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mermaidgirl30 · 7 months

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✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 1: Introductions✨

Club owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Here is my new club owner Joel series! Thank you to the lovely @janaispunk for making me this beautiful mood board ❤️ Joel Miller is the biggest menace in this one. I wanted to somehow mix a little 50 Shades of Grey but also create something unique and super hot, so hope you enjoy 50 Shades of pleasure dom Joel! Comments and reblogs are most appreciated. Let me know your thoughts on this one! As always, I LOVE writing and hope you enjoy my stories as much as I love writing and sharing them with you 💕

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Word Count: 9.7k

Tags: No outbreak au, thigh riding, Joel’s dirty mouth, flirting, pining, fingering

Summary: After your friends drag you out to Club Inferno on a Friday night, you meet an unexpected man with dark brown eyes. That man is Joel Miller, who turns out to be the owner of the club. The menace that will turn your life upside down. After not dating for a couple of years, Joel finds out and strikes up a proposition for you. Keep coming back and he’ll make sure you experience pleasure like you’ve never felt before.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Friday night and instead of sitting down with a cold glass of white wine and a book on the couch, you’re currently standing in a dress that’s too tight and heels so high you think you’ll fall over at any minute. The tight black dress clings to your body like a suction cup, and the slit in the side of your left thigh is almost showing too much skin the more you move around.

You spent the last hour sitting at your glowing vanity, curling your hair into long spirals and putting on smokey dark eyeshadow that makes your eyes stand out and deep red lipstick that sits matted against your lips. This isn’t your usual. You like to stay in after a long week at the library, not go clubbing till 2:00am. You’re not an extrovert like all your friends are, so this is a once in a while thing you even do.

You take one more look at yourself in the mirror and sigh heavily. This will be good for you. You need to socialize. You need to get back into the dating field, but that honestly just sounds like a nightmare right now. Dating in general just sucks. It’s like no man knows how to even properly treat a woman nowadays. Your last boyfriend was a complete nightmare. Tall, lanky, sports obsessed, demanded blowjobs without even offering to go down on you once. That’s how all the guys had been in the past, and you were honestly just over it. Fuck men.

Before you can get all worked up about past boyfriends, you head to your apartment door when you hear a sharp knock and giddy laughter on the other side. That meant the girls were here. Here goes nothing. When you open the door, Brianna and Taylor lose it when they see what you’re wearing.

“Oh my God, look at you!” Brianna screams as Taylor twirls you around to get a good look at you. Brianna’s soft brown eyes and long blonde curls look you over from head to toe. ��You’re such a babe! And that dress? God, it makes your ass look so good and that slit in your dress?! You are definitely going to get laid tonight,” she shrieks as she gives you a quick hug hello.

“Bri, stop!” you laugh, shaking your head no. “I am not getting laid tonight. I’m so over guys,” you cringe as you roll your eyes.

“Oh, please. All the men are going to be looking at you tonight, you little slut!” Taylor smirks as her green eyes sparkle like emeralds when she looks at your short dress. Her pinned up red hair sits perfectly in a messy bun atop her head, her white heels digging into the wooden floor as she circles you.

“No, guys. Really, I don’t need to try to find someone tonight. I’m only going out because you’re forcing me to,” you complain with a huff.

“Sure, babe. That vibrator that sits in your nightstand isn’t gonna get you anywhere fast. You need to be laid properly. So we’re gonna find you a man tonight if it’s the last thing we do,” Brianna says with a beam of a bright smile.

“Whatever, let’s just go. I need a drink,” you whine as they pull you out of the comfort of your small apartment and whisk you out the door, shoving you inside the White Cadillac that sits idle on the corner of the curb.

You slump in the front passenger seat as soon as Brianna drives off, entering the busy traffic of Austin as the city lights flash brightly outside the window. You sigh and lean on the edge of the window as Taylor Swift’s “Karma” blasts through the speakers. Taylor and Brianna sing along loudly, but you sit mute with your arms crossed across your chest.

“Oh, cheer up, babe! You’re supposed to be having fun tonight, not brooding in the corner like a pent up prisoner,” Brianna laughs as she hits your arm lightly.

“I’d be in a better mood if I was curled up on my couch with a good book,” you groan as you stifle out another sigh.

Taylor leans over the back of the front seat and takes a good look at you. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. You will have fun tonight whether you like it or not! This club is to die for. I know it just opened last year, but seriously it’s the hottest club in Austin,” she says excitedly with a big grin zipped across her contoured face.

“What’s the name of this club again?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“Club Inferno,” Taylor says with a smirk. “Inferno is right. It’s hot as fuck in there, and the men that go are super sexy,” she swoons as she sits back against her leather seat.

“Club Inferno, huh? Wonder how the owner came up with a name like that,” you ask curiously as you focus your sights on the busy sidewalks that are littered with dressed up couples and groups that look like they’re about to head to the club as well.

“I don’t know, babe. Maybe you can ask the owner yourself,” Brianna smirks in the front seat.

“Who’s the owner?” you ask, trying not to sound too intrigued.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t say online, but I hear rumors that he’s ridiculously hot. Like I’m talking about an 11/10 hot,” she smirks as she pulls into a parking spot a few feet from the lit up club.

“Sounds like someone I wouldn’t be interested in. He already sounds arrogant and like all the other men I’ve dated,” you spit out, a snarl hanging on your lips.

“Oh, just shut up and have some fun tonight, please. You’re killing my vibes,” she says as she rolls her eyes and puts the car in park.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll try to have fun,” you sigh as you step out of the car onto the hard concrete, pulling your dress down so it doesn’t ride up and expose too much skin.

“Good, now let’s go drink and dance!” Brianna and Taylor scream together. You just laugh and follow them to the front of the club, stopping at the metallic black double doors as you get your IDs checked. Once they give them back, you step into the club and gasp at the sight.

The inside is absolutely gigantic. The club sits two stories high with a shimmering disco ball hanging in the middle of the crowded dance floor. The walls are pitch black with red glowing signs all around that say “Club Inferno”. The sign that sits behind the bar is also glowing red and says “Sinners Welcome”. The bar has a large mirror splayed across the wall with bottles of beer and liquor stacked high against it. The bar top has a sleek dark wooden hue to it and the bar stools are made of black leather material.

There’s dark booths all around that are marked off for VIP lounges, private parties, or reservations made prior. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling as they make shiny patterns on the dark hardwood floors. An open lounge area sits in the opposite corner of the bar where leather couches and small glass tables sit scattered around. You look away when you see a cozy couple making out in a corner of one of the couches and try not to roll your eyes.

When you turn towards the dance floor, you see the glow of fluorescent blue and red flashing lights mix in with the glittering disco ball as the Dj spins some tracks on a large display against the wall. The dance floor is crowded, maybe two-hundred people at the least stand grinding up on each other as Rhianna blasts through the speakers. Two platforms with poles attached to the center sit in the back corners of the room for anyone to use at their leisure.

Behind the bar sits two long, dark hallways with various rooms attached down the shadowed corners of the hallway. A spiral staircase sits next to the second hall and leads up to the second floor. From here you can’t see what all is upstairs, but it looks like another bar sits up there and maybe some pool tables from what you can see. This club wasn’t anything like you expected it to be. You thought it’d be small and maybe less crowded. Boy, were you wrong.

“Don’t you love it in here?!” Taylor asks excitedly as she twirls around in her short forest green strapless dress and pulls you to the dance floor.

“It’s a lot bigger than I imagined it to be,” you shout out loudly against the beat of the music. “Tay, we just got here. Can’t we sit down?” you whine as Brianna pulls you into the middle of the raging crowd.

“Not until after a couple of dances,” Taylor smiles as she pushes her back against a man in a suit that grinds up against his blonde girlfriend. You groan but go along with them.

“Loosen up, hun. The night’s just started. We’ll get some alcohol in you, and you’ll be just fine,” Brianna beams as she grabs a few Jell-O shots from the bartender that makes her away across the busy dance floor. “Drink up!” she yells as she hands you a container of red liquid.

“Fine,” you groan as you pop the shot into your mouth and instantly taste cherry and vodka mixed together. It slides down your throat easily, and you put the empty vial on the bartender’s tray. Taylor and Brianna both cheer after you take the shot and start grinding up against each other as the music switches over to a Beyoncé song.

You decide to try to enjoy yourself and sway your hips, getting into the song as the dance floor rocks back and forth. You keep your focus on the shimmering disco ball and watch the way the sparkling glass reflects off the walls. You keep your eyes from staying too much in the crowd and focus on your friends as they lift their arms and shimmy their hips to the beat.

After a couple of long songs, they agree to take a break and get some drinks. You and Taylor find an empty couch and sit down while Brianna goes up to the bar and orders a round of LITs for the table. After a few minutes, she returns with the glasses of alcohol and passes them out. You take a big gulp and feel the remnants of alcohol run down your throat with a slight burning sensation staying stagnant in your mouth.

“So, see any cute guys you might be interested in?” Taylor asks as she looks around the crowded club, focusing her eyes on a tall man with short blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. “What about that one, huh? He’s kinda cute,” she says with a flirtatious smile as she eyes him.

You scrunch your nose up and shake your head. “No, Taylor. Not that one. Maybe you can go talk to him. He looks like your type,” you laugh as you watch her eye him up and down. You take another sip of your drink and set it on the glass table as the condensation drips down the glass.

Brianna smirks at you and looks from the bar, back to you a few times. “Bri, what? I know that look. That’s a plotting face you always make when you’re up to no good.”

She just smiles wider. “You see that man at the bar? That one on the left corner with the white collared button-up shirt?” She points him out and you flick your eyes over in that direction nonchalantly.

The man she points out is sitting in one of the barstools and sips casually on a cold glass of what looks to be whiskey. You slowly drag your eyes over him, taking in the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows to expose thick veins that spider all the way down his arms to end in massive hands. His biceps bulge against the cotton material every time he flexes and moves to grab his cold glass of alcohol. His dark blue jeans press up against muscular thighs and a fancy black watch sits latched onto his left wrist. His hair is dark and streaked with grey lines as thick tousled curls sit wildly atop his head. A dark, patchy beard shadows his sculpted, sharp jawlines.

Your eyes move over his greying locks again slowly, taking in the way a couple curls fall against his forehead subtly. His curls look soft to the touch, you almost wonder what it’d be like to run your fingers through his hair or maybe drag your nails against that salt and pepper scruff…

You jolt out of your daydream as his eyes linger over to yours, calmly taking another drink of whiskey as his eyes stay locked on yours. You pull your eyes away and look back at Brianna. “What about him?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“The man hasn’t stopped looking at you since you walked into the club,” she giggles as you go wide-eyed.

“Oh, he has not. Please, he’s got to be looking at you or Taylor,” you reply as she looks back up at the bar.

“I don’t think so, honey,” Taylor laughs as she knocks you in the shoulder with her arm. “He’s looking straight at you.”

You look back up and freeze. His dark eyes find yours again as a small smirk appears on the edge of his mouth, curling into something that dares you to challenge his gaze. You suck in a breath and look back down, grabbing your drink as you try to calm your nerves down. Calm down, calm down. He’s just a guy. He’s probably not even interested in anything you have to say.

“You’re going to go talk to him,” Brianna smiles deviously as she narrows her eyes and smirks up at you.

“What?!” you choke out, the liquid flowing down your windpipes uncomfortably. “No, no way. I can’t.”

“Yes, you are,” Taylor encourages you. “He’s totally gorgeous. Like come on. He’s clearly at least in his upper forties. Older, probably has a lot of money, dresses nicely, and I see no wedding ring on him,” she smirks, eyes darkening as she gets up and pulls you along for the ride.

“No, Tay. Please, I can’t. I’m not…”

She cuts you off as Brianna joins in, pulling you towards the bar as your feet try to stay planted to the spot you’re in. “You’re not what? Look at you, you’re hot. Don’t waste it by being boring. Go talk to him,” she encourages as she pulls you further, halfway to the bar now as you see him in the corner of your vision eyeing you.

“No, guys. Come on. I’m too… I can’t…”

Brianna stops you from saying anything else. “Look, you're going to go talk to him, and he’s going to buy you a drink, and then me and Tay are going to go back out there and dance. And you’re going to go up there and flirt with him and twirl your hair and get his number,” she says seriously as she drags you to the edge of the bar.

“But I… he’s too… I can’t…” you stutter out.

“Go on, babe. You can do it.” Brianna and Taylor give you a hard push and shove you against the edge of the bar, only a few bar stools away from the man with the dark eyes. “Have fun,” Brianna whispers in your ear with a laugh as she grabs Taylor’s hand and leads her away from the bar, leaving you all alone with your heart pounding uncontrollably in your chest.

You take a seat on one of the empty black bar stools and rest your arms on the sleek bar top, looking over the menu nervously as you flip through the pages of drinks. You don’t look up, afraid that if you do you’ll lock eyes again with the handsome stranger. No more dating, no more dating, no more dating.

“Is this seat taken?” A deep Southern voice fills your ears as you look up and find the man with dark eyes looking down at you.

Fuck.

“Ummm no,” you answer shyly as you tuck a curl behind your ear, cursing your friends for pushing you into doing this.

“Mind if I sit?” he asks with a raised brow. You nod and he pushes back the empty bar stool, lightly brushing his leg against yours as a chill runs down your spine at the contact.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks as he looks you over slowly, making your eyes widen at the action.

“Oh, sure,” you respond meekly, putting the drink menu down before you rip it in half from the way you’re anxiously flipping through the pages.

“So, what’s your drink of choice?”

You muster up an ounce of courage and fire back a question without thinking. “What do you think my drink of choice is?” you ask flirtatiously, batting your eyelashes up at him as if to win him over. Your adrenaline spikes in your body, and it’s as if the alcohol turned you into another girl.

What the fuck is wrong with you? This isn’t like you. You don’t flirt with men at clubs, especially gorgeous men like him. But he’s so hot, you can’t resist. Fuck.

He chuckles at the question and drags his eyes nice and slow over your body, clenching his jaw up as he concentrates on you. You can see the calculations and assumptions he’s making swirl and tick in his mind. He’ll never guess right. He’s just like any other guy. They all get it wrong, always.

His eyes flick back up to your face as a gentle smile spreads over his mouth, forming dimples that press deep into his cheeks.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

“Hmmm, let me see,” he starts slow, his words slipping like melted butter off his tongue. “You don’t seem like the type to drink hard liquor. Fireball? Definitely not. Tequila? Can’t see it. But hmmm, let me guess…” He takes another good look at you and stares into your eyes. Those warm brown eyes searing through you as you melt into them.

God, those eyes. Those fucking brown doe eyes.

“Rum? Maybe. Vodka? Most likely. Whiskey… maybe a whiskey girl. But you…” He leans in closer, and you can smell the cologne dripping off his skin. Can practically taste the whiskey that encompasses his lips. Can almost feel how his mouth would taste with his tongue gliding against yours.

You focus on deep breaths as he rests his large hand right next to yours, barely brushing the tips of his fingers against yours as goosebumps start to crawl slowly up your arm. He laughs lightly as he forms a guess with a Southern drawl dripping off his tongue. “Malibu tonic? Guessin’ you’re a fruity cocktail kind of girl.”

“How did you know that’s one of my favorite drinks?” you ask with a wide-eyed stare.

“Just an assumption, sweetheart. I’m pretty good at readin’ people. Especially ones as pretty as yourself,” he smirks, turning toward the bar to call over one of the bartenders.

Sweetheart? Pretty? Oh fuck, you’re in trouble.

As soon as the blonde bartender comes over, he wastes no time and gives her your drink orders. “One Malibu tonic and one Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey on the rocks. Thanks, Hailey,” he smiles softly and nods as she smiles back and turns away, getting the drinks prepared in a flash.

Hailey? Of course he knows her by name. He probably knows every fucking girl in this obscene club by name.

You frown, a tinge of jealousy hitting the back of your closed up throat. But why are you jealous? You don’t care about this man, don’t care if he even buys you a drink. You don’t date, and there’s a reason you don’t anymore. But that’s a dark place you won’t go tonight or ever again.

He notices the shift in your mood as you sit up straighter and clench your jaw into place, focusing on not losing your temper over a simple thing as a name.

“Y’alright there? Look a little tense,” he asks, hovering his thick fingers closer to your hand as you pull away from him.

“I’m fine,” you bite back a little too harshly. He doesn’t respond, only nods. He knows you’re not fine, but he doesn’t press on it.

When the bartender comes over to drop off your drinks, you can’t help but notice the small silver name tag that’s latched on to the front of her black low-cut tank top. The name Hailey is in sparkly letters, and you feel shame instantly cover your face.

You’re a fucking idiot.

You take a sip of the fruity liquid and let it slide down the back of your throat, along with the bitterness and jealousy that was there seconds ago. You don’t even know his name, and you’re already acting jealous? Jesus. You’re in way over your head.

He takes a swig of his amber colored drink and swallows, a gentle smile returning to his handsome face. He sticks out his hand and you take it slowly, feeling the back of his calloused fingers as they burn into your hand, simmering like a hot fire as it runs through your veins. It’s firm, strong, powerful. And you know. You know you’re in trouble.

“The name’s Joel. What’s yours, sweetheart?” His hand lingers maybe a little too long in your hold, but you don’t shake him off. You just let him drop it when he’s ready, feeling the now cold hand as you flex your fingers into a fist in your lap, trying to remember exactly how his hand fit perfectly in yours.

You tell him your name, and it floats like a siren’s song off his lips, a trance like lull that sucks you in. “That’s a pretty name, darlin’. You come around here much? Haven’t seen you before. Think I would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours,” he says with a smirk, his coffee colored eyes focused on you. You have to work hard to find words before you lose all control of your voice.

Pretty? Oh, he’s laying it on thick.

“No, but sounds like you’re a usual here. You come here a lot or something?” you ask, eyes fixed on the way he holds his crystal glass with a strong grasp.

“Somethin’ like that,” he chuckles, a look like he knows something you don’t displaying on the lines of his forehead.

“Of course you do. Not me, this is my first time here,” you say as you shift uncomfortably in your bar stool.

“And? How d’you like it?” he asks with questions lingering in his bright eyes.

“Honestly? It’s okay. It’s a little loud for my taste, but it’s decent,” you say as you take another sip of your fruity concoction.

“Oh, just decent? Tell me more of your thoughts,” he says as he puts an elbow on the bar top and leans his cheek on his knuckles, waiting for you to answer.

You shake your head. “Nah, you don’t want to hear my thoughts. They’re… well, they’re…” You lose yours words to the blaring music that stirs across the crowded dance floor.

“Enlighten me,” he says with a husky voice while he stirs the amber liquid, eyes fixed intently on you.

You gulp at the sharp eyesight, your knees knocking against the smooth bar walls anxiously. “Well, there’s no food here for starters. I’d kill for some chicken strips right now,” you groan, salivating at the thought of food right now.

He laughs in response. “Sweetheart, this is a club. This ain’t a cheap bar with finger foods.”

You snap back at him. “Well, it’d be a hell of a lot better if the club had some.”

His eyebrows raise in defense, holding out a hand to calm you down. “Alright, calm down, tiger. Gonna start seeing claws in a second,” he laughs as you sigh and nod your head. “What else?” he asks.

“What else what?” you question as you swirl your drink around mindlessly.

“What else would you change about the club?” His eyebrows knit together like he’s concentrating on what you have to say.

When was the last time a guy ever listened to you? Whatever, he asked so you’ll tell him exactly what you think.

“The signs are all red. It’d look better if there were also pink ones. Gives some light contrast and a more subtle look,” you shrug, sipping on more of the tasty alcohol in your hands.

“Hmmm, might not be a bad idea. Anything else?” His gaze stays on you as he throws back a gulp of whiskey, sitting the crystal glass back on the edge of the flat bar top.

“Why do you care? I’m just rambling,” you say with a convicted tone.

“I might’ve talked to the owner a couple of times here and there. Might give him some suggestions next time I see him,” he smirks, making you roll your eyes at his perfect dimples.

God, why does he have to be so pretty.

“Okay then,” you say with a smug look. “The alcohol menu could use some more options, other than tons of beers. Make it more friendly for cocktails and mixed drinks. And the VIP booths? Maybe save some for general guests to reserve when they get here. The Dj? He needs to mix up the tunes, these songs get old pretty quick. Throw some throwbacks in there, play some more upbeat rock songs. And for rooms? Maybe open up some private rooms for guests who want to chill in a quieter area where they can think. It’s fucking loud in here,” you say sternly as you cross your leg over your knee and give him a devious smirk, feeling like you just let him have it.

All he does is shake his head and let out a low whistle, a small chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest. “You’re a little firecracker, ain’t ya? Shit. You sure got a lot to pick apart. Don’t ya?”

You just shrug nonchalantly. “It’s just what I’d do differently. Not that my opinion matters.”

“Sure it does, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to give him the rundown when I see him.” He winks at you, and you feel a weird flutter in your stomach that you shouldn’t even be feeling. You chase it down with another drink of alcohol, letting the burn fill the void.

“This isn’t your scene I’m guessin’?” he asks carefully, honey eyes drawing back to yours again patiently.

“No, it’s really not,” you shake your head defeatedly. “My friends dragged me out tonight, said I needed to get out of the house and let loose. I had a really long week and I was looking forward to staying in with a glass of wine, but no. Just had to come out,” you say with a huff, your cheeks growing crimson with the sudden awareness of your bad attitude and complaining.

Christ. Just calm the fuck down. You’re going to scare him off.

“What is your scene then?” he asks, ignoring your whole meltdown about coming out in the first place.

“What?” you ask with wide eyes, surprised he wants to continue the conversation with your depressing ass.

“What’s your scene, angel?”

Angel. Oh.

“Oh, uh. I… I like more quiet environments. Like bookstores. There’s nothing more I like than strolling through a bookstore with an iced coffee in my hand, just smelling the fresh pages of the books,” you smile, thinking of the last time you went to the local bookstore and fawned over the latest edition of The Odyssey. Classics were some of your favorites.

“Books, huh? What’s your favorite?” he asks, general curiosity piqued as he continues staring at you, fixedly.

You eye him suspiciously but continue. “Pride and Prejudice,” you say quietly, eyes averting from his momentarily.

“Ahh, a classic. We are all fools in love,” he quotes almost perfectly, his Southern accent making every word sound like sweet poetry to your ears.

Your eyes grow wider, shock hitting your system. “You know Jane Austen?” you ask incredibly, your hand gripping your cup uncomfortably tight.

“Mhm. Read most of her books,” he says without a hint of surprise in his voice.

He reads classic books. Holy shit.

“Wow. That’s uh-” you lose your concentration, mouth gawking open at him. He reaches out and closes your jaw for you, his calloused fingers burning your skin the more he touches you.

“Don’t act too surprised. Some men like to read the classics too,” he smirks as he drops his hand, ending the contact way too soon. “What else?”

“Huh?” you ask, still shocked at his last words.

“What else do ya like?” His weight shifts just a tad and his knee skims yours as goosebumps form over your skin, the contact almost too much for you.

“Why?” you ask, almost self conscious of yourself. There’s way more interesting girls here than you, more up to his liking probably. You’re boring while all these other girls know how to party. You’re an introvert, you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be talking to him.

“Why what?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows, the lines above his forehead wrinkling at the notion as one of his tousled curls fall into his face. You almost want to push it back for him, almost.

“Why the interest in me? I’m not... I’m…”

“You’re not what?” he almost barks out as his eyes get a shade darker. It’s a little intimidating and makes you sit up straighter, aware of all the sulking you’ve done this evening. You’re just making it worse for yourself. You’re going to scare him off.

“I’m not like all these other girls in here. I’m… I’m shy, reserved. I don’t even come close to some of these women in here. I’m…”

He cuts you off as he cups your chin with his large hand, syrupy eyes clouding your vision as he stares at you intently. It makes your heart speed up frantically as blood rushes through your ears uncontrollably.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. You’re not like the rest of them. You’re interesting. You caught my attention. And you’re stunning,” he says smoothly as his eyes drop down the length of you, taking in the large slit in your tight black dress and trailing back up to your eyes, a breath catching deep in your throat.

He drops his hand from your chin and turns back to his glass of whiskey, pouring another shot down his throat as he slides it back against the sleek bar top, running a hand through his wild curls.

God, you want to run your hands through those curls, want to feel just how soft and silky they really are…

A rough voice pulls you from your distant thoughts as a tall, bulky man dressed in all black slides up beside you in the next bar stool, ogling your body as he fans his eyes over you in a disgusting manner. You want to roll your eyes and ignore him already.

“Aren’t you a sexy thing? Let me buy you a drink. What’ll it be? Tequila, beer on tap?” he asks with a snide smirk on his face.

“I've got her well taken care of. Thanks for the offer, though. But she won’t be needing that drink,” he faintly growls under his breath, placing his large hand on your leg as he curls his calloused fingers around your inner thigh slowly. You about jump from the warm contact and how it instantly eases you in a weird way. You barely know the man, why did this feel… safe?

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize she was with anyone,” he huffs, eyeing Joel’s hand on your bare thigh as it burns through your skin like a scalding stove.

He’s just a man. He’s just a man. Get it together. You’re not doing this tonight.

“Think she’s in good hands,” Joel breathes, his voice deep and gruff as his eyes narrow at the man. He turns with a nod and walks in the opposite direction, going to find his next victim.

Joel keeps his thick fingers pressed to your thigh for a few more seconds then releases his hand, the same time you let go of the breath you were holding. “Uhh, thanks,” you say awkwardly, leaning against the bar top to look him in the eyes again. In those pretty brown doe eyes that light up tingling feelings that you want to keep at bay.

No hookups. None.

“No problem, sweetheart,” he says as he turns to look at you again, eyes lingering on more unanswered questions.

“So, you seein’ anyone?” he asks as he drags his thumb over the rim of his glass cup, slowly collecting condensation on the tip of his thumb. The sight makes you gulp.

“No,” you say quietly, shaking your head slowly.

“You’re tellin’ me that a girl as beautiful as you isn’t seein’ anyone?” he asks in disbelief, a small disbelieving laugh leaving his lips.

“Well, I’m not,” you shrug, eyes flicking back and forth between the thumb that languidly glides around the edge of the glass and his honey eyes that stay focused on you. It’s intimidating, to say the least.

“Why not?” he asks curiously, an eyebrow raising in question as he waits for your answer. You don’t really have a good one for him, not really wanting to go into the traumatic ex boyfriends you had been with before.

“I dunno. Just haven’t found the right one, I guess. Been busy. And besides, I’m not…” You stop mid sentence, staring at Joel’s scowl on his face. What was he so mad about now? What had you said?

“Don’t give me that answer. Sweetheart, the entire bar is staring at you.” You look behind you and gasp. He’s right. All the men gathered around the counter are trailing their eyes to you, eyes ogling you from a distance, hoping to get a chance to talk to you.

You swing your bar stool back around and stop as your knees lock with his, your eyes focusing on him. Only him. “As for me, I’ve had my eyes on you the minute you stepped through those doors. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart. A real angel, at best,” coffee eyes honing in on you like a hawk stalking its prey. Suddenly you can’t hear the noisy music, can’t hear the clicking of the glasses behind you. It’s just you and Joel, in your own little bubble as the words crash down on you like a siren’s song.

Gorgeous. Sweetheart. You’re in trouble.

“Oh,” is all you can gasp out. He’s charming, almost too charming. And you hate him for it. Hate him for how he’s making you feel. Like you’re special, like you mean something. It makes you sick, so fucking sick.

You take a slow drink of your alcohol, hoping the taste will cool you off from the heat he just gave you. “Tell me, angel. When’s the last time a man has gotten you off?”

You choke on your drink and spit it out, wiping the cloth napkin over your chin as you catch your breath. “Excuse me?” you ask in disbelief.

“You heard me. It’s a simple question. When’s the last time a man has gotten you off?” His jaw tics and his eyebrow rises, his eyes hounding you as he waits for your answer.

You’re speechless, not believing what you just heard. But the way he’s looking at you now tells you he won’t back off till he knows. So you amuse him. “It’s been a couple of years,” you answer quietly, your voice barely audible above the ringing music.

“A couple years?” Joel asks incredulously. “Christ. No wonder you’ve been uptight lately. Y’need somebody to make you feel good, ain’t that right?” he asks with a rough, gravelly voice as he inches closer to you, your hands digging into the material of your black dress as he comes closer, closer, closer.

“I… I’m fine,” you say nervously, but he keeps leaning in, body hovering over yours as his hand ghosts over your thigh, causing goosebumps to raise in his presence.

“You’re not fine, sweetheart. You’re trembling. Your legs are shaking,” he points out as he trails his fingers lightly over your thigh, his whiskey breath breathing down your neck as he runs his lips across the shell of your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.

“I could make you feel so good, sweetheart. Could make you feel things you’ve never felt before. You want it, don’t ya? I can almost smell how bad you want it,” he teases as he whispers into your ear, making your legs squeeze tighter together as you hold in a whine of need.

Fuck, stop. Not tonight, not with him. He’s too charming, too tempting, too hot for you.

The edge of his patchy salt and pepper scruff slides against your jaw, making you want to run your fingers profusely through it as you drag your nails over him. Imagining his mouth between your legs, his tongue on your clit as he makes meticulous circles over you.

Fuck.

You catch your breath and watch him pull back just the slightest, his honey eyes now darker in shade, more prominent as his pupils expand wider into dark circles. “Let me give it to ya, angel. Let me take care of you,” he says with bared teeth, a devilish grin taking form on his face as his body crowds yours against the bar stool, just hovering as his hands cover the sides of you, fingers barely grazing your hips that send a fire right through your lungs.

You catch your breath and say the most logical response. “I don’t need it. I don’t do this, I don’t…”

“You don’t what, darlin’? Don’t let a man make you feel good? Don’t let a man touch you where you need it most?” he purrs, calloused fingers finding your thigh as he runs his hand up your smooth skin, leaving burn marks with every place he touches. It’s hot, sadistic, evil.

“I… I…” You’re completely flustered from him, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. He’s so fucking charming and handsome and fuck. He’s trying to coax you, and he’s doing a damn good job at it, too.

“I can see how bad you want it,” he purrs. “The way your cheeks are flushed, and your breathing is erratic. The way you’re squeezing your thighs together as if to pretend that ache isn’t stirring in there for me. The way you keep sucking on your bottom lip and staring at me with those needy, pretty eyes,” he coaxes, leaning into you again as he runs his hot tongue over the shell of your ear.

And fuck, does it feel good.

“You want it, baby. Give in. Let me fix that throbbing ache in that pretty pussy of yours. Let me turn this good little angel into a bad little devil,” he growls, making a wave of slick run down your center as you choke on a moan. He only laughs at your needy response, your middle completely full of warmth now from his daring actions and smoldering words.

When he finally pulls back, you ask the one question that keeps ringing in your mind. “What’s in it for you?” you ask with the cock of your eyebrow, chin jutting out as you wait for an obnoxious answer that any other man would give you.

“Only the pleasure of knowing I took care of you,” he smirks, eyes glazing over at you with hunger in his deep voice.

“What? You’re not gonna make me get on my knees and give you a blowjob like any other guy would?” you ask with the taste of metallic in your throat, bitter and stale as you swallow it back down. That’s what any other man would do. No one’s ever asked what you wanted, only what they needed. Sick fucks.

“No,” he answers honestly.

“No?” you ask with bewildered eyes.

“No. I’m not other guys, sweetheart,” he states simply, the hunger still there in his dark eyes as his chest rises and falls in waves. He’s looking at you with so much intent in his eyes that it makes you dizzy.

“So, what do you say? Want me to make you feel good?” he asks as he licks his lower lip seductively. The sight about knocks you out of your chair.

“I-uh. I… need a moment. Where are the bathrooms?” you ask hurriedly as you stand up from the bar stool, pulling your short dress down over your thighs.

“Down that dark hall and first door on your left,” he says as he points in the direction of the bathrooms. You nod and race off, dodging a couple making out as you walk around them, eager to get to the bathroom.

You shove past some people dancing and walk as fast as your high heels can carry you. You make your way through the dim lit hallway and crash into the door, swinging it open as you step into the lavish, huge bathroom. You stop at the porcelain sink and look into the lit up mirror as you stare at your reflection.

You freeze when you see just how flushed you are. Your eyes are as wide as an owl’s and the veins in your neck are pulsing like crazy. Your lace panties are drenched, and you’re so turned on that you feel as if you’re about to explode. You need to cum, you need to stop the ache in between your thighs.

What the fuck is wrong with you? You don’t hook up with guys. This isn’t like you. But Joel… Joel is so devilishly handsome, so charming, a gentleman, a smooth talker. He practically got you off by just hovering over you and whispering dirty words into your ear. He was too much, this was too much. You should just go back home. But you want this. You want him.

You take one more long look at yourself in the mirror and sigh, hands digging into the sink as you give up completely. Fuck it. You want him, so you’ll have him.

When you open the door and leave the lit up bathroom, you about topple over as you hit something that feels like a thick brick wall. You look up and realize it’s Joel you crash into. You gawk at the way he leans up against the wall, clearly waiting for an answer from you.

“So, decide what you’re gonna do, angel?” he asks smoothly, his thick voice dripping like syrup all over you.

Fuck this. This man is a menace.

He takes a step forward and you take one back, a game of tag going on. But it’s not just any tag. No. He’s the hungry wolf, and he came to eat you alive.

“Not exactly…” you whisper, your voice caught in your throat.

He chuckles lightly as he takes another step forward and another, backing you up into the dark hallway that seems to go on for miles. “It’s simple, sweetheart. You can either leave or you can let me indulge you,” he purrs as he comes closer, chasing you like a game of cat and mouse.

“What if I don’t want to?” you ask out of breath, your voice getting choked up as you swallow down want and desire.

He clicks his tongue at you, coming in for the kill. “Now, now, sweetheart. Don’t be coy. I can smell the arousal already drippin’ from you. Can see how bad you want this with the way your eyes widen and lips part for me,” he says seductively, pupils blowing out as he takes a step forward and another one until he’s successfully backed you into the darkest corner of the hallway he can manage.

You knock into the cold black wall and gasp when he cages you in, letting his hands linger against your thighs as you feel the heat of his fingertips press into your hip bones. He leans over and presses his lips to the shell of your ear, whispering incantations into it as you fall into a dreamlike trance.

“Y’know, there’s more than one way to seduce a lady. I can teach you so many things, angel. Can make you cum in more ways than one, can make you feel things you’ve only dreamt about,” he whispers, letting one of his hands run up the side of your thigh, gradually lifting your dress as he teases you with his hot breath hitting your ear.

“Yeah?” you ask audibly, your own voice betraying you as you give in to his coaxing.

“Mmmm. Yeah, that’s right. Ya want it, angel? Want me to show you what I’m talkin’ about?” he asks as he blows gently in your ear, making slick pool in your center as a whine gets caught in your throat.

“Mhm,” you choke out while holding in a moan.

“Say it. Say it,” he purrs out, the soft lilt of his voice hitting the back of your spine as tingles start to pour down your body. “Pretty, pretty please. Need to hear you say it,” he whispers, his hot breath breathing down your neck like a sauna you want to jump head first into.

“Yes, yes. Want you to show me,” you plead, your voice needy with want.

“Gotta say please first,” he teases as he spreads your legs apart and places his leg in between yours, hiking his knee up to brush against your clothed folds. You whine at the action.

“Please, Joel. Pleaseeee,” you beg.

“Good girl,” he praises as he lifts the skirt of your dress, cupping his hand over your sex as you writhe in his grasp. He smirks at you and pushes the lace to the side, freeing your wet pussy as the cold air hits it, making you bite your lip in response.

He slides two calloused fingers through your wet folds, gliding down lower as he sinks them inside your dripping hole. You moan at the feeling.

“Christ. You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, angel,” he groans, hooking them up to that sweet spongy spot that makes you see stars. You choke on a moan as you clench around him.

“Ahh, there it is. There’s that sweet spot,” he purrs as he goes in knuckles deep into your wetness. He gently slides his digits out and drags his covered fingers up, up, up, as they find your clit and run slow, meticulous circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” you moan out as you grab the front of his shirt and moan into his ear, digging your fingers into the cotton material as you hold on for dear life.

“That’s right, angel. Let me hear you, that’s a good girl,” he praises. He takes the two drenched fingers that were just inside you and pop them in his mouth, sucking off all the slick that covers his large digits. Your jaw drops at the sight.

“God, you taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he groans as he shifts his leg in between yours again, bending it just slightly as he cages you in again.

The room is hot, humid, loud, and you’re fully aware that anyone could walk down here and see you fully on display as Joel has his way with you. But you don’t care, don’t say anything about it. You just want him.

Him, him, him.

“Now, sweetheart. Gonna need you to do something for me. Call this lesson one on ways to get you off,” he instructs as he digs his hands into your hips and pulls you forward to where you’re level with his muscled thigh. “Want ya to ride me, angel,” he says, voice gravelly and hot in your ear.

“You want me to… ride you? How?” you ask with your brows knitted together.

“On my thigh, sweetheart. C’mon. Put that pretty pussy on my thigh. Want you to cover my jeans, baby. Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” he coaxes, dragging your hips forward until you’re resting your center on his clothed thigh.

“Oh,” you respond as he slowly grinds your hips into his jeans, showing you exactly what he wants you to do. He lets go and lets you set the pace, taking control as your clit drags against the rough material, catching on the most sensitive areas as you pull him closer and dig your nails into his shirt, stifling out a moan as you move up and down, up and down. Feeling the building pressure low in your stomach as you choke on another moan.

“There ya go, that’s a good girl. Ride me just like that, angel. Doin’ so good,” he praises as you feel just how turned on he’s getting. The bulge is tight around his zipper, and you can see just how big and thick he is underneath the dark denim.

Fuck. You want him, you want him so fucking bad but you’ll have to wait because right now you can’t focus on anything but your building orgasm. It’s so… it’s sooo. Oh.

You rub your aching clit against the curve of his large thigh, grinding into him as you hit that spot again and again as you rut down into him even more, gripping the edge of his shirt so tight that you swear you’re about to rip it off him.

“Joellll, it feels good,” you moan with ragged breaths as he leans down and licks the shell of your ear, whispering dirty thoughts as his hot breath runs down the base of your neck, making you sweat against his large form.

“Yeah? Just like that, angel. Bein’ such a fuckin’ good girl,” he praises with a low, gravelly voice as it consumes you whole, sending more slick down his jeans as you continuously ruin his denim.

You moan again at the praise. This is so hot, he’s so hot. And he’s so good with his words. He could sweet talk you all night long just like this if he wanted to.

“You like that, huh? Like bein’ told how good of a girl you’re bein’,” he smirks, dragging his lips over your jaw as you smell his woodsy, whiskey scent all over you. You want to taste it, drink it up till you’re drunk on him, suffocate on his intoxicating scent as it spirals you into a pit of warmth.

“Yes, yes,” you whine as he presses his thigh deeper into your center, feeling the wave of pleasure take over as you’re right there. So close, but not quite there. Almost, almost.

“C’mon, angel. Be a good girl and cum for me. Wanna see you coat my thigh with your sweet cum,” he growls, lowering his hands to your ass as he squeezes and presses your hips forward, rocking into his leg as you ride the pleasure out, feel that building release about to break.

He drops his plush lips against your neck and sucks just above your collarbone, right against the sensitive spot that drives you crazy as you moan against his lips on your skin. You feel the smirk grow on his lips as a low groan comes from his mouth as he bites down again, feeding your raw adrenaline that chases your pleasure.

The blaring music and chanting crowd disappears from the room, becoming muddled as you focus on what’s in front of you, the strong arms that grip you and clench you down to his thigh, the dark eyes that envelop you as you slide deeper and deeper into a dreamlike state. You can’t hear anything, can’t feel anything other than your ragged moans, Joel’s labored breathing, the feel of his denim against your throbbing bundle of nerves, the calloused fingers that tease the back of your thighs, the hot breath that blows down your neck as he crowds your space. It’s just you and Joel, nothing else matters. Nothing else but this. Whatever this may be.

You jar forward, catching your clit on a wrinkle as it tugs at you, screaming your name to let go. Let go, let go. You can feel the white hot heat take hold of you, feel it slowly sliding down your center as your insides flutter and clench around nothing. You’re about to cum, about to release your heat all over him. And he knows. He knows.

“Don’t be shy, angel. Let me have it. Cum for me,” he growls dominantly, wrapping his hands tight around your waist as he pushes you down deep against the denim covering his thighs, pressing your throbbing clit at just the right spot as you feel yourself let go.

You dig your fingers into the collar of his shirt and press your face against the crook of his neck as you cum hard, feeling the slick spill out of you as you tense up over his thigh, squeezing your fingers around him as you moan his name loudly into his ear, hearing your breath hitch as he hums in approval.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Say my name. Yeah, just like that. There ya go,” he praises as he rocks you gently against his thigh, making sure you get every ounce of cum out of your dripping pussy.

You take a minute to come back down to earth, back to where you don’t hear the ringing in your ears, where you don’t see the bright lights covering your vision anymore. He slowly lets his hands loosen around your waist, gently leaning you back against the wall as he slides you off his thigh, covering your soaked folds with your ruined panties as he sets them back in place against your center. You wince as his fingers brush up over your sensitive clit and let him pull your skirt back down over your thighs.

He takes a step back and brushes his fingers against the damp stain on his jeans, slowly bringing them up to his mouth as he sucks his thick digits into his mouth, lapping up your slick as he stares straight at you with blown out pupils, making you gawk at the sight.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, angel. Goddamn.” He curses again under his breath and drops them to his side as he sticks them deep in his pocket looking for something. Whatever he grabs, he covers it in the base of his palm, not letting you quite see what it is.

“Did you enjoy that… lesson?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up as he stares at you with wild eyes, his tousled curls a mess as sweat beads at a few of the curls pressed against his forehead.

Lesson? Does this mean there would be more?

“Mhm,” you hum out, too fucked out to give a straight answer right now as you were still stuck on the fact that this man had just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life. Not even your vibrator was a match for him. And he hadn't even put his mouth on you yet or put his cock in you. That was saying something.

He was dangerous, tempting, a bad habit you could get used to. He was trouble, a menace. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care. You wanted more, needed more from him. Just him.

It’s like he hears your thoughts, smirking up at you as he lifts your chin and brushes his calloused thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes trailing down to stare at them as if he was thinking of sinking his mouth down on you. You hold your breath, not ready for that yet. It was too soon, too intimate of a thing.

He drops his thumb from your lip and trails it against your jawline, dropping down a level so his eyes sink into yours.

Fuck, he’s hot.

“If you ever need anything and I mean anything, I’m just a phone call away.” He grabs your hand as he sticks a business card in your palm, closing your fingers over it as he brings your hand up to his mouth, brushing his lips against the back of your knuckles as you suck in a deep breath as his soft lips kiss your skin. It feels good. So good.

“Hope to see you soon, angel.” He drops your hand back to your side as he winks and smirks a devilish grin your way, turning back around as he makes his way back towards the rush of the crowd, entering the noise once more as you watch him disappear into a sea of people as his tousled curls get pulled into the bodies, leaving you standing in shock in the dark alone.

You uncurl your fingers and run them along the edge of the glossy white business card. You turn it over and read it once, twice, three times as your eyes widen. You read it once more to make sure your eyes don’t deceive you, but you only see the same thing sprawled across the card each time. It reads Joel Miller: Owner of Club Inferno. His number sits above the words, leaving you breathless as you realize just who you were talking to earlier. Who you were complaining to earlier.

Holy shit. Joel was the club owner?!

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You were in trouble. You were in so much fucking trouble. How would you show your face here again? You wouldn’t. Unless…. unless you decided to come back for more. And you wanted more with him.

You take a deep breath and lean against the cold wall, trying to get ahold of yourself as you rethink everything that had happened tonight. The drinks, the conversations, the flirting, the fucking part where he made you cum while he pressed you against his strong, muscular body.

As you close your eyes for a second and swallow down your orgasmic high from minutes ago, you slowly open them back up and come to terms with yourself. You can’t see yourself not coming back here and not letting him give you another lesson…

You need it, need him. You’d never had a man make you feel so bold, so sexy before in your life. And the way he was all about what felt good to you? Well it was… exhilarating. You wanted more, craved more. So you knew right then, you had to come back. For one more thrill, one more touch, one more orgasm. You’d come back… for him.

Joel Miller was going to be the fucking bane of your existence, you just knew it.

533 notes · View notes

trumpkinhotboy · 10 months

Text

I'll keep an eye on you - II

pairing: jacob black x reader

type: not requested

genre: bit angsty and fluffy

warnings: none

word count: 3400

requests: open! for twilight wolfpack, narnia, heartstopper

a/n: hope you enjoy this lil part 2 !! also I really want to thank @tgarrett26 for helping me with this fic (you are awesome) + they are the reason there is even a pt.2 hehe

part I part III

*gif is not mine

summary: After one night of respite, the reader confronts the day to realize the shadows haven't quite disappeared yet.

There's a timid sunbeam lighting up your cozy little room. Nothing scary or menacing in view. You look over to your nightstand with barely opened eyes to see your mushroom light still on. The clock on your desk shines the time. 7:00am.

7am?!

You sit straight up, immediately noticing the big dent on the left side of your bed. Yes, of course, Jacob came in last night. Your cheeks flush with the thought of having slept so soundly next to the heaping mountain of muscles that is your friend. You feel so confused and well-rested. For the first time in a few weeks, you awoke calmly. This might have been the best night of sleep of your whole damn life, and it's 7:00am! You managed to wake up before your alarm. You wouldn't have to be rushing to school for once. You were usually only able to fall asleep when the sun started shining and chased away the threatening shadows of the night. So, being late to school was a recurring occurrence for you. For once, your father wouldn't have to come in to try and wake you up. You were pushing away your blankets to get up when there was a knock on your door before it slowly cracked open.

"Sweetheart, time to wake up. Don't want to be late for sch-"

Your father's traits lifted up in surprise, and honestly, you couldn’t really blame the man. You didn't keep track of all the mornings he found you all tangled up in your blankets, hair sprawled everywhere like a bird's nest, saliva drooling down your chin.

"Did you sleep well?"

You nodded eagerly, a sincere smile spreading on your lips. Charlie seemed incredibly thrilled by that piece of news. He was no stranger to the nightmares haunting your nights and was brokenhearted to see you so tired and on edge all the time.

"Well, then. Better get down and eat breakfast before you head to school." He gave you a timid smile before softly closing your door.

You had your first breakfast with your dad in a long time. He was particularly chirpy, and you kept catching his relieved gaze. You left for school on time and had a really great day. You felt awake and energized. Participating in class and your little social circle once again felt like a rush. Your efforts were welcomed with gigantic smiles from your teachers and friends. For a second, you thought the weeks of anguish and terror might finally be behind you. Maybe a night with Jacob had been the only thing you needed to put this whole thing behind you. However, as the sun went down and shadows stretched on the ground, you got more flinchy and twitchy. Once more, you turned at every odd sound, looking over your shoulder as you left the school grounds. You almost ran to your car, locking all the doors, and left a trail of dust with how fast you headed back home on the powdery roads of Forks.

Dinner with your father was much more somber than the breakfast you shared this morning. You felt like a dagger to your heart, his disappointment when he saw you jump as he caught you by surprise in the kitchen. You usually were always careful about hiding your internal conflict from Charlie. Yet the frustration you felt tonight weighed much more than the want to hide everything from him.

Once dinner was over, you climbed the stairs with heavy steps, feeling the dread in your body get worse the closer you got to your bedroom. You opened the door to find a space very different than the one you had left when you awoke this morning. Your still unmade bed didn't feel so inviting tonight. Long gone were the rays of sunshine that scared the shadows away. The room you faced was now dark and gloomy. Nothing about it felt safe or secure.

You rushed in to turn on your mushroom light and sat on your bed, trying to summon all your courage to breathe calmly.

It's over now. Nightmares are just that. They aren't real. I'm safe now.

No matter how much you would repeat it, those words felt empty and fake. You got up, put your pajamas on, and as you were ready to get in bed, you noticed a piece of clothing jutting out from under one of the pillows. You lifted it up to find the T-shirt you lent to Jacob. He didn't keep it. He left your house shirtless so you could keep the stupid piece of clothing. You grabbed it and held it up to your nose. Immediately, your senses were overpowered by his woodsy scent. You fell to your bed, shirt still pressed on your face as you let a deep sigh leave your lungs.

Grabbing your phone on the night table, you hesitated. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard before you closed the device and threw it away.

The clock had just struck midnight when you heard something scratching outside. You almost had a heart attack when you saw Jacob hanging onto your window, motioning for you to open it.

"Jacob Black. What the hell are you doing? Do you want to kill me?!"

Your tall friend let out a deep chuckle as he swiftly stepped into your room without making a noise. His gaze fell onto the fort you had built yourself. There were pillows and blankets lined all around your bed, a very feeble attempt at a barrier. The tv screen was paused on one of your favorite movie. He gave you a worried look and took a second to really take in the state you were in. You didn't look like the relaxed girl he had, reluctantly, left in a peaceful slumber this morning.

"What?" you defensively crossed your arms on your chest, already sensing where this conversation would be going.

"What are you doing?" he quietly asked, his head slightly leaning on one side.

"I was watching a movie."

You immediately saw a shadow pass in his dark eyes and felt a familiar pain ring in your chest. You couldn't live with disappointing both your father and Jacob. Worse, you couldn't live with the pity in their eyes. If only the bad dreams could stay away.

"What are you doing," you finally asked, a bit more roughly than you had intended.

He hesitated, sensing you had been offended in some way. "I just did a quick run around the perimeter, but then I saw the light open and just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Your expression softened at the concern painted on his handsome face. Fear did make you more on edge, but you knew Jacob had done nothing to deserve that anger. You sighed before plopping down on your bed.

"That's very nice of you, but I am okay. I just didn't feel tired yet."

You felt adamant about telling him of the return of the paranoia. You were already so disappointed in yourself. You couldn't even muster the bravery to be in your room alone at night. What would it even do if you told him the truth? It felt so shameful to ask again for his help, to ask him to watch over you while you were sleeping. Just because, like a child, you were afraid of the dark and the beasts it hid. You were instantly relieved when he gave you a suspicious glance as if he might believe your lie. You gave him your best smile, trying to prove how relaxed you were. You only wanted to chase the worries away from his chocolate eyes.

That could have worked if only the sound of your house creaking under a strong gust of wind and a branch scratching on your window hadn't made you flinch so damn hard.

Jacob's gaze hardened over your tense figure. You expected him to make a comment, to confront you. As you waited anxiously for the ax to drop, he finally walked over to your bed, sat, and pointed to your television.

"May I join you then?"

You initiated him to one of your best comfort movies. It required absolutely no brain power and just helped you feel better. Always a good player, Jake obliged and even seemed to enjoy it. When you were done, you spent another hour just chatting about nothing and everything. You tried hiding your clock from his sight and hoped he wouldn't notice time flying away, but sadly, there wasn't much your figure could hide from his wolfish sight.

"It's getting late. I should probably go," He muttered after an hour of mindless chatting. His dark eyes fixed on your features, you faced each other, forearms tucked under your head while you lay on your side. You couldn't help your shoulders and jaw from tensing up at his words. The happiness and carelessness he had brought you vanished as if it never occurred. Fear crept up in your belly at the thought of being alone in the dark again.

You gave him a tight smile as you nodded. He hesitantly got up, giving you another weird look. You barely registered it, too focused on avoiding falling into a panicked state. He walked to the window, and as you thought he was about to leave, he turned around on a whim.

"I really don't understand you. Even in this state, you won't ask for my help?"

His outburst surprised you and unintentionally made you recoil at the swift motion. He sighed deeply, "Please don't look at me like this. I want to understand. Why don't you want my help?" he repeated, annoyance rippling in waves from his body.

"I- I'm not sure what you're talking about," you responded, determined to hang on to the shred of dignity you had left.

He let out a sarcastic laugh. It was dry and reeked of disdain towards this fluke you were trying to fool him with. "Stop playing Y/n. You reek of fear."

His words were like a punch in the gut. You felt shame hitting you as you realized how stupid you had been.

"See? Your reaction only confirms what I already knew. What I don't understand is why you insist on facing this alone. You can always call me, and I will always come through for you. Have I not proven that?"

"You did, but it's not your responsibility to fix me. To fix this."

"Not my responsibility?" he scoffed. He turned around while dragging his hand through his hair. He was a mix of so many emotions you couldn't pinpoint what was brewing in his brain. He stayed silent for so long that you thought he would leave you like this. You were about to add something when he raised his voice. "I would give everything to go back to that night. To be there by your side. Maybe you wouldn't have to go through that, or at least I would have been the one to rip to shreds that bloodsucker." Flames of rage danced in his eyes while you stood speechless, gawking at him.

You were at a loss for words. You had seen Jake in many different states in your friendship, but he never looked so conflicted. Anger and sadness seemed to be battling out the right to overpower him. For a rare moment, he looked incredibly vulnerable. He was back to being that innocent teenager you had always known. You approached, unsure whether that would make him lash out, but he stayed put, his eyes fixed on the ground. You knew Jacob felt responsible for what happened to you. What you didn't know is that he tortured himself with it. Your heart ached at the thought, and any frustration you had felt up to this point melted.

Softly, you grabbed his hand. "Jacob, look at me."

When he finally turned around and lifted his gaze, tears hung on to the line of his long lashes. The sight of it made your throat close up.

"Why won't you let me care for you," he whispered, inches from you.

His gaze was so deep and carried a tsunami of emotions. Without even thinking about it, you grabbed his face. Both of your hands cradled his soft and warm skin. You saw goosebumps creep up his muscled arms, mirroring the one on yours. Bringing his forehead to your own, you took a deep breath.

"I don't want to be a burden."

Saying the words that'd been ringing in your head for so long felt almost exhilarating while also being incredibly relieving. Contrary to the belief of your messed up head, the world didn't end or break in two once the thought left your lips.

"I've always thought you were such an incredible person and couldn't help but always want to be better for you. Ever since you phased, that feeling only got more intense. You've evolved so much in the past few months, and I'm still old me. When I got attacked, it was the most horrible experience of my life, but it also reinforced that concept. I couldn't even walk from yours to Emily's cabin without being attacked. The boys had to risk their lives to save me. I didn't even get one scratch, and still, I'm afraid of the dark. I'm afraid to sleep alone. I'm afraid if I let my guard down for one second... it'll happen again. Which means that I'll either die or be a burden for you guys once more because I can't even defend myself against something like that. You're already so good to me. I don't want to add this to your list of things to worry about."

Your eyes stayed closed even after you finished and controlled your breathing again. Saying it aloud was incredible, but to open your eyes to face his reaction felt nerve-racking. You were about to when a strong pair of arms wrapped around you.

"You are not and will never be a burden to me." His tone was soft and felt a little strangled. In your dimly lit little room, while the rest of the world was in a peaceful slumber, Jacob's words felt like the only thing that mattered.

He pulled back after a moment but still held you close. "I don't know what gave you the impression that you were a burden. If it ever was something I did, I want to apologize."

"I remember so vividly the look on your face when the boys brought me back to the cabin. You had the same disappointed expression as you have just now. I promise I'm trying to heal as fast I can, but this... this is harder than I thought it would be."

Confusion was now the only emotion on his face, clear as day. "Disappointed? Y/n, I never was disappointed. It was the worst, terrifying, shit your pants kind of fear I've ever felt. It's agony to know you're so ridden with fear. I was disappointed to learn that tonight was still hard for you, not because I think you're not healing fast enough, but because I hoped I finally helped you feel better. I feel so bad you have to live with these memories for your whole life. I just wish I could make them disappear."

That's when you understood the slim difference between disappointment and defeat. One was channeled towards you, and the other wasn't. For Jacob, it had always been directed at himself.

"Jacob, you're the only one who makes me breathe a little easier. You're the only reason I slept soundly last night." A new light illuminated his eyes. You steadied yourself before you continued, your tone slightly hushed. "You've always had that specific calming effect on me. You're the only person who makes things better for me. Ever since we were kids. I have always felt safe with you. You're like my personal haven."

It felt like a big thing to say, but you wanted that sadness to leave his face. You wanted his eyes to be filled with light again, and somehow, it felt right to tell him about all this. He spent so much time worrying about everything and everyone. He deserved to know how appreciated he was. He deserved to know what he meant to you.

Emotion thickened the air. So much so that it felt like you couldn't breathe just right. Your hands slid from his cheeks delicately. You placed one at the nape of his neck while the other grabbed the top of his hair. "Jake, I don't think you even understand how much you mean to me."

Time stood still for a moment. Your eyes focused on each other, and the rest of the world ceased to exist.

"Y/n, I-" his eyes held something heavier. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something before deciding better of it. It almost looked like it cost him to try and get the words out. He gave up in a huff, and whatever was in his gaze, whatever he thought about, vanished. Some part of you wanted to push him, to ask, but tonight had been a rollercoaster enough. You could let it go for now. He pulled you in for another hug before releasing you a little.

"So, now that we've established that you are not a burden." he started softly.

"And that this is in no way your fault," you added with a grin.

He rolled his eyes, "Uhm. Can you tell me what you actually need? I can stay here with you if you want."

You felt a pang of your old fears scratch at your heart, but you let them all go in one breath. "I would very much like that."

You tucked yourselves in bed for the second night in a row. You hesitated to turn off the light, but always so observant, Jacob assured you it didn't bother him to keep it open. You lay side by side in silence. You were focused on becoming familiar with the ordinary and hazardous sounds an old house made at night when Jacob started to whisper.

"I know you think you aren't as fearless as us, but I can assure you everyone in our tribe thinks you are the bravest person they've ever met. Not many people would feel comfortable hanging out with a bunch of new werewolves."

"Brave or totally crazy," you added while making a wicked-looking face. His eyes disappeared in his bright smile, and you wished you could snap a picture of it.

"No, but really, you're the only one who stayed by my side all throughout my phasing process. No matter how dangerous it was for you. If that's not the definition of bravery, I don't know what is." He turned pensive again while his gaze darkened.

You unwillingly recalled the phasing process of Jacob. All the terrible memories flashed before your eyes. His screams of pain still rang in your ears. You remember distinctly every time you wished to take his place. If you could have taken away some of his pain, you would have in an instant. The least you could do was stay by his side no matter what. You had to fight with Billy and the rest of the pack, but in the end, even they couldn't keep you away. No one could have.

You slid into his arms, and his body tensed under the new touch before quickly relaxing to envelop you in a tight embrace.

"I would never leave you alone," you mumbled in his chest. "I know you like to have this strong and impressive appearance, but inside, you're still the same little Jacob I've always known. I know you need me."

You lightly pressed your lips onto his chest and nuzzled farther into him. Fireworks were exploding in the boy's chest as he returned the gesture with a kiss on your head.

"And Jake?"

"Uhm?"

"Don't think I didn't notice you wanted to tell me something important earlier. For tonight, it's okay, but we'll have to talk about that."

#ilya writes #jacob black #jacob black fic #jacob black blurb #jacob black x reader #jacob black x y/n #twilight #twilight au #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #jacob black fluff #fluff #fluffy #werewolves #shapeshifters #twilight wolfpack

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stuniolvs · 8 months

Text

sick + recording

hey guys this is from my old wattpad so its no that great but please leave requests!!

warning!! use of y/n

chris and his brothers are currently recording, i just wanted to stay at home because i'm not feeling very well, i have a pounding headache and stuffy nose. its 1:42 am and they're still recording.

chris

hey baby how are you doing?

1:44am

y/n

im okay i just wanna see you.

1:44am

chris

do you want us to pick you up? we're almost done

recording and were gonna go to target,

i can stay in the car with you, i miss you.

1:45am

"chris!" chris' head shoots up hearing a yell from his brother, nick.

"get the fuck off your phone!" he shouts. chris glances down at his phone seeing a "yes please, if you can" from y/n "nick, im texting y/n. matt, can we pick her up? she's not feeling very well" the boy asked.

"sure" he earned a-what seemed to be-happy mumble from his brother.

i sighed as i grew more stuffy and my head getting more, and more heavy. i'm currently re-watching the season of Rupal's Drag Race that nick was on to catch up with him. my phone dinged as i glanced down at it, i received a "on the way!! see you soon baby" from chris. i softly smiled missing my boyfriend. i unpaused the tv but was soon cut off buy the sound of my ringtone, i turned off the tv and saw "NICK" on my screen. i clicked the green answer button and my ears were immediately filled with nicks voice "hey babe, were outside." he mentioned "okay ill be out there in a second nick" i replied hanging up.

nick grimaces at the sound of your voice "holy shit," he starts "she sounds so sick" right as he finishes his thought the door next to him opens revealing you, in chris' hoodie and leggings. chris smiles before butting in "hey gorgeous" "hey baby" she replies seeing chris' hand snake through the gap of the headrest reaching down for her hand, she notices and grabs his hand softly playing with his fingers.

when they park in the target parking lot matt and nick leave the car and so does y/n.

2:00am

i get out of the car, chris' eyes following me the whole time. i open his door and straddle his lap.

chris receives the message and shuts the door behind me. i wrap my arms loosely loosely around his neck and he wraps his arms tightly around my waist. i look up at chris and he makes eye contact with me.

my eyes dart all over his face from his lips, to his backwards hat, to the hair sticking out of it, to his eyebrows, to his nose, landing on his ocean blue eyes. "you're so gorgeous chris."

i watch as a blush covers from his cheeks all the way down to his neck. one of his hands sneaks up to my cheek before pulling me into a kiss. i kiss him back moving my hands to the curls at the nape of his neck softly pulling at the curls, until i realize- i pull back quickly

"chris! im sick you dumb fuck!" i whisper yell slightly pushing him. "i dont care, i would rather kiss you" he states looking into your eyes.

"go to sleep baby" he suggests. i stuff my head into his chest, he softly plays with my hair placing kisses on my temple down to my collar bone. "goodnight y/n i love you so much." chris whispers "goodnight. i love you baby" i reply on the verge of sleep.

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noneorother · 11 months

Text

Wait, the street is wet *almost* ALL THE TIME? What is happening.

@thesherrinfordfacility shared a speculation here on the fact that at the end of S2 Episode 4, the ground is still pretty wet when Aziraphale parks the car. If we follow the logic presented in the show, that means that Crowley made a heavy downpour in the afternoon, and 12-ish hours later at 6:00am when Aziraphale parks the car coming back from Edinburgh, the streets are still very wet.

This was before I read the Rob Wilkins clue about the Bentley.

Want to know what I think is always visible and in the same frame when someone is driving the Bentley? THE STREET. The street is wet at the beginning of S2E3 in the OPENING SHOT. We get two wides after Gabriel drinks cocoa, and they are both drying after being wet. A whole 30 minutes before Crowley does the rainstorm.

But wait. There's more. Look at the street in Episode 1

This is a very wet street in full sunshine. But a few hours later when Crowley refuses to help Aziraphale and gets mad we have an almost dry street. It's raining at the 2/3 mark of episode 1 (at night) because the Bentley's windows have raindrops on them, and in the wide the pavement is wet. But then when Crowley drives through London to go back to Aziraphale, the pavement is BONE DRY

And then he parks in SOHO before turning the lights back on for Nina and Maggie and what do we have? Wet street again. But wait. There's even more. Look at the street in Episode 2 Here's the wide shot right before Shax teleports into the Bentley, and then right after when Crowley drives away.

It was raining while they were talking (and the light has changed)! Where'd all the wet go?

The archangels arrive to talk about the giant miracle and the f*cking street is wet again.

Looks like it's drying out again by the time they talk about "their car" at the end of the episode, but still full sun with some puddles.

So now we're right back to the street being wet at the beginning of S2E3 You want to know the only time so far the street is not wet AT ALL in episode 3? RIGHT BEFORE THE AWNING OF A NEW AGE.

EVEN IN EDINBURGH in S2E3. It's pretty clear that Aziraphale parking the car and walking into the Resurrectionist happens at two different times because the sidewalk is WET in the second shot.

Oh hey would you look at that BONE DRY STREET at the beginning of S2E5.

By the time we get to the ball though,

Say hello to my little friend. No not Mrs. Cheng, the wet street! Shax's demon invasion at the end of episode 5 though. You could use that sidewalk as sandpaper. So dry.

Epidsode 6 is the only consistently wet street we've seen all season.

And now I would like to go somewhere padded and scream, because I. am. loosing. it.

#good omens meta #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens season two #good omens season 2 #go meta #what even is reality anymore

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tazzertopia · 1 year

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phantom troupe: do they snore?

this idea for phantom troupe hcs came to me randomly at 2:00am last night so enjoy xoxo

chrollo

-probably not unexpected but not really

-he’s generally a super quiet sleeper

-the loudest he ever is in his sleep is breathing loudly on occasion

-his lack of snoring is most likely attributed by the fact he’s a very light sleeper

-he’s one of those bitches who will wake up because the whistling of the wind was slightly louder than usual

uvogin

-his ass sounds like a heavy metal concert when he sleeps

-his snores are earth-shaking. ear-splitting. pain-inducing.

-his snores single handedly contribute to noise pollution

-think of how loud your dad snores and x1000

-if the troupe members have to share a room at any point during a mission, they will throw a whole rock paper scissors tournament to see who’s taking one for the team and sacrificing their sleep (it’s usually nobunaga)

-because covering his mouth with a sock doesn’t stop the snoring, the troupe have an emergency weighted blanket on standby

-the complete opposite of chrollo, this man could sleep in an active war zone and and not budge an inch (in other words you cannot wake his ass up by force to get him to stop snoring so the only option is to wait it out or sleep somewhere else)

pakunoda

-the most silent sleeper ever

-not even a peep from miss pakunoda

-the ideal person to share a bed with. she doesn’t snore, her breathing is inaudible and she’s extremely still

-almost unnerving in a way bc she looks dead when she sleeps

-if you were to share a bed with her you’d probably spend most of the night checking her pulse to ensure she is actually alive and breathing

phinks

-he’s one of those people who when he snores the buildup is super loud but he exhales quietly (i hope that makes sense)

-ljke the buildup is super dragged out like hhhHhhhhhhUUUHHHUUUH but the exhale is just hoooooooo !!

-idk how to express snoring via text so you may have to act it out to know what i mean

-honestly this type of snoring is arguably worse than uvogin’s bc at least his is consistent whereas phinks will give you hope that he’s finally stopped snoring until it starts up again ☹️☹️😢

-he will forever deny he snores tho

feitan

-comedic ass snore

-probably snores like mimimimimimimimi zzzzzzzzz 😴💤😴💤😴💤

-he sleeps like he should be wearing a night cap and a long night gown with a candle on his bedside table

-trying not to piss yourself laughing while he’s snoring if you’re still awake is an olympic level sport

-one time shalnark recorded him while he was snoring and showed it to him (when he was down with him, he ensured the recording was eradicated from his phone)

-ik realistically he would probably be a silent sleeper but the idea of him sounding like a whole cartoon character is actually hilarious to me

shalnark

-sleep? WHAT’S THAT? 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣 (get it because he’s the tech whiz so he probably stays up all night gaming lololololol XDD)

-probably a loud ass mouth breather

-like he sounds like a broken ventilator sometimes

-he sounds like he ran a lap around mt everest before bed why is he so loud

-if you pissed him off during the day he would probably amp up the volume on his breathing to prevent you from sleeping well (now we’re both mad xx)

shizuku

-for the most part very quiet

-occasionally she will jumpscare you awake by randomly snoring out of no where

-like you’ll wake up to this loud ass noise only to realise it was just shizuku

-sometimes she’ll wake up aswell and accuse you of snoring

-aside from that pretty quiet- not as ideal to share a bed with as pakunoda but fine for the most part as long as you don’t mind surprises

nobunaga

-i feel like he’d have one of those super low growly snores ???????

-like those low, shaky ones

-the ones that kinda sound like grunts

-idk if i’m making sense so i pray i am 🙏

-they’re not that bad tho bc they’re quiet enough to not keep you awake and are low-key kinda relaxing

-if you’re gonna share a bed with anyone who snores, it’s nobunaga

machi

-another generally quiet sleeper except for occasionally sighing in her sleep

-from time to time she’ll just go like huhhhhhhhh :// and then will go back to being quiet again

-don’t bring it up the next day tho bc she WILL deny it and seem embarrassed

-you can tell when she’s having a nice dream based on how often she sighs

franklin

-surprisingly quiet

-you wouldn’t expect his oversized enormous ass to be quiet but he is

-similar to chrollo, the most you’re getting out of him is some occasionally loud breathing

-aside from that he’s a quiet sleeper

bonolenov

-i feel like bc of the holes in his body he’d probably make a whistling sound in his sleep

-like a pan flute

-not the worst tho bc like nobunaga it’s low high key relaxing

-free asmr what could be better xxx

kortopi

-quiet as hell

-are we really surprised

-sorry to the two kortopi fans out there but i can’t be bothered to think of anything to add on he’s just quiet

another tazzertopia classic 💯💯💯💯 if you like these hc posts pls give me requests (idk if the ask box is visible on my profile but do it through here or via the comments) bc these are super fun, i can also do other characters too !!! if i do more i might start doing them for other shows anyways bye xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

#hunter x hunter #hxh #phantom troupe #chrollo #phinks magcub #pakunoda #machi komacine #shizuku murasaki #feitan #shalnark #nobunaga hazama #uvogin #hxh headcanons #hxh x reader #phantom troupe brainrot is eating me alive #give me suggestions pretty please with a cherry on top xx

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botanicadrabbles · 5 months

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Hydrangeas'

Lucifer X Reader

Warning: Hanahaki, Blood mention.

Part 1 , Part 2

Word count: 1,027

Keeping it a secret was the hard part, sure you’re used to keeping things to yourself but avoiding Lucifer. The way he’d look at you with those soft eyes almost lost in desperation and longing, he wanted to talk to you multiple times but you’d turn the other way.

Now a days you barely left your room, when you did all you could hear was Charlie talking about her mother. She has every right you tell yourself, it’s not your fault you’re in this predicament.

It wasn’t her fault Lucifer refused to share what was your relationship to her. It wasn’t her fault Lucifer refused to acknowledge what you where or share measly little kisses and notions that where important to a relationship.

Over the last month you’d come to realise it wasn’t his fault either, you desperately wanted it to be. But you knew better.

Emotions where difficult, hell you barely knew how to control your own emotions. You couldn’t blame him for not knowing how to really understand emotions, you even knew why he was so distant..

The first time he loved someone it cost him everything and in the end she left. You felt stupid, guilt for thinking he didn’t want to love you.. Clearly you where paying the price.

More blood spilt from your lips, you spent most days in your bathroom now. Vomiting and becoming increasingly more pale. What used to use be small amount of petals and blood had turned into a small blossiming flower and harsher amounts of blood spilt.

You where so tired. Looking over to the alarm clock sitting where your body soap was ment to be you saw the time 3:00am. You had made a make shift bed in your bathroom, too tired to move much.

Hearing hushed whispers at your door you slowly collected yourself and dragged your heavy body across your room, it felt like you where dragging chained balls across the floor. You eyes wanting to shut.

Blanket wrapped loosely around you, you opened the door.

Angeldust…Husk… Huh…

“Hello?” you asked your voice voming out quieter and weaker than you had expected, Angel looked at you seemingly as if he had seen a ghost and for the first time you swear you can see Husk looking worried.

“Are you pregnant?” Angel asks, your eyes go wide in shock and take a moment to respond, seeing Husk look perplexed Angel had so confidently and shamelessly ask. “I don’t think so?” you asked raising an eyebrow confused. “Oh thank the heavens-...-Can you say that here?” Angel would say looking around to see if he got any confirmation.

Seeing no one else down the darkened and honestly terrifying hallway in the night you where grateful not wanting people to see you in such a condition.

“Why do you look so awful than?” Once again Angel asked so confidently as if shame just bounced off of him like a bouncy ball. You didn’t know what to really say about it all so you just shrugged, “Maybe a flu? Not to sure- could be contagious though-” you said trying to close the door.

You should have known better when Husk just pushed the door open, both of the two men walking in “Welcome in then” you said wanting to sink into the floor and allow it swallow you whole. You had no strength left to fight them as they investigated your room before finally finding their way into the bathroom where they found your secret out.

“Oh y/n/n…” Angel said pitying you, you hated that. Please anything but pity. You stomach turned more when you saw even Husk was looking at you with the same expression.

“Please just…Don’t tell anyone” You said closing your eyes, desperately wanting to just rest. They agreed, but over the course of the next few days Angel and Husk would alternate getting you food, drinks, medicine to help with the pain (in Angel’s case drugs) and any form of entertainment they could.

They didn’t want to force you to say who it was but could safely assume it wasn’t either of the because while they where there and distracting you, your symptoms seemed to lessen. They put all their free time into making sure your mind was too busy to think about who ever it was that was causing that pain.

You could here people talking outside your door a lot as if they knew something was wrong now but could always hear Husk and Angel telling them you just need some space and just going through a tough time.

It wasn’t really a bad thing.

You just wish they’d lay off on telling you about how Lucifer was bugging them for information on you. You where also surprised how they hadn’t quite figured out who it was. The one time Angel ever asked who it was, was a joke and more with the hope it wasn’t Alastor as there was no hope for that.

Angel was fixated on trying to play cupid while Husk would constantly tell him to lay off, you appreciated them and became better and better friends as this situation continued.

Another month passed and he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to see you.. You where asleep.. He was okay with that. His hand came to brush hair away from your face as he looked over you.

He admired you, to him you where art. Something to look at from a distance and not touch, he was terrified of what it could mean, the way you make him feel. He desired you so desperately but was afraid of corrupting you, changing you..Making you leave.

He didn’t notice anything, he was there one moment and gone before you could wake up. You could swear you felt him there but took it as a symptom of the Hanahaki. It was a horrible disorder it was…

That night you couldn’t go back to sleep, eventually sneaking off to Angel and Husk’s room and sleeping between the two as if they where your parents and you had, had a nightmare.

You couldn’t face Lucifer.. Not yet.

Maybe tomorrow.

#lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #x reader #angst #hanahaki

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bbgghost · 1 month

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lot to love: chapter 3

blurb: you are the nineteen year old, younger, mutant sister of Mystique. you go to Professor X's school and have been since you were young slow burn with wolverine ♡♡♡

a.n. i don't remember what the rooms are called in the mansion i tried my best thanks queens. i feel this is better than the last even if it barely mentions logan lol. also ik i just posted chapter 2 but i have time to write so why not ♡

c.w. reader gets nervous, reference to smoking in a past chapter, fighting (not with logan), mention of blood and a wound. also age-gap between reader and logan cos he is 200+ yrs old !

masterlist | tags: @white-wolf-buckaroo

You had woken up earlier. Early enough that it was before the sun had even risen. Ororo had knocked on your door at 4:00 exactly. With a deep sigh you had told her you would get up. You didn't want to disappoint so you quickly grabbed your day clothes and rushed to the communal bathrooms where you had washed your face and brushed your teeth. You considered leaving your skin in its natural blue shade, with scales and all. Instead, you made your looks as normal as possible. You almost looked like you were before you left home.

Rolling your eyes at the thought you stepped out of the bathroom and walked down the hallway and the lengthy steps till you found Logan. "Hey kid. You ready?" He asked. "Yeah... I guess." He gave you a knowing look at your response. You held his eye contact for a bit.

"Meet us down outside the training room." The Professors voice echoed in your heads. Logan coughed and broke eye contact before walking past you. You blinked before turning and following him down the hall and into another room.

"Once you enter the facility, this will all be about you Y/N." The Professor said firmly. You nodded and listened even more attentively if possible. "As soon as you land, you'll be on your own. All you will need to get is the files labelled 'Lehnsherr, Eric' and 'Darkholme, Raven'." You clenched your jaw at the mention of your sisters name.

"Right..." You affirmed. Both Logan and Ororo looked at you concerned. "After that, you just need to walk out the front door and there should be a car waiting for you infront of the lobby." He finished his instructions and you took that as indication to get moving. Ororo guided you into another room where a suit awaited you. "I'll leave you to it." She said kindly.

You showed her a brief smile before turning back to the suit. You heard the click of the door as she shut it, and you began stripping. Slipping on the suit wasn't as difficult as you thought it would have been. The mostly black suit, with its small yellow accents looked so familiar to you. You pulled you hair out from under it and grimaced at the sight of yourself. It fit against your body perfectly, it just didn't feel like it belonged to you.

Coming out of the room, you saw Logan take a deep gulp as he gave you a once over. Ororo gave you a sweet smile as you all boarded the jet. Sitting in the seat behind Logan and Ororo, you strapped yourself in and stared ahead of you. After a couple buttons pressed by the lady infront of you, the plane you were now defintely trapped in begin to lift in the air. You clenched your jaw tightly, gulped and dug your nails into your palm. Hearing your teeth grit against each other, Logan turned and gave you a harsh, concerned look.

"You're alright kid." He said. God, as if that was gonna do fuck-all! You ignored him, but once you got to a steady pace, you managed to calm yourself down. Taking deep breaths you looked out the large expanse of the window. Logan turned to you again. He glanced at your heaving breasts, then your face before whipping his head back to the front. He prayed you hadn't caught him and tried his best to suppress the feeling brewing in his chest.

After about twenty minutes of cruising, you had begun your descent. It was now 6:00am, and you were still pretty tired. Flashes of last night crossed your mind as you though about everything he said to you. And how you had shared that cigarette, even if only for a second. You were truly day dreaming at this point. Imaging what else he could've done if he hadn't stopped it there and lit his own. He had tasted your lipgloss. The thought of that made your heart race even faster.

Logan had looked at you without you noticing. You had this dazed expression on your face, and your heart rate was going faster as the moments went on. You bit your lip softly. He didn't know if he was more grateful for the fact you weren't stressed anymore or for the sight you were giving him.

Either way, you had landed, smoothly might you add. You unbuckled yourself and moved towards the back of the jet. The large door opened and your walked down it to see a sleek, black BMW sitting on the dirtroad next to the field you had landed on. "Oh, hell yeah." You exclaimed, quickly walking toards it. You ran your hands along the rims of the window, aweing at how modern it looked. Ororo laughed at your excitement and came up beside you, handing over the keys. "Don't do anything too crazy." She said with a smile.

"Thanks." You breathed before unlocking the car and hopping in. Once in you turned on the radio and rolled down the window. "You seem alot happier now." Logan said as he leaned into the opening you had provided. "Yeah, I am!" You said as you put the keys in the ignition. "Okay kid. Stay safe." He told you before moving backwards and tapping the boot of the car.

You had begun driving before they could remind you of the key things of the mission. Turning on the radio, you heard the familiar tunes of some old Elvis song. You were in some old Western town on the outskirts of Washington, so its only made sense. You drove along the dirt roads until they turned to tar, and you continued. You'd only ever driven a few cars in the past couple of years, and they had only ever been with Ororo. You had to say though, this was the coolest one yet.

"In 500m you will arrive at your destination." said the robotic voice of the GPS. You took that as a queue and shape-shift into the man you were pretending to be. When you arrived, you parked in a random spot and grabbed the breif-case in the passanger seat.

You stepped out of the car and walked towards the front of the building. The security guards scanned your prints before you walked into the lobby. People were buzzing everywhere, they were all dressed as official as you and most of them had phones to their ears. You gulped down any nerves you had before walking towards the elevator. Once you got in there, you looked at the many labels for each level.

You had decided that Case Management was probably the most suiting one. Somehow, despite the buzz and noise in the lobby, there was only one other person in their with you. He stared at his phone the entire time, but got out on the same floor as you.

"Level 10. Case Management."

As soon as you stepped out you saw the rows and rows of files that adorned each shelf. On the left of the shelves there were about ten desks. You walked over to one with your name and placed your breif-case on top of it. You sat down for a moment, pretending to work on something in a note pad, before standing up. You made a beeline towards the rows labed 'S' and after retreiving Magneto's file made your way over to the 'D'. Opening the draw you found your sisters. You opened it and skimmed over the different information that they had on file.

Siblings: Darkholme, Y/N - F, 19 years of age, assumed to have similar powers and therefore of a similar level of threat.

You rolled your eyes before taking your two files and stuffing them in your suit jacket pocket. You walked back to the elevator and waited for the ding of the doors.

When you did hear them, you looked up. There stood a man, dressed formally, but when you looked him in the eyes you knew there was something wrong. Oh god, you thought. An immediate look of rage overtook the mans face as he lunged at you. Quickly, you dodged the attack and stood tall again. He stood up and stared at you madder than before and threw a punch your way. "Ugh! Raven!" You screamed, touching your now bloody cheek.

"Shut up!" She growled, before shoving you against the back of the elevator. You kneed her in the gut and watched her keel over. You didn't want to have to do this. You really didn't. But you needed to get the hell out of there. So you shoved her out of the doors way before pressing the close button. You watched her run to the doors and try to open them as they closed. The last thing you got from her was a loud scream, "No!"

You're heart racing in the silent elevator, you touched the cheek she had punched again. Taking your hand back, you looked at the blood covering it. You pulled out your phone before holding it up to your ear, trying to cover the mark as much as you could. Rushing out of the building and into the car, not without some concerned looks from strangers, you finally took a breath.

You turned to see your sister, now in her normal form running towards your car. After screaming some profanities, you reversed before speeding out ino the busy streets of Washington. You heart wouldn't stop beating fast until the tar streets had turned to dirt and when you could see the start of the field that Ororo had landed in.

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, you could really feel the pain of being hit in the face. Popping down the sunshade, and revealing the mirror you looked into your reflection. There was swelling around the area, and a good amount of blood was dripping from the wound. You touched it so softly, yet still let out a hiss at the contact. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you took more deep breaths. You looked back at the road, and pushed the sunshade further forward till it no longer was in your way.

"Fuck me." You whisper to yourself, tears now fully going down your cheeks.

#wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan #x men

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trickphotography2 · 9 months

Text

'tis the damn season | Chapter 3

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 6.7K

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

The holidays are already going to be hard enough for Julie. Her home baking business, which had started as a fun side project, exploded after a few TikToks went viral. Just when she was getting the hang of juggling her job and business, tragedy struck. Facing her first Christmas as an orphan, the last thing Julie expected was to hear that once familiar nickname - Cece.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

Chapter 2 | Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 3

“Lookin’ good, cowboy!” Shayla called, phone held up as Jake cantered back to the barn. The mare he was riding - Starlight - tossed her head, and he couldn’t help but smile. It’d been too long since he’d been in the saddle.

“I didn’t think you’d be up,” he replied, gently tugging the reins to stop Starlight beside her.

“Your mom was vacuuming the hallway,” she shrugged. He chuckled - he’d been wondering how long Mama would let her sleep in until 10:00AM before getting her out of bed. Apparently, guest privileges lasted two days. Shay stepped back, panning the camera to follow him as he dismounted, patting the horse’s neck before taking her bridle and leading her back into the barn. When he glanced over his shoulder, she was still filming. At his raised eyebrow, she giggled. “Sorry, you’re just so fucking sexy. This is gonna get a ton of views.” Facing forward, he clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything. Leading Starlight into her stall, he removed her tack and gave her a quick brush before tossing a blanket over her back. Shayla stopped him when he moved to get a treat from the feed barrel. “Can I?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, retrieving a carrot and handing it to her. She shoved the phone into his hands and looked at him expectantly until he lifted it to film her feeding the horse. As soon as it was gone, she spun towards him and threw her arms around him, pressing her lips to his. Jake kissed her back, willing himself to feel something as her tongue traced his lips. Her hands fell to his waist, slipping into his jacket and tugging his shirt from his jeans. “Shay,” he said, catching her hands.

“Come on, Jakey,” she cooed. “I miss you.”

“I - ”

“Jacob THOMAS Seresin!” Jumping back as though he’d been scalded, he turned to see his mother standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and green eyes flashing.

“Ma’am?” he frowned, watching as her eyes shot to Shayla and her scowl deepened.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

“Ma’am?” he repeated.

“Do you. Have. Something. To tell. Me.” He glanced at Shay, who gave him a shy smile.

“Uh…”

“I’d like you to explain to me, young man, how it is right for a mother to find out that her baby is having a baby on the internet. Why did I get a text from Betty, whose daughter found it on TikTok, instead of hearing it from you? Hm?”

Jake whipped around to scowl at Shayla, stepping back from her. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I… may have dropped a hint in the last video. It was just us getting here.” He ran a hand down his face, remembering how she’d filmed herself with her hand on her stomach in the car. Turning to face his mother, she said, “Sorry to have you find out this way, but surprise! Looks like you have two grandbabies on the way!”

Taking a deep breath, his mother closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. After a moment, she squared her shoulders and pinned them with a heavy gaze. “I’m happy for you, but you need to tell your father before he finds out this way. We deserved to hear it from you directly, not from some video about you coming into our home and sneaking around with the news.”

“Yes, Ma’am. We’ll do that right now.” Jake sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Mama.” She stared at her youngest son, her face the picture of disappointment, before nodding and spinning on her heel, leaving the barn. When she was out of sight, he reached into his coat pocket to retrieve his phone.

“Ja - ”

“Stop. You’ve already made this bad enough,” he cut Shayla off while pulling up her account and looking at the newest post. She’d done a voiceover explaining that they were visiting his family to share some exciting news and had filmed herself standing behind his family. He watched as she collected eggs with his mother, when his father had taken her on a tour of the milking barn, and Ally and Will exercising one of the horses on the walker. In each clip, she had her back to them, her hand on her stomach, and winked at the camera. “Did you even ask them if they were okay with being in your video?” Jake demanded.

Her silence spoke volumes, and he glanced at the stats. It already had over ten thousand views and hundreds of likes and comments. “I’m sure they don’t - ”

“My family is off limits,” he snapped. Without another word, he stormed out of the barn. The cold air cooled his flushed face, and he pulled off the Longhorns hat he’d found in the back of his closet to run a hand through his hair. “Fuck!” he growled, throwing the cap onto the ground in a moment of frustration. After snatching it up and dusting it off, he folded the bill, slipped it into his back pocket, and headed toward the milking barn where he’d helped Pops and Will drive the herd. After swapping his shoes for wellies, he stepped inside.

“ - Alright, I’ll be there in a bit,” he heard his father say, frowning as he spoke into his phone. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” Jake glanced at Will, who raised an eyebrow.

“Everything alright?” Will asked as soon as he hung up. Bill Senior glanced at his sons, gaze lingering on Jake momentarily before nodding.

“Need to head into town for a bit. You two able to take care of all this?” he asked, motioning to the cows. Will nodded, raising an eyebrow - their father was always supervising milking, only taking a day off when their mother forced him to stay in bed sick. With a firm nod at his sons, Bill headed out.

“Sir, can… I need to tell you something,” Jake said, hurrying after him after trading a look with his brother.

“Make it quick, son.” Standing before his father, Jake suddenly felt like he was 16 again, telling him he wanted to join the Navy instead of following the family farming tradition.

“Sir… Pops…” Bill pressed his lips together and glanced at his watch. Taking a steeling breath, Jake straightened his shoulders. “Shayla’s pregnant. I…I’m going to be a father.”

The older man wasn’t expecting that. His eyebrows shot up, and his mouth fell open. The two stared at one another for a long moment before Bill smiled and pulled his son in for a hug. “Congratulations, Jacob. I’m happy for you.”

It was on the tip of Jake’s tongue to admit his fear. He was worried that he would never feel for Shay the way that Pops felt for Mama. That he would be a horrible dad. That he would screw up his kid by trying to force himself to fall in love with their mother. But instead, he simply hugged his father back, clearing his throat before saying, “Thanks.”

Julie forced herself not to turn and investigate the screeching noise, instead continuing work on her batches of buttercream frosting. Taking a deep breath, she checked the consistency. She tried not to panic at how much her oven going out was throwing off her carefully created schedule to complete the massive order for the mayor’s Christmas Eve party.

By this time, she should have already had nine pans of macarons cooling and another two baking. The morning had started normal enough - she’d taken the day off of work but was up at 4:00AM to bring her ingredients to room temperature and get through some emails. A bride she was working with for a mid-January wedding was debating her flavor choices again. Julie hoped she didn’t need to add updating a contract to the list of tasks.

The first few hours were spent prepping and portioning out her ingredients. The mayor had asked her to make 8 heart shaped cakes (one for every year they’d been in office) as well as party favors - about 300 macarons in assorted flavors in small boxes, as well as 100 cupcakes and a cookie decorating set to keep the kids entertained. With a day and a half to get everything done, it shouldn’t have been a problem, especially with the plan of getting up early and staying up late. It was her last big order before calling it for Christmas baking.

That was until her oven started acting up. It had taken forever to heat up yesterday, and the first cake had been undercooked and tasted sour. After checking her ingredients and confirming that everything was still fresh, she had a sinking feeling when her oven turned off.

A muttered curse followed a bang, and she turned to see Bill Seresin scowling at the back of the oven. When their eyes met, she panicked - those warm, familiar brown eyes were hesitant. Turning off the mixer, she turned to face him fully. “I’m afraid to say it, but you need a new oven.”

“What? No! It’s… it’s just acting up, right?” Julie said, stepping closer and placing a hand on the cold stovetop. “There’s a loose connection or something. Has to be.”

“I’ve taken this thing apart, and I’m not seeing it. You can call Joey to take a peek, but from the looks of it, this thing’s ready for the scrap pile. I’m surprised it lasted this long.”

“No, no, no, no, no.” Dropping her head into her hands, Julie felt tears prick in her eyes. She could not get an oven purchased and delivered to meet the deadline. She would have to call the mayor, apologize profusely, and refund her the total cost. And be out the cost of ingredients and a new oven.

There was a shuffling noise, and Mr. Seresin pulled her into his arms. “It’s alright, honey. We’ll get this figured out. I’ll have the boys haul this out, and we can head to the store this afternoon to get you a new one.”

Julie mentally ran through the calculations. Financially, her bank account could handle the unexpected expense. But even if they could get Jake and Will here to haul it out right away, it would be a three-hour round-trip drive to the nearest appliance store. If they had the oven she wanted in stock - a big IF - getting it back and installed would take even longer. And then there were the practicalities of breaking in a new oven - learning the hot spots, figuring out if the display temperature was the actual temperature, the timing, etc. “Even if I get a new oven, I’ll still be too far behind schedule,” she huffed, forcing herself to straighten.

“Alright. Pack up your stuff. I’ll let Kerry know that we’re on our way.”

“What?”

“You need a kitchen, and we’ve got one. You get to gatherin’, and I’ll let Kerry know we’re on the way.”

“I… it’s not that simple,” Julie said, glancing around her kitchen. The idea of packing up everything and moving to another location was…And even then, she would need to figure out the nuances of the Seresin’s oven.

“Julie, you either bake at the ranch or call the mayor. What are you going to do?”

“Jake, Will - go help your father,” Kerry said, glancing out the kitchen window to see her husband pulling into the driveway. Jake glanced up from his lunch and frowned.

“What’s he need help with?”

“Carrying things in. Now go.” Both men pushed away from the table at their mother's brisk tone and wiped their mouths on their napkins. Shayla glanced up from her phone momentarily before scrolling her comments. Jake caught Mama’s irritated look - she hated phones at the table. After slipping their shoes back on, they descended the steps just as he pulled to a stop.

“Good. Hurry up and get this stuff inside,” he said, opening his door.

“Need to go to the barn?” Will asked.

“Kitchen. Put the bowls in the fridge and everything else on the counter.” The brothers shared a look and circled the truck to see the back seat stuffed with boxes and bags.

“What the hell is this?” Jake asked.

“Julie’s comin’ to use the kitchen. She had to run to the store to get more stuff, and I told her we’d set this up for her by the time she got here. So quit yapping and get movin’.”

“And she needs all this?” Bill and Will shared a look before shoving a box of cookie sheets into Jake’s arms. “I’m missing something.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Will muttered. “Julie’s a baker.”

“Since when?”

“What part of quit yappin’ and get movin’ didn’t you understand, Jacob?” His father snapped, adjusting his grip on a tote containing a mixer and another with some other machine. Flushed, Jake turned and walked back into the house. His mother was already wiping down the counters.

“Put that right there. Julie’ll get everything where she wants it when she gets here.”

“Since when is Cece a baker? I thought she worked at the bank.”

“She does both,” Mama replied, peeking into the box when he set it down. When he was about to ask another question, Pops entered the kitchen and nodded.

“There’s more that needs to come in.” Dismissed, Jake went back outside and completed an additional three trips.

“Is she moving in?” Shayla asked, smirking at the bags and boxes currently cluttering the kitchen.

“If that’s what she needs to do, then absolutely,” Mama said, glancing at her. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Shay stood and yawned before putting a hand on her stomach.

“I’m gonna go take a nap. The baby’s making me tired.” She cast an expectant look at Jake, who glanced at his parents. When Shay took his hand, he let himself be led upstairs to the guest bedroom.

“You feelin’ okay?” Jake asked while shutting the door behind him. “Other than tired, I mean.” It dawned on him that he hadn’t asked her how she was feeling with the pregnancy.

“Ugh, I’m just ready to go home,” she replied, flinging herself onto the bed. “I miss my comfy blankets.” Pushing away the surge of irritation at her insulting his mother’s quilting, he crossed the room and sat beside her. Hesitantly, he reached out to put his hand on her still-flat stomach. It was crazy to think that in 7 months, there would be a little them. Shayla’s hand covered his, and his eyes rose to meet hers.

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

“A girl. You?” He shrugged, thumb lightly stroking.

“There hasn’t been a Seresin girl in a couple of generations, so the odds are it’s a boy.”

“Well, if that’s true,” she said coyly, running her fingers along his leg and sitting up. Her nose brushed his cheek before whispering, “I guess we’ll have to keep trying until we have a little girl.” Shayla kissed him, licking into his mouth as her fingers traced his cock through his jeans. When she tried to undo the button, he stopped her. She pouted while pulling back. “Jakey!”

“Not at my parent’s house.”

“But it’s been forever!” she whined. And she was right. They hadn’t slept together since the night of the Halloween party. As determined as he was to ensure they worked things out for their kid, he found it hard to forgive her for making out with someone else. She’d assured him that it was just a drunken accident, but he was struggling to move past it.

“Not at my parent’s house,” he repeated. Standing, he moved to the window to shut the blinds, glancing down at the driveway. He watched as Cece pulled up, and his mother walked out to greet her. As soon as the car door was closed, Mama took her hands and squeezed them.

Cece frowned and then smiled at whatever Mama said, shaking her head. Jake recognized the concern on his mother’s face as she reached up to brush a strand of hair behind Cece’s ear before cupping her face and saying something. The younger woman nodded and allowed herself to be pulled into a hug.

“Come lay down with me, at least,” Shayla huffed. Reluctantly, Jake closed the blinds and laid down beside his fiancee, closing his eyes and thinking about the future.

“Julie Louise Ryan!” Pops yelled as they sat around the dining room table waiting. Ally smirked at Will before quickly sipping her water to hide it. Jake lifted a hand to cover his mouth, exchanging a look with Mama.

“Sorry,” Cece apologized, stepping out of the kitchen. “Just needed to get the cakes in the fridge.” The only open seat was between Shayla and Pops, and she quickly dropped into it. A smile tugged at Pop’s mouth as he nodded and clasped his hands, bowing his head. Everyone followed suit.

“Heavenly Father, we thank thee for this food we are about to receive to nourish and strengthen our bodies. We thank thee for our family seated around this table and for another day on this blessed land. We ask for a special blessing for Julie as she works tonight. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” Everyone echoed the amen. Opening his eyes, Pops reached over and covered Julie’s hand, squeezing gently before nodding at Mama. She took the platter of roast beef she’d made in the crockpot to ensure that the oven was open all afternoon for Julie and passed it to Will.

“How’s it going?” Ally asked, reaching for the dish of cooked carrots.

“I’m still behind schedule, but the cupcakes are done, and I’ve got three more cakes to do. The cookies and macarons will be the worst,” Cece replied, handing the salad bowl to Shayla.

“Can we help?” Mama asked.

“No, I’ll get it. I just need to figure out the system for the macrons since they’re the most temperamental. It’ll be a lot of trial and error, but I grabbed more almond flour on my way over, so at least I’ll have that.”

“Well, you’ve got plenty of taste testers,” Will added. “I still have dreams about that bourbon bacon cake you made for my birthday.” Cece smiled and accepted the roast beef Pops handed her, spearing some onto her plate.

“Thankfully, there’s nothing that fancy this time. Just doing gingerbread, cranberry, peppermint, and eggnog.”

“If you want, I could include you in one of my videos. Maybe get you some more attention outside of here,” Shayla offered. “I’d just want to get a couple of shots of myself helping you with something. Maybe frosting one of the cakes?”

“Oh.” Cece glanced at Jake, who raised an eyebrow at Shayla’s unexpected offer. “That’s…that’s generous, but I’m good. I…uh… film for my own account.”

“How many followers do you have?” Shay asked as Jake’s eyebrows shot higher. Beside him, Will nudged him to pass the mashed potatoes.

“Four hundred thousand, last I checked.” Smiling a bit more pointedly, Shayla chuckled.

“I remember when I had that many. I’m at 3 million or so. If we collab, I’d tag you so my followers could find you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Stay up with me for a 22-hour workday! Between my day job and baking - ” Jake tapped his phone screen as Cece’s video looped, pausing it as she buried her face in her hands while leaning on the kitchen counter. He’d been scrolling her page for about an hour, working backward through her content.

He was impressed and exhausted just watching her. A lot of her videos documented going from her job at the bank right into the kitchen and ending with her in the car for a delivery. It was clear why she was always busy - Cece was talented. Jake had never been interested in watching cooking videos. Still, he was glued to the screen, watching her smoothing icing, decorating, and pouring ganache into bowls. There were also a couple of brand partnership videos.

But it was the video announcing Mr. Ryan’s death that broke his heart. Jake had watched it three times. There were clips of them working together in the kitchen, her father helping her package her treats, tasting flavors, and bandaging up her finger when she sliced it with a knife. And then Cece was alone, sitting on the floor next to the oven with her back against the cabinets as she sobbed. “My daddy always told me that I needed to start living for myself, so that’s what I’m gonna do,” she said in a voiceover while breaking a peanut butter cookie in half and popping it into her mouth. “I promised him that I’d follow my own dreams for once, so I’m putting it out into the universe that I’ll be a full-time home baker one day. Hell, maybe I’ll have my own bakery.”

Sighing, he set the phone on his chest and ran a hand down his face. When Mama had called to let him know about Mr. Ryan, Jake had almost picked up the phone and called Cece. But after nearly seven years without talking - only exchanging ‘Happy birthday’ messages on social media - calling out of the blue seemed like a lot. Especially when she was mourning. The family had ensured he knew how Mr. Ryan was doing, and he wasn’t surprised when Cece moved back to Magnolia. As much as he loved her life in Austin, she was a daddy’s girl through and through. She never would have let him go through treatment alone.

Jake reached for his water glass and frowned at finding it empty. Shit. Knowing that Cece was still working, he debated calling it a night but was still wide awake and thirsty. Grabbing his shirt from the dresser, he crept into the hallway. Light shone from Shayla’s doorway, and he quickly darted past it to the stairs, hoping to avoid another confrontation after sending her back to the room earlier in the evening.

“Shit, god damn, motherfucker,” Cece hissed, setting another tray of macaron shells onto the countertop. Her head whipped up when she heard Jake snort, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “Don’t tell your Pops.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. He’d wash your mouth out with soap,” he chuckled, walking to the refrigerator. It was filled with wrapped-up cake layers, chilling bowls of filling, and cupcakes. Turning, he glanced at the counters covered with unbaked trays. He could see her phone set up on a tripod, recording her as she worked. “I’d ask how it’s going, but I get the feeling it’s not good.”

“Nope,” she replied, tugging the pot holder from her hand and running her fingers through her hair before turning off the camera. “I’m on my sixth tray of these and can’t get the fuckin’ oven figured out.”

“What’s the issue?” he asked, glancing at the tray of cracked white cookies before her.

“It’s too hot, and there’s a hot spot in one of the corners.” Picking up one of the cookies, she turned it over and glared. “It doesn’t even have even feet.”

“Feet?”

“The shells rise a little bit when they bake.” Tossing the shell back onto the tray with a huff, she turned to the oven and lowered the temperature. Jake snagged one of the overbaked cookies and ate it.

“’Face good, dough,” he said, breathing out steam as he burned his mouth. Cece raised an eyebrow at him and smirked as he chugged half of his water. “Damn, that was hot.”

“Overcooked and straight out of the oven. I thought you were supposed to be smart, Seresin.”

“You know better than to put something you made in front of me and not expect me to try it,” he shot back. She rolled her eyes and walked to the sink to wash her hands, drying them on the towel thrown over her shoulder.

“At least try something that’s not burnt,” she prompted, grabbing a plate with cake scraps. Jake cocked an eyebrow and took a piece of the brown cake, groaning at the rich gingerbread taste, making her grin.

“Jesus, Cece, this is great.”

“Thanks. I had some extra gingerbread cupcakes, so I figured I’d decorate those for your parents as a thank you for letting me take over the kitchen today.”

“I think my parents would agree with me when I say you don’t have to do that, and you should focus on your order so you can get some sleep.”

“I’ll sleep tomorrow after I deliver this,” she shrugged, setting the plate down and lightly running a finger over one of the uncooked macaron shells. Apparently satisfied, Cece nodded and opened the oven, peering inside. “Okay, let’s hope tray seven is a winner.” After sliding it onto the rack and setting a timer for 13 minutes, she turned to face him, glancing at her camera. “Do you mind if I… I’ll keep you out of the frame and edit you out.”

“Yeah, sure.” She nodded and repositioned the tripod before picking up an icing bag. Jake watched as she piped wreaths onto five of the smooth, white tops of the cupcakes in individual boxes before picking up a pair of tweezers and placing sprinkles. The timer went off while she was working on the third one.

“I’ll get it,” he offered, grabbing the pot holder and quickly shutting off the alarm. Making sure the hot tray wasn’t close enough to burn her, he held it out and watched her scowl. “No?”

“Better, but still not it. Would you mind dropping the temp another 5 degrees?” Setting the tray down, he did as she asked and sat on one of the kitchen stools to watch her. Cece looked up at him through her lashes as she resumed decorating. “What?”

“Nothin’. Just… I didn’t realize that you were doin’ this.”

“Baking?”

“As a business.” At her shrug, he sighed and motioned to the phone. “And the whole… How long have you wanted to do this?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a baker.” When he let out a huff of surprise, Cece set down the sprinkles and quickly closed the cupcake boxes, stacking them at the end of the counter.

“You never said anything about it.”

“I didn’t think it was an option.” Jake watched her check the oven before putting another tray in.

“Why wouldn’t it have been an option?”

“It takes a long time to build up the skills and even longer to build a client base. If we were going to - ” She cut herself off, and Jake felt a jolt in his stomach. “I didn’t think I would have time to do it.”

“And you do now?”

“The internet helps. I do a lot of orders out of state, so I drive a lot. And I’ve figured out how to ship so I can get some cookies out. But yeah, I’ve had more time to focus on building my business.” Assembling five more boxes, she dropped cupcakes into them and picked up the piping bag again. “What about you? How’s life in the Navy?”

Lonely was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. When he’d moved to San Diego, he’d gotten closer to the Daggers, but since Shayla had entered the picture, it felt like they’d regressed from friends to coworkers. Nights at the Hard Deck were rare, and he was unlikely to have much time to hang out with a baby. “Fine,” Jake shrugged. Pausing to twist the bag, Cece raised an eyebrow.

“Fine? After all that work and excitement to finally fly, it’s just ‘fine’?” For something to do, he grabbed the cupcake boxes and assembled them, setting them to the side.

“I love my job. It’s just… all the other stuff.”

“Well, you’ll have a new adventure to keep you occupied at least,” Cece said, intently peering down at the cupcakes. “With the baby and all that.”

Jake froze, the kitchen silent except for the faint crinkle of the piping bag. “You, uh…I didn’t realize that you knew.”

“If you thought that Betty, the biggest gossip in town, wasn’t going to call me as soon as she found out to ‘warn’ me” - she lifted her fingers to do air quotes - “then you’ve been gone from Magnolia for too long. Plus, your Mama told me as soon as I got here.” Forcing her gaze up, she smiled, trying to banish any trace of sadness from her expression. “I’m happy for you, Jake. You always wanted to have kids.”

Saved by the timer going off, he pushed to his feet and walked to the oven. The flash of heat when he opened the door gave him a cover for why his cheeks were flushed. Taking the pan out, he pushed away the memories of lying in bed together and trading half-conscious hopes for the future. “How are these?”

“Not quite. Another five degrees?” He nodded, placing the pan on the stovetop and lowering the temperature before returning to his seat. “Can I do anything to help?”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t feel like you have to stay up - I’ve got this covered.” Ignoring the dismissal, he continued to assemble the cupcake boxes, sneaking glances at her as she worked. As the pile of boxes grew, he opened the fridge to count the cupcakes she’d be making.

“Where are the finished ones going?”

“I have a bigger box in my car that I’m going to put these in,” Cece explained, glancing at the growing pile of finished cupcakes as she placed sprinkles.

“I’ll get it.”

The clock was edging towards 2:00AM when Cece was finally satisfied with the macarons and was ready to work on the shells. Jake started another pot of coffee after finishing the first in the two hours they’d been working. While he stacked the finished cupcakes into a large box, she measured the ingredients, tossed them into the mixer, and prepared her cookie sheets.

“Skip,” Jake called out as Achy Breaky Heart started to play in his earbud.

“No appreciation for the classics,” Cece muttered, a smile tugging at her mouth as she tapped her earbud twice. The opening strings of Neon Moon started, and she couldn’t help but start to sway at the counter as Kacey Musgraves covered Brooks & Dunn. Jake heard her singing softly. “I think of two young lovers running wild and free. I close my eyes and sometimes see you in the shadows of this smoke-filled room. No telling how many tears I've sat here and cried or how many lies that I've lied, telling my poor heart he'll come back someday.”

The song faded into the next as she hand-finished mixing the meringue to ensure consistency. They started laughing at Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off. “Damn, I haven’t heard this one in forever,” Jake chuckled. Moving closer, he tapped her phone, pausing her recording, and pulled up the playlist to scroll through the songs. It took a minute to realize that it was a recreation of one of their road trip playlists from when they would drive the seven hours from Annapolis to Myrtle Beach for Spring Break. Pink dusted her cheeks when he glanced over at her, almost as though she was remembering those long drives, singing along with one another and brimming with the anticipation of finally being alone in their hotel room. No matter how much his buddies always wanted to split the cost, Jake and Cece had made sure that they had privacy at the end of the night to lose themselves in drunken kisses and hot showers. Those five days at the beach were stolen time that they needed.

Back then, they thought one week together was enough to sustain a relationship.

Cece shimmied while lifting the spatula to test the consistency. Satisfied, she brought the mixing bowl to where her piping bags and tips were prepped, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes. She flicked her head to clear her sight when it fell back into place. Unwilling to strip off her gloves, she attempted to brush it away with her shoulder. “Hey, look at me.”

“Huh?” Jake smiled and brushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Goosebumps erupted on her skin when his fingers trailed down her neck, eyes widening as they met his. He watched her cheeks flush, her breath stuttering against his wrist. “T-thanks.”

The song ended, fading into a slower ballad. “When I first saw you, I saw love. And the first time you touched me, I felt love,” Shania sighed. “And after all this time, you're still the one I love.”

Cece dropped her gaze and tapped her earbud, changing the song without looking at him. Jake hesitated a moment before changing it back. “Can’t skip Shania,” he said gruffly.

Widening her eyes, Cece blinked hard as she smoothed the icing of her last cake. It was Christmas Eve and the sun had already risen over the Seresin ranch, and she could hear muffled footsteps upstairs. Cooling racks covered all available space in the kitchen, and the dining room table was covered with boxed cakes and cupcakes. Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn, she glanced over at Jake, who had his head resting on his arms as he closed his eyes after matching the 600 macaron shells for her. Thankfully, they didn’t need to make too many extras. They only required a little decoration - before baking, she’d shaped the red, green, and silver cookies like Christmas ornaments, so a little drizzle of icing and a spritz of edible glitter would be enough to make them look shiny and finished.

“Jake,” she said softly, smiling when he grunted in response. “Go to bed - you’ll be more comfortable.”

“’ M awake, babe,” he mumbled, sitting up. Cece felt her heart clench at the slipped term of endearment, but Jake didn’t seem to realize he’d said it, so she also chose to ignore it. Rubbing his eyes, he reached for his cold coffee and drained the mug as they heard the stairs creak.

“Morning,” Mama Seresin said, tucking her robe closer as she entered the kitchen. “Did you two sleep at all?”

“Mornin’ Mama,” Jake said, his lip twitching when his mother leaned to kiss his cheek. She circled the counter to do the same to Cece. “‘Izz it time for chores?”

“Not for you,” the older woman said, giving her son a fondly exasperated look. “I think it’s time for bed.”

“I’m on the final stretch,” Cece yawned. “Just need to finish these two cakes, and then I’ll do the macarons and call it.”

“You’ll finish the cakes and then go to sleep, Julie Louise.”

“Yeah, Julie Louise,” Jake echoed, his smile fading as he lifted his empty mug. Narrowing her eyes, Cece plucked a candied cranberry from the tray drying at her elbow and lobbed it at him. Reflexes dulled by fatigue, the berry hit his forehead and fell into his lap. Grinning, he popped it into his mouth.

“Jacob.” The warning tone in his mother’s voice made him try to stifle his grin, but he was unsuccessful. Setting aside her icing smoother, Cece picked up the tray of cranberries and dropped a handful into a dish of waiting sugar, shaking it to coat them. The Seresins watched - Cece flushing at their joint attention - as she arranged the berries along the edge of the two cakes before ripping apart rosemary sprigs and placing pieces. Taking a step back, she rubbed the back of her hand on her cheek as she studied them, debating adding more berries. “They’re beautiful, Julie. I’m sure the mayor is going to love them.”

Without a word, Jake retrieved cake boxes from the dining room and assembled one while Cece did the other, trading a tired smile. She glanced at her watch as soon as they were slid into the boxes. Still behind schedule, but the macarons should only take about three hours between the decorating, assembly, and boxing. The sugar cookies would take another two hours to roll and bake, with another hour and a half to make the decorating kits. But as she stripped off her gloves and opened her mouth to say she was okay, Mama Seresin pinned her with a look. “Bed.”

“But - ”

“Bed. Both of you. You have plenty of time to get the rest of this done before this afternoon, and I’ve already made up the guest bed for you. Now get.”

The stern expression left no room for debate, and neither did the hand she wrapped around Jake and Cece’s arms and guided them out of the kitchen. Jake paused at the foot of the stairs to allow her to climb before him, watching her heavy footsteps as fatigue seemed to drag her down. Without thinking, he placed a hand on the small of her back to ensure she didn’t tip backward.

Cece’s shoulder bumped his as they walked down the hall, and he nudged her back. Her tired eyes darted to meet his, a smile tugging the corner of her mouth before she hip-checked him. His lips curved into an answering smile as they paused outside the second guest bedroom. “Thanks, Jake. I wouldn’t have gotten nearly as much done tonight if you hadn’t helped,” she said, voice rough with exhaustion.

“It was fun. Feel like I got a masterclass in making macarons.”

“You were a pretty great assistant. Might hire you on for the next round of Christmas baking.”

“Not done yet. You gotta show me how to get the ganache in them, and I’ll put the boxes together.”

“You really don’t - ”

“I’m gonna help. I feel like I’ve earned at least tasting one of the finished macarons.” Chuckling, she shook her head.

“Maybe even two.” The playfulness disappeared from her expression as she looked up at him, “I’m serious, though. Thank you.” Jake nodded, catching the fleeting moment of hesitation before Cece stepped forward and hugged him. His arms wrapped around her, hand coming up to cup the back of her head and holding her tighter. Without thinking, he pressed a kiss into her hair. Her head lifted from his chest, and he spied sugar crystals on her cheekbone. Jake brushed them away with his thumb before lifting it to his mouth to lick away the sweet taste.

Cece’s breath caught, gaze narrowing to the flash of tongue behind his parted lips. His chest brushed hers with every breath. She slowly raised her eyes to meet his. Confusion and something so familiar swirled in those green eyes. She took a step back, only half surprised when he followed to pin her between the wall and his body. Her fingers curled in his shirt, and she wasn’t sure if it was to pull him closer or shove him away. His hand rose, hesitating a moment before curving around her cheek.

Jake’s lips were soft against hers, a tentative brush that she could have imagined if it wasn’t for the rough scratch of his stubble. Her grip on his shirt tightened as he planted a hand beside her head, boxing her in as he pressed against her. The move made her whimper, and his breath caressed her skin as he laughed before they kissed again, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips and sliding against her own. Cece dug her nails into his back, inhaling sharply when he moaned against her mouth, his hips pressing against hers. “Baby,” he panted. “I missed you.”

The words were like a wave of cold water thrown over her, and Cece shoved him away. Jake stumbled back, catching himself on the opposite wall. “Shit,” she breathed, pressing a hand to her mouth.

“Cece?” Jake reached for her before letting his hand drop when he realized what they’d done.

What he’d done.

The door to his parent’s room opened, and - when he turned to meet his father’s gaze - Cece darted into the guest bedroom. “Son, everything alright?” Pops asked, frowning at his youngest.

“Y-yes, sir. Just headed to bed,” Jake replied.

Julie leaned against the door and hung her head inside the room, blinking back tears. “Fuck,” she whispered.

-----------------------------------------

Read Chapter 4

Taglist: @mamachasesmayhem; @buckysteveloki-me; @fanficfandomlove; @maeleeme; @djs8891; @kmc1989; @justenoughmadness; @shanimallina87; @lynnevanss; @dempy; @emilyoflanternhill; @midnightmagpiemama; @sordidfairytale; @vivalas-vega; @eloquentdreamer; @roosterforme; @mizzzpink; @memoriesat30; @dizzybee03

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#top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #'tis the damn season fic

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bueckerrss · 7 months

Text

Does she even exist? - c. sturniolo

warnings: mentions of abuse and death, cursing

this will be from chris’s perspective (takes place when he’s 17-18 years old then it jumps till when he’s older at least 21-22) street names are made up! (they’re not famous in this)

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late night walks weren’t really my thing but tonight i felt like i really needed one especially to get an energy drink from the gas station a few blocks away from my house.

i felt my phone buzz looking down at it i see it’s a message from nate deciding ill read it later i check the time 1:45 am, shit i needed to get to the gas station before anyone notices i’m gone.

as i walked the streets the cool boston air hitting my face making my cheeks and nose turn a slight pink color, from the distance i can see the lights of the gas station.

at the corner of the gas station where the lights are dim a girl around my age is standing there alone she kept looking around as if she was looking for something or someone.

“hey, is everything alright?” i asked her my voice seeming to grab her attention as she slightly jumped “yes, i’m alright! sorry i’m just looking for my boyfriend” she spoke softly still looking around “is he in the store? maybe i could go get him or something” i spoke pointing at the store behind her.

“oh no! he’s at work but he should be getting here soon since he got off at 1:30.” she explained looking down at her watch i pulled out my phone to check the time 2:00am “do you know how far his work place is?” i said “yea he works at booster juice you know that restaurant that’s a few blocks away?”

“oh yea that’s a great restaurant! what’s your name by the way?” i asked now seeming intrigued by the strange girl in front of me “oh my name is y/n l/n what about you?” she replied now looking at me “oh i’m christopher sturniolo but you can call me chris, hey do you go to somerville high school?” “yea i do!” she smiled “really why haven’t i seen you around?” i asked “i don’t know i’m very quiet and get to class as soon as possible maybe that’s why” she said with a shrug.

we spent a good 30 minutes talking getting to know each other until i felt my phone buzz.

NICK:

where the fuck are you?! it’s 2:45am! you said you were going to get something from the gas station that was over an hour ago!

shit. i look at the time and it surely was almost three am i quickly replied to his message before putting away my phone. “sorry to cut our conversation short but my brothers are waiting for me at home, are you sure your boyfriend is coming? i mean it’s almost three am” asked looking around for any sign of a car approaching us. “oh yea that’s okay and yes im sure he’ll be here any minute don’t worry!” she smiled at me.

“well it was nice meeting you y/n i’ll see you around!” i said as i headed towards the store and grabbing the energy drinks and heading to the cash register i pay and head out, looking towards were y/n was standing just to see she wasn’t there anymore maybe her boyfriend did come pick her up after all.

five years later

“oh my gosh remember that one time when we had hockey practice you accidentally ran into the wall because you tripped over chris hockey stick?” laughed nate as we were talking about old high school memories.

“i remember that!” laughed matt across from me as he nearly spilled his soda.

“i remember this one time chris scared the shit out of me!” spoke nick from next to me.

“what how?” asked matt leaning forward now intrigued by the conversation “yea it was like around january or so we were the only ones awake so he said he was going to the gas station a few blocks away to get a few energy drinks he didn’t come back till nearly three thirty am! what were you doing there for a long time?” questioned nick looking at me.

“oh i ran into y/n” i replied shrugging my shoulders “y/n?” asked nate confusion taking over his features “yea y/n you know y/n l/n? she had shoulder length hair and y/e/c eyes?” i said describing her but not seeming to ring a bell to the three boys in front of me “are you sure she went to high school with us?” asked matt

“yea she told me!” i replied “hold up i have the yearbook let me go get it” spoke nate as he made his way into the house.

not even five minutes later he came back yearbook in hand placing it in the table in front of us and flipping through all the pages no sign of her anywhere.

what? did i imagine her? was she even real? does she even exist?

“what the fuck, i swear i met someone that night named y/n and she went to our school!” i said pointing at the book confused as to why she wasn’t there.

the next morning i made my way to the library to research her online i tried looking for her social medias but nothing popped up.

as i walked in i made my way to the back where the computers where, i pull up the research bar and type in her name ‘no matches found’ read the screen fuck.

‘y/n l/n somerville high school’ i typed clicking the enter key to see if anything popped up ‘256 matches found’ the screen loaded to a bunch of articles “bingo” i smirked scrolling through the articles most of them being about the awards she’s gotten for being the top of her class or how she was nominated for scholarships.

nothing seeming to grasp my attention all being the same thing but rewritten as i was about to give up on my research an article at the end caught my attention,

‘TEEN GIRL FOUND DEAD IN THE WOODS BEHIND A GAS STATION NEAR OAK STREET!’

read the title of the article catching my attention i double click on it to get the full story when a newspaper article appeared on the screen making my heart drop.

‘local teen girl known as y/n was found dead in the woods behind a gas station near oak street, police say they’re investigating the incident but as far as we know the victim had several bruises on her face and body the cause of death being stabbed in the back thirteen times, the murderer has yet to be identified.’

published:1/24/99

said the article i looked through the whole article trying to find out if they ever found out who killed her or any updates on her death but nothing was updated since 1999, meaning it was a cold case and she never got her justice.

until now.

i’ll make it my mission to find out who killed her and why they did it even if it’s the last thing i do.

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how we feel about this? should i continue it? lmkkkk !!!

taglist: @sturnioloslurps @patscorner @hearts4chris @arisslifee

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #fanfic #sturniolo smut #nate doe #nathan doe

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double-vandammage · 2 months

Text

Title: Rude Awakening

Word count: 2,573

Rating: 18+

Ship: Bret Hart x Shawn Michaels

Tags/Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Bret POV, Handjob, Blowjob, Alcohol

Also posted to my a03: aa_beatrix

Here is my first fanfic in probably 6 years. I'm so nervous about it, but I hope you Hartbreak shippers like it. I'm fairly new to this ship so please be gentle. 🥹 Thank you to the encouragement of my sis @taydaq, @imabillyami, @crxssjae, and @superkickme 😘

Let me know if anyone wants to be tagged in future fics, I do plan on writing more. 🫣

Bret sat silently by his motel window, watching the rain gently glide down the glass. What a shit day he had, it was only fitting the weather was also terrible. The promo he had just cut with Shawn weighed heavily on his mind. He was so tired of the little prick. Night after night he had to observe Shawn flamboyantly parade around the stage. Not only did he have to watch the annoying spectacle, but also endure the man occasionally shake his bare ass at the crowd. The fans ate it up and he couldn’t fathom why. They were close once, it seemed a lifetime away. Thunder cracked, startling him from his thoughts. The universe was telling him to relinquish any thoughts of Shawn for the rest of the evening. He didn’t want Shawn in his head more than was required, especially while he was alone in his motel room. Bret made his way to the bed, climbing under the covers and slowly he drifted to sleep.

Abruptly there was an aggressive and continuous rap at his door. Bret was barely able to open his eyes as he dazedly glanced at the bedside clock. The time read 2:00AM. “Who the fuck-?” he grunted as the knocking became louder. He whipped the blanket from his body while quickly swinging his legs over the mattress. “I’m coming dammit.” he spat, stumbling to the door in his sleepy stupor. He put his eye to the peephole. “Jesus Christ…” none other than a Heartbreak Kid disruption. “Hey! Big daddy cool! Open up big sexy!” Shawn half yelled, half giggled. Bret opened the door, “wrong room shithead. Some of us are trying to sleep.” Shawn was drenched. He had clearly spent some time in the rain. “Whoa.” Shawn raised both hands up in defense. “This isn’t Kevin’s room?” Bret made a show of moving his hands up and down his own frame, “clearly it isn’t you asshole, what are you drunk?” Shawn put his index finger and thumb together, “Mmmm…maybe just a pinch.”

Rolling his eyes, Bret took in Shawn’s appearance. He was soaked, so much so he had created a pool of moisture on the motel floor. He was a mess. “Do you know which room Kevin is in?” he asked, not wanting Shawn to be his problem this early in the morning. “Hmmm…well I thought this was his room…so I guess…no.” he said with his signature smile, chuckling to himself. “You wouldn’t mind if I bunked here tonight, eh Hitman?” Shawn asked while running a hand through his wet hair. Bret thought this must be some cruel joke the universe was playing on him. The last thing he wanted in his room was a drunk wet dog named Shawn Michaels, but he couldn’t let him wander aimlessly up and down the halls, slamming on random doors, and calling for big sexy.

Bret crossed his arms, “shit. Fine. Do not drip on anything.” Shawn grinned, “Thanks Hitman, you’re the best there is and ever will be.” he said, pushing Bret to the side and slapping him on the arm. Bret closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “The bathroom is to the left, I can get you something to change into.” He closed the door and turned to find Shawn already on the bed. “Are you fucking kidding me Michaels? You’re super fucking soaked. Get off the bed, now.” Shawn rose, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh man…I am?” he asked, real concern in his voice. “Uh, yeah. Get up.” Bret demanded. Shawn moved almost intentionally slow, the blankets getting more and more saturated.

“Dammit Shawn. Get your ass to the bathroom.” he said, grabbing Shawn’s arm, shoving him towards the open doorway. “Alright, alright. Ya don’t gotta be so touchy.” Shawn almost immediately began stripping off his flashy costume. He shook off his vest and began removing those hideous chaps he insisted on wearing. He kicked off his boots next and in doing so Shawn had noticed Bret leaning against the door frame observing. Bret in an instant knew exactly what he was about to do. Shawn turned, his back facing him and commenced shimmying his tights down to wiggle his ass at him. “Like what ya see Hitman?” he taunted. Bret kept his face stoic, but could feel his cheeks beginning to flush. “Stop that shit and just get cleaned up would you?” he urged moving away. Shawn smirked, pulling his tights completely off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Bret began pulling the blankets and sheets off the bed, discarding them onto the floor. He could hear the water start to run and eventually steam wafted outside the door. He pulled out a plain white t-shirt and gray sweats from his suitcase for Shawn to wear. Bret climbed back into the bed to try and get some more sleep before they had to be on the road again. The shower stopped and after a few minutes, he felt the empty side of the mattress shift. “Absolutely not boytoy.” he murmured. “Oh come on Bret, there’s not even a couch in here.” Shawn whined. “Not my problem. This is already obnoxious without having dry blankets, you are not sleeping up here.” Shawn in a child-like tantrum, huffed off the bed and onto the floor with one of the pillows. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

Outside rain still poured and thunder intermittently boomed, a particularly loud burst was enough to rattle Bret awake again. The clock registered at 5:00AM. He could hear Shawn’s slow and steady breathing, surprised Shawn didn’t also wake. Rolling to the opposite side of the bed, Bret peered over. Shawn was lying on his side facing him. Long blonde hair fell down around his shoulder and pillow. His bangs draped over his eyes. Shawn was beautiful, anyone could see that. Bret found his eyes had lingered, observing the white t-shirt he let the man borrow had slightly uplifted, revealing a small glimpse of Shawn’s tanned stomach. Quickly he averted his gaze and rolled back over. Squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the sounds outside in an attempt to stifle an unresolved hunger he had no business feeling towards the Heartbreak Kid.

Unable to rest, he again got out of bed to reside by the window in the lone chair. He needed air. He opened the window just enough to feel the cool misting of rain against his face. Minutes later he heard Shawn stirring, a small groan escaping from him as he stretched. Shawn sat upright, dreamily looking at Bret. “Can’t sleep Hitman?” he mumbled. Bret ignored him, keeping his view to the window. “I gotta take a leak.” Shawn yawned as he shuffled towards the bathroom. Bret listened as Shawn fumbled around in the dark, hearing the toilet flush and sink run. He came out in the middle of another yawn, “Fuck me, I’m gonna be sore. You think people will believe me when I say I’m sore after spending the night in the Hitman’s room?” he laughed. “Don’t even joke about that shit Shawn.” Bret spat. “I’ll kick you out right now, don’t test me.”

Shawn cautiously made his way to stand in front of him. “Come on, would it be so terrible? Maybe this is exactly what you and I need.” Shawn said, reaching out a hand to brush the inky strands of hair from Bret’s face. Bret caught his wrist, stopping him. “Don’t.” Shawn only invaded his space more, moving his leg to part Bret’s thighs. His free hand tilted Bret’s chin upward so he could meet his stare. “I know you look at me. Just like I knew you were looking at me over there.” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the bed. Bret jerked his head away irritated, but Shawn hadn’t released his grip. Shawn lowered himself, his mouth inches from his ear, “I like it when you look at me…”.

Bret felt many things for Shawn Michaels. Desire he could always snuff out, now he wasn’t so sure. Shawn closed the space between them, placing his lips to Bret’s temple. Bret involuntarily let go of Shawn’s wrist, finding he was nuzzling into Shawn as he continued to trail light kisses around the side of his face. “Touch me Bret…” Shawn sighed into him. Bret moved his hands to Shawn’s waist, tugging him forward so the younger man was situated between his thighs. Shawn moved his hands to cradle his face, lifting him slightly from the chair into an eager kiss. Bret let his own hands find their way under his t-shirt, running his fingers up Shawn’s back. “Come here.” Bret breathed against Shawn’s lips, guiding him to straddle his lap.

Shawn smiled into their kiss, feeling Bret’s growing excitement beneath him. Shawn slid his hand down, teasing at Bret’s erection. “I knew you always had a hart on for me.” he joked. “Do you ever just shut the fuck up Michaels?” Bret gasped in between Shawn’s stroking. Their mouths fought for the upperhand, Bret captured Shawn’s bottom lip and bit down roughly. Shawn withdrew, taken aback, “Damn hitman.” he snickered, testing his lip for blood. He hated Shawn and this was probably a huge mistake, but all he wanted to do was make Shawn shut up. Swiftly he grabbed Shawn by the thighs, hoisting him up, and threw him to the bed. Shawn bounced onto the mattress, promptly grabbing at Bret’s shirt to yank him forward. Bret landed a quick peck to Shawn’s mouth before moving to devour his neck. Strategically he removed the pesky white t-shirt from Shawn, creating a makeshift tie to bind Shawn’s wrists.

He ran his tongue down to Shawn’s shoulder; tasting sweat, motel body wash, and a hint of rain water. Not an ideal flavor, but damn did it taste good on Shawn. Bret flipped Shawn effortlessly onto his stomach, keeping hold of his bound wrists. He swept Shawn’s hair to the side, kissing the nape of his neck. Shawn arched into him, craning his neck to meet Bret’s lips. His fingers felt for the waistband of Shawn’s sweatpants, sliding his hand under the fabric, not surprised to find he wasn’t wearing underwear and grasping his cock. Letting go of his wrists, he tapped the side of Shawn’s hips, signaling Shawn to prop himself on his knees. Shawn read him easily as if inside the ring and elevated his backside, pushing against Bret’s groin, breaking their kiss and keeping his face down to the mattress.

“Holy shit, Hitman…I want you.” Shawn sputtered as Bret began to steadily pump Shawn’s dick. “Fuck, I’ve always wanted you, Bret.” he mumbled into the bed. How long had Shawn wanted him? Was it nearly as long as he wanted Shawn? Over the years he had indulged himself in the occasional sexy boy fantasy and every time he loathed himself for it. He was a complete hypocrite with each jab at Shawn for shooting that girly mag. Now he had Shawn under him, unapologetically jerking him off. He brought his free hand to clasp Shawn’s throat, easing him upward so he could relax against his chest. Bret continued his deliberate rhythm, relishing the low moans and the way Shawn began to thrust into Bret’s hand. “Jesus. Don’t stop.” Shawn whimpered, burying his face into Bret’s neck. He could tell Shawn was getting close, his panting becoming more rapid.

The feeling of Shawn nestled into his body was intoxicating. Sure, they had their physical history in the ring which was intimate in itself but maybe Shawn was right after all. Maybe this was exactly what they needed. What they couldn’t settle on the mat, they could settle behind closed doors. Bret pressed his lips to Shawn’s forehead, “You know I still hate you?” he said, his words muffled against Shawn’s skin and damp hair. “This doesn’t change anything between us.” The hold he had on Shawn’s neck became a little tighter. “Even with my…dick in your hand, you still…manage to be all business.” Shawn choked out as Bret’s pace began to quicken. Bret covered Shawn’s mouth, muting the wail expelling from him as he erupted into Bret’s hand. Shawn clawed at his hold with his own constrained wrists, his hips rutting wildly into Bret’s palm as he rode out his orgasm.

Bret released Shawn, letting him drop to the mattress. He lay there exhausted, chest heaving and glistening with sweat. Shawn twisted his wrists from the tied up shirt, easily exiting his confines. “Bret baby…” Shawn with eyes still glazed over, rolled to face him. “Please, let me make you feel good too.” he begged, crawling between Bret’s legs to play with the drawstrings of his sweats. He lifted Bret’s shirt, kissing gently at his stomach. The touch of Shawn’s lips pressing at his skin made him shiver and the thought alone of the blonde going down on him was damn near enough to make him come. Against his better judgment, he leaned back and let Shawn take control.

Shawn slid his sweats and underwear down, revealing his throbbing erection. Without much pause, Shawn took him into his mouth. He let his eyes flutter shut, Shawn clearly had done this a time or two. His mouth felt so warm, so good, his tongue hitting all the right places. He clutched at Shawn’s hair, allowing his fingers to entangle themselves. “God damn Michaels…” he managed to groan as Shawn licked up the length of his cock. He wasn’t going to last much longer. Shawn was unrelenting as he held tightly to Bret’s thighs, keeping him in place as his hips bucked desperately into the heat of Shawn’s mouth. He couldn’t help the mangled cry Shawn managed to pry out of him as he came. “Holy shit.” he breathed, unable to form anything else articulate.

The rain seemed to intensify outside the window, brisk air filtering in and caressing their moist bodies. Shawn had positioned himself on top of Bret’s stomach, his chin resting on crossed arms. “I bet you didn’t hate me just now.” he purred. “Fuck you.” Bret smirked, propping a hand behind his neck. His dark eyes met Shawn’s baby blues. “What now?” Shawn asked. Bret’s other hand traveled down to brush the hair from Shawn’s face, tucking a rogue lock behind his ear. “I don’t know. We have to get up soon.” Shawn emitted a breathy sigh, “Let’s stay like this a bit longer.” he insisted. The Heartbreak Kid’s eyes closed as he leaned into the way Bret lazily threaded his fingers through his golden hair.

Internally Bret felt the need to run, this dangerously bordered on affection. He should shove the younger man away, tell him to get lost, and figure out what to do before their next show. However, his needs and wants were very different. He had said nothing would change, but deep down he knew neither of them believed that. Would they fall back into their rivalry or back into bed? What was to follow after, they couldn’t know now and they didn’t have to address it just yet. This sweet silence was preferred to all the bullshit they put each other through. Even if they had got it wrong, they could figure out the details later. Before the other knew it, the sound of the rain mixed with their slow breathing lulled them to sleep.

This quiet moment was theirs to keep.

#fanfic #fic #a03 #hartbreak #bretshawn #bret hart x shawn michaels #wwf ships #ns/fw #smut

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