. Flashbacks from your broken childhood coming back to bite you in your sleep. Duff shared how he's suffered from panic attacks since he was a teenager. You felt you knew each other for years.

Neither of you felt weird for sharing and neither made the other insecure. You were completely open and honest with each other. It was strange, you've never connected to quickly and effortlessly with someone before. Sure, you've had men in your life, but never had you clicked with someone so fast, never had you fit with someone so perfectly.

Hours passed and it felt like minutes. Only did you realize how late and how exhausted you were when you saw most of the city buildings light have gone off for the night. The city that didn't sleep was dark.

"I should get you home," Duff said to you.

"Will you stay the night?" You felt a little silly for asking. Were things going too fast? Would he even want to stay over?

He agreed, and that's how your first night together went. You both stayed up even later and had more lighthearted conversations, unlike the ones that partook at the field. Like how one of Duff's first jobs was at a bakery and could bake a mean cake and how you can't cook to save your life.

You ended up waking up without remembering falling asleep. You're head was placed comfortably on Duff's lap while his head was lolled back against the couch cushion. He looked so serene and peaceful you couldn't help but smile at the sight.

You made toast and somewhat successfully cooked some eggs and bacon. It might have been the first breakfast in years that didn't end with the smoke alarm going off.

Duff eventually wandered into the kitchen and you both ate. By the time he left, another date was already set up. He was like a drug an you were already hooked.

Months later and the addiction still wasn't kicked. You didn't want to, and Duff didn't seem to want you to quit either. You both soaked each other up like the sun on a warm day.

You had almost weekly dates and you stayed over each other's houses almost every other day. Duff did have his kids some days, though, so some days dates were cut short or Grace and Mae slept over his house and you wouldn't see each other.

You were always understanding, his kids came first and you'd never blame or get upset about it. It's something Duff admires about you, your never ending understanding and empathy for him.

One of those days where Duff stayed over at your house started normal. He cooked dinner and you washed the dishes, and then you put on an old Ramones concert you had on DVD.

You were laying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair when all of a sudden, he tensed up. He quickly stood and excused himself to the bathroom. You frowned but before you could think much of it, you heard a loud bang and something clatter to the ground.

You jumped up and rushed to the bathroom. You swung open the door because you were perfectly aware the lock hasn't worked since you moved in.

Duff was sitting on the floor, a pill bottle laying on its side not far from him. You quickly spot the name of the medication and identified it as your anti-anxiety pills. You shoved them aside and sat next to Duff.

He was sweating bullets and his skin felt cold and clammy, his breaths were labored and heartbeat was loud and pounding erratically. You coax him gently to take deep breaths, holding onto his hand tightly and talking quietly.

"I'm sorry, they come on randomly sometimes," he apologized after he'd called down, but you quickly shushed him. You reminded him of just how many nightmares he'd comforted you for and he stops feeling so bad about it.

It was always a true partnership with Duff. Never had you felt you gave or took too much, it was always equal. Always a two way street, with everything.

That wasn't the last panic attack you had to help him come down from. Later down the line you've gotten better at calming him down and learning his triggers, even though sometimes they really do come on suddenly without reason.

A year into the relationship was when you met Grace and Mae. They were young and didn't completely understand why their parents weren't together anymore, so it took them a while to warm up to you. Luckily, they eventually came around.

Duff and Susan met up regularly to discuss their kids and co-parent properly. And while you had all the reason to be jealous of your boyfriend with his ex wife, you never did. You had complete confidence in him, he was honest and loyal and you doubted he'd ever hurt you purposely.

That's why it destroyed you when he left you. Tears were shed from both parties as he gave his reasons for breaking up with you. His insecurities he tried his best to bury had come to light and nothing could change his mind.

You thought you were completely honest with each other, but you suppose his doubt in his relationship with you was the one thing he kept secret. He had somehow convinced himself you'd be better without him, between the constant touring and the baggage that came with him and his kids, he finally buckled under the weight and stress.

You had tried to convince him that he was worth it, but if Duff is one thing it's stubborn. The best relationship you'd ever have and the best year of your life went down the drain within the matter of one conversation.

You were down in the dumps for days. You barely left your bed and didn't ever leave your house. You were in a depression and couldn't get out. A few of your friends eventually found out what had happened and broke into your house and shoved you into the shower before taking you to your favorite Chinese restaurant.

You felt like a disaster. Your hair was ratted despite the shower and you refused to put real clothes on, instead wearing sweatpants and a shirt Duff had left behind. You were a mess.

The hole in the wall restaurant was never busy but always had the best food. You were almost happy your friends dragged you out of your home until you saw Duff sitting at a table, eating egg rolls and lo mein.

You've came here together all the time. The high sodium in the food always made him sick to his stomach and you'd always end up giving him nausea remedies and tea. He never changed his order though.

You locked eyes with him for a while. Dark bags were under his eyes and he looked more pale than usual. He looked as terrible as you felt. You weren't sure if you were spitefully glad he felt awful or if the despair on his face just made your heart break further.

When you couldn't take his intense jade stare anymore, you looked up at the menu. The next time you looked back he was gone, you weren't sure if he was really there at all or if you were finally losing your mind for good.

Another week crawled by. You got better enough to continue working. You had to pick up extra time for calling out for a few days after the breakup. You wouldn't say things were going well, but you weren't crying in bed every day all day anymore.

You had constant dreams about him. Some were nice, ones where he didn't leave and you were together, holding each other tightly. Most were nightmares, flashbacks of when he left. You didn't have him to comfort you anymore when you woke up soaked in sweat and tears, and that might've been the worst.

Another week went by, and you were starting to get back into the swing of things. You still thought about him, even silly little things reminded you of him. Like when you would catch a sniff of freshly baked sweets like he'd bake you or certain songs playing on the radio. It also didn't help that you ran into people wearing Guns n Roses shirts on the daily.

You also refused to get rid of anything he'd left behind. Tee shirts, guitar picks he left from when he'd play for you, or CDs from bands he introduced you to. Reminders of what you lost were scattered around your home but you couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it.

Suddenly, it's been a month. You weren't over him, but you had a feeling you'd never be completely. He was something special, you can't forget things as special as your relationship with Duff.

His items still weren't thrown out or returned, instead all packed in a box sitting in your closet. But you'd be lying if you said you would never reach into the box to grab a shirt to sleep in or a CD to listen to when you needed a reminder of the good times. You were making progress though.

You decided to leave your house one evening. You were feeling especially terrible and wanted to take a walk to clear your head. You went to the coffee shop you had first met Duff in. Maybe it was a mistake to go and get a flood of memories but you couldn't stop yourself.

You sat in a seat near the window and people watched, taking occasional sips of your drink. It was quiet except from the talk of the workers and the hum of the overhead speakers.

There was a sudden squeak of a chair of hardwood floors and it broke you out of your daze. You snapped your gaze up to meet the very familiar green eyes you've been trying to forget.

"Can we talk?" He asked, and you couldn't say 'no.' Duff sat across from you and started off by apologizing.

He said he wanted to talk to you sooner, but was too afraid you wouldn't want anything to do with him. You rolled your eyes at that, if only he knew just how much you missed him.

He then started from the beginning and explained why he made the decision to leave you. As it turns out, it was mostly because of stress. His bandmate Scott was having problems with drugs and the flashbacks from his GnR days frightened him. He was worried he would end up relapsing and he didn't want to drag you down with him.

Combine that with all the troubles that came with dating a single father, and he couldn't take it anymore. He felt too guilty.

It all seemed like ridiculous reasons to you. Even if he had made the mistake of falling off the wagon, you still would've stuck with him. And you didn't mind his kids at all, after nearly a year of knowing them and you were very close to them.

"I love you, Duff. I wouldn't have left you over that, I'd help you through anything. And I love Grace and Mae, too," you told him.

"I know, but I didn't want you to have to deal with all that baggage." You frowned at that. You reached your hand across the table and grasped his, squeezing it tenderly.

"You're worth it."

After that day, you and Duff started seeing each other again. It wasn't the same as before, but maybe even better.

You were more transparent with each other. If one had a worry or problem, you'd go to the other. You talked everything through with him and he did the same. Even if it seemed insignificant, talking everything through never failed to make it better.

You were happier and healthier than ever before. Sure, there were a roadblock or two, but they only made the relationship even stronger, and you wouldn't have changed a thing about it.

#classic rock imagine #guns n’ roses #guns n’ roses x reader #guns n’ roses imagine #80s #duff mckagan fluff #duff mckagan x reader #duff mckagan #duff mckagan imagine

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toiletwipes · 3 years

Text

and i'd give up forever to touch you

chapter seven. opening up, inside and out.

Summary: Wilbur joins you on a late drive and knows you better, finding out just how fast he is becoming attached to you.

ao3 link. ~2.1k words. masterlist.

---

he’s sitting outside, on the curb when you pull up in a compact car, music pulsing through the speakers and when you roll down the window, the volume too, and smile at him with half-awake eyes, he’s up in an instant, heart racing when he thinks back to just moments before.

to the moments when he doubted the continuity of your friendship, where he was so resolute that you would abandon him once he would become comfortable, once he showed himself to you completely.

you don’t give him a chance to think that again as you leaned over and gestured for him to get in, “it’s cold wilbur, get in,” you chortled as he scrambled to his feet, as if he forgot to move for a second. giving the door a solid shut, he rolled the window up and moved the seat back a little, feeling more awkward than the cold you had warned him about outside.

“thanks for coming with me, will, i was going nuts with how quiet it is.” you offered little more than turning up the music as you pulled into the street.

“is there something... troubling you?” he asks, keeping on the dim light on the road, the sparse cars that pass them by.

you exhale deeply, eyes trained on staying in the painted lines on the road. “doing this cover and its responsibilities have dawned on me, and trying to figure out if this will be worth it- worth scheduling weeks, maybe months of time to even reach maybe the first two minutes, with our own two parts. maybe we should think about making it simpler, narrow it down to a piano and vocal duet, or a single guitar and-” you cut yourself off, pulling into the lot of a closed-down store, one of the few in this college-centric town.

“is that what you want to do?” you turn to him, your face sullen and eyes wandering over his figure, like he didn’t need to show himself at all, and that you saw him as he is already. and you had no qualms about what you saw.

“no, i don’t want just a simple cover, done in three sessions and- and have not a single drop of substance behind it. i want to feel the love sewn into frequencies every time i listen to it, i want to feel-”

you cut yourself off before smiling at him, “i want to feel alive when i hear it, because i know that’s how good it could be.” you trail off, looking out towards the windshield. “and i’ve only felt truly alive when making music, alive in a way that is beyond the pulse of my beating heart, you understand that, don’t you?” he stares into your face and finds it.

he sees you, bearing your true intentions behind this project. he wonders if you’re trying to share this intimate experience you feel with music with him.

he wonders how special you find him to want to share such a thing with him only.

“i don’t think i’ve ever felt it.” he admits.

“not even when you wrote your songs?” you question, head tilting to lie against the headrest.

he shakes his head, “i wrote those songs to help me cope with my life, something i didn’t understand at the time.” he wonders if you’re trying to do the same.

“i could show you, if you want, but fair warning, you’ll get addicted to the feeling.” you joke, and he smiles, but he knows you’re serious in the offer. with this cover, you’ll probably show him something he won’t forget for as long as he lives. it’s curious to see if he’ll survive it. “well- now that’s off my chest, how about some early morning mcdonald’s?” you say, as if trying to cut the thick layer of intimate honesty about oneself into diced cubes.

he blinks but you’re already driving to the closest mcdonald’s before he has a chance to respond. and you’re reaching into the cup holders, holding out your phone to him and telling him a pass-code. “play some music, it’s connected to the bluetooth already. or a podcast, though you don’t seem like the guy to listen to podcasts to me,” you speak and you’re giving him a quick grin before turning back to the road.

his heartbeat quickens when holding your phone, knowing your pass-code and knowing you have this solid trust in him to have given both to him. even if you didn’t know he has had thoughts that are dark in nature, it was.. exciting to say the least, he would almost say heartwarming.

but he does what you’ve asked of him, opening up the green music app and typing in the name of a song he thinks you might like.

though, when it plays out in the speakers, you spare him a glance. “you like sleeping at last?” speaking as though you were leaning towards dislike.

“is it- is it bad?”

you clicked your tongue, “not bad, just-” you hum, giving a soft laugh, “-just curious, didn’t think you’d like them, is all. we’re still new to each other, and yet, it feels like we’re old friends reconnecting.”

“you’re a big part of that, to be fair.” he folds his arms and tucked his back adjacent to the window and seat, turning to look at you fully.

you shrug, pulling into the parking lot and into the drive-thru. turning the music down as you rolled the window down, you give him a short look and he is turning his eyes on the painstakingly bright menu.

telling you what he wanted, you nod, and talk to the exhausted employee over the speaker about y’all’s order, pulling up into the second window.

reaching towards the back you are surprised to see will holding out a card towards you, you meant to deny it but he nudges it in your hands, and you just hand it towards the employee. the next few minutes are quiet, waiting for the food and handling both it and the drinks towards the passenger, passing the receipt and card back to the owner, and you drive off.

finding another empty lot, with a little less buildings in the area, you two begin to eat in the quiet of the night, sleeping at last smoothing out the edges.

when you crumple the wrapper in a ball, and toss it in the bag, you turn to face will yourself.

he faces you too when he’s done, trying not to show how the intensity of your stare is affecting him. “can i help you?” he asks, turning his gaze to the time. 2:47.

“this is the longest time we’ve spent talking to each other, and i realize you have a nice voice speaking as well as singing.” his mouth opens a little bit and his skin heats up more than any properly working heater.

“thank you- i guess?” he’s confused, he knows that, it’s on what he’s flustered about is the confusing part. is it the fact no one told him he has a nice voice, generally? is it the fact that it’s late and you must be focusing hard on his voice to stay awake? or is it the fact that you’re looking past his defenses once more and seeing him as he is? your honor, he’ll say it’s probably all three.

“you’re welcome.” and that’s when he focuses on you. you’re wearing his beanie, his jacket, and some shorts that ride up your thighs. and as you turn your gaze to your phone, turning it on to change the song probably, he glances at your collarbone. bare, save for his jacket. were you only wearing his jacket on your torso?

picturing you without it was already a bad idea, but imagining what he’d do to you like that- he moves his head forcibly, staring out into the darkness.

“do you want to go home or do you want to come over? rosie won’t mind you being there as long as we’re quiet because i don’t know what it is about you but-” you yawn, covering your face, “-i’m getting too tired to drive but you’ve only just gotten here, so, whatever you decide is pretty good with me.”

he thinks about going home alone, and slipping under the cold and unkind covers, shivering till the blankets warmed. and then he thinks about going home with you, and possibly sleeping on the too small of a couch for him and you there with your comfortable, soft ambiance. thinks about rosie waking the two of you up in the morning in her pajamas, making or picking breakfast up.

and he offers to drive for you, leaving you to doze off in the passenger side with piano notes trailing off in your ear.

~~~

parking in front of the dorm building, he leans over to shake your shoulder only to falter in his movements, your hunched over figure leaning against the window and your breath fogs the glass.

then you’re stirring awake, and you’re blinking the sleep away from your eyes and you’re looking right at him, for the third time, and he doesn’t know if he should be endeared by it or frustrated on how you can see him so easily.

but he’s turning the car off and walking around your car to open the door, helping you out and letting you lean on him for a second, never mind his skin itching to burn. you two walk to your dorm, unlocking it in the silent hallway.

the door creaks slightly as you push it open and aside, “you can have the couch or the bed, i’m too tired to care,” you walk to the kitchen and you open the doors to find something to drink, will recognizes it as an apple juice container. “though, you should try my bed, it’s too good to be true,” seeing will’s face you wave at him to follow you, though your movements sluggish, you prove you’re still conscious.

pushing your bedroom door open, he finds the papers from earlier stacked and he finds you hopping up onto your bed, with the apple juice between your legs and you patting the space next to you. he doesn’t make nearly the amount of effort you put in to sit beside you, and he begins to regulate his breathing to calm down, being near anybody really would put someone like him in a tizzy, he rationalizes.

“after i finish this, i’m going to pass out, you can do the same wherever.” and in a much more alarming speed, you chug the half-full container and cover your mouth when you’re done, giving a slight burp. “and i won’t say i told you so,” your lips lift up as if you meant to smile briefly but you were too tired to commit to the action.

leaning over to put the jug on the desk, you are left with shuffling in your spot until you’re covered by your blanket with your feet underneath will’s legs.

“night, wilbur, see ya in the morning,” you mumble to yourself mostly, but he hears you and he mumbles something similar, leaning his head against your wall and arguing with himself internally.

he has a chance, now.

when he looks straight at the dresser, he can see the camera, almost tauntingly.

though what sends chills down his spine isn’t your cold, uncovered feet touching him, no it’s the fact that the things he moved to cover the device, they’re gone and it’s almost noticeable.

it wouldn’t be hard to miss and it’s the fact that if he does take his chance and move it, you’ll know it was him. know that he was the one to put it there and take it away.

and then you’ll hate him, cut him off, take him away from the project, keep rosie away from him, and so much more. and nights like these won’t happen ever again. he won’t get these quiet moments with you, won’t get to appreciate a person like you.

so as he leaves to grab a blanket from the linen closet, and pads his way to your room, he decides that he’ll leave the cameras there, and he’ll take his chances.

maybe in a few months he can take it and put this whole thing behind you two, maybe you never even noticed it.

whatever happens later, he thinks, at least he had this night with you, tucking himself under the blanket and curling just nearly against you, and he feels at home next to you.

is that what you are, though? home? he wonders as he listens to your breathing for a few minutes, thinking that’s what you’d had to be. so open, so warm, and so comfortable to be around.

even if you hadn’t meant for it to happen, wilbur was swiftly becoming dependent, some would say addicted, to you and everything you’ve offered him.

but that would be a problem for a future will.

for now, he would sleep. and he would do it next to you. his worries can set themselves aside for a few hours.

...

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