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moondirti · 6 months

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cws: creepy behaviour that leads into future dubcon. you’re not enthusiastic but don’t hate it either? idk how to tag this

a home loaning system where civilians (who pass a thorough vetting by the military) can sublet their home as a safe house for any soldier who might need it.

you’re no patriot. when you sign up, you aren’t doing it to serve those who serve your country like the website suggests. in fact, it’s a last ditch attempt to keep yourself afloat after your roommate moves out and leaves you with a rent you can’t feasibly afford yourself. sacrifice your space in exchange for your housing fully paid for and a headache gone – it’s appealing, certainly, a little too good to be true. you’d suspect it a scam if the url didn’t end in .gov.

they ask for a lot, of course. a photo. your national insurance number, passport details and travel history from the past 10 years. occupation (student, which prompts a second question asking for your school and university ID). a ‘robust’ paragraph about your living habits. family history, health details. you must black out at one point, as you find yourself hitting submit hours later with no knowledge of what to expect.

that is, if you should expect anything. a confirmation email arrives moments later, and that’s the last you hear of it.

until 4 months later. a hefty sum hits your account, set to the exact amount you specified your rent + utilities to cost. the sender is the only indication you get that you’ve been accepted: the royal army pay corps. on their dime now, and expected to act with the utmost discretion – for your sake as much as theirs. you spend that night fighting sleep on the couch, waiting for a knock by some zealot in fatigues.

no one shows up.

not immediately, at least. gratefully – and a tad surprising given your infamously cheap government – you’re paid regardless of whether anyone requires your service or not. for weeks you treat it as passive income, gauze against bleeding finances, tamping your stress so you can focus on your studies instead. life begins to look up. the air smells a little crisper every morning. you sleep deep and well.

but the knock comes. belatedly, but it comes.

at 12 am, no less. you had resolved to pull an all-nighter to study for your midterm, so you don’t miss the low rap of knuckles against your door. though at this point, you’ve long forgotten of the expectation that can be delegated to you at any time. your apartment’s a mess: laundry unfolded, dishes stacked in the sink. what’s more, your spontaneous guest scares you out of your right mind. a quick look through the peephole is enough to tell you that he is not the pizza delivery man, but a figure towering just below two metres, dressed in a balaclava and plain hoodie.

“who is it?” you call out, scrambling for an offensive weapon of any sort. you end up with a broom from the nearby cleaning cupboard.

“lieutenant riley.”

oh.

you crack open the door, poking your head out to give him a thorough once over. “you don’t look very military-like.”

“wha’ a shame.”

lieutenant riley then gives you no choice but to step aside, driving himself through the entryway through brute force. your instinct is to react with pure terror, tripping backward until the broomstick crosses firmly over your chest. yet flight rapidly switches to fight as he dumps his duffel bag by your shoe rack and rummages through your fridge.

“hey! don’t they teach you manners in basic?”

“wouldn’ last a day if they did, pet.” he tucks three water bottles under his arm, then picks his stuff off the ground once more. amidst the warmer light of your home, he stands as a herculean anomaly. shoulders that fill the foyer, each hand as large as your skull. his eyes – shadowed, framed in isolation from the rest of his face. and when he stares, unease bleeds into you. as black and void as his civic garb, forming a tightening grip over your heart.

this strange man is in your home.

this strange, large, dangerous man is here to stay for however long he needs.

he lacks all propriety and unabashedly ogles at your bare legs, adjusting himself in plain sight – and to make things exponentially worse, he isn’t uninvited. you brought this man here.

(which means you’ll have to put up with the strange violation already settling in your chest.)

“your… your room is on the left.”

he says nothing, disappearing to where you point him.

so, the lieutenant is a fucking nightmare.

whatever benefits came with having your rent paid for are immediately negated by the amount of food he consumes. groceries that last you a fortnight are gone in a matter of days, which is perplexing given that you never see him cook. you imagine he slips whatever he can down his throat before going back into hibernation, like some beast too primal for preference.

you call it hibernation because that’s what it is. he knocks out for hours, door locked, no sound or light coming from the gap underneath. you once spent half an hour just listening in after he hadn’t shown face all day, wondering whether you’d be making a call to corpse control for the dead body in your guest room. the effort had been purely motivated by concern, you swear it, however hard that was to explain when he stepped out a few minutes later to find you on your knees, cheek pressed against the floor.

the look he gave you is impossible to forget. hungry, amusement palpable behind the eyes that immediately fix onto your raised behind. you stopped wearing pyjama shorts that day. partly due to your discomfort, but mostly because the pair goes inexplicably missing from your laundry basket. a voice tells you to check under his pillow when he steps out, but the possibility is far too upsetting to seriously consider.

not like he’s above it, though. he crosses so many boundaries, you’d think they weren’t common courtesy.

of such instances: in the months since your roommate moved out, you’d gotten into the bad habit of keeping the bathroom door unlocked. while that is your fault, the terror himself isn’t blameless given his address of the situation. he should be able to hear the water running as you brush your teeth or wash your face, and yet he walks in anyway, pulling his heavy cock out to piss as you try to ignore the way it heaves between his legs, even when completely soft.

“doyewmind?” you hiss one morning, mouth still full of foam. it looms in your periphery, fat and ruddy. a trail of wild hair leading down to–

riley shoots you a blank look. “no’ at all.”

then tucks himself back into his pants, hand smoothing across your lower back as he slips out. it occurs to you to be grateful that he keeps away when you shower, up until the absolute absurdity of your standards hit you like a killing blow.

the bar is in hell.

(yet you sneak a finger between your legs sometimes, only when you’re absolutely sure you’ve locked the door, and imagine how things would unfold if he were to infringe on your most basic of rights.)

it doesn’t take long before your quiet fantasy is realised. all it takes is for you to come home particularly late one night – heels in hand and makeup a mess after letting yourself loose at the end-of-term party – to find riley waiting on you, unmasked.

[next]

#sorry ive been really into mean creepy nasty man simon lately #ill edit in the morning💤#simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley #ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #x reader #cod #call of duty #fanfic

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redflagshipwriter · 2 months

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Fast Car Chapter One (of four)

Masterpost

Danny hit the brakes hard and veered into a bicycle lane with a very Fenton sort of style and disregard for physics. He dodged the gunman in the carpool lane. He stuck his tongue out as he passed and then steered back into the right lane once he’d cleared the pedestrian.

It turned out that Gotham rewarded the sort of drivers forged in the crucible of the Fenton tactical GAV, which was great. Jazz had gotten a job as a barista for her third year at Gotham U, so he had inherited the car that she had used as a delivery driver. She’d even somehow managed to pay the taxes on it despite the restraining orders that most government offices had on the Fenton family.

Jazz had been a pizza girl, but Danny wasn’t willing to work the late nights. He worked for three different rideshare companies. It was.. Well. It was a terrible way to make a living, if he was honest. It was wretched. But it worked! Until the car crapped out on him, this was a viable option to feed himself while he was enrolled full time at the university. He was available to drive early in the mornings and for a few peak hours on the weekends.

Danny brought an order of 17 coffees to a warehouse with serious ‘murders will happen here today’ vibes and whistled as he left. People in murder warehouses actually tipped pretty well. Worker solidarity or something. He left the early birds to enjoy their 3 am drinks and then idly checked the app to see if there was anyone else waiting for a ride or delivery.

“Victor,” he read, and took a glance at the address. It was close! He snagged the request and turned on some bubblegum pop to enhance the ride over.

He saw a man standing outside, haunting a storefront with metal shutters pulled down. Must be the guy! Danny pulled over, checked the app, and then furrowed his eyebrows. Huh. Seemed wrong. He fixed his face before he looked back over.

In the app, Victor didn’t look especially young or fit. In person, he was easily over 6 feet tall and lugged a huge bulky bag like it weighed nothing.

He also had a giant ugly motorcycle helmet with the vague impression of a caveman brow ridge built into it. Danny hid his judgmental thoughts and rolled down the window to chirp, “Hi! Victor?”

“That’s me.” Victor sounded like he was auditioning for the Deft Punks, electronics grinding out his voice to a silly robot autotune. Danny hid the way his lips wanted to tremble. You can’t laugh at clients. “Can I put this in the trunk?”

Danny hated that. “Go for it.” He opened the trunk with the button and hid his real thoughts. He didn’t like people using the trunk. Why not just put it in the backseat like a normal person? There was enough room for a person and a bag there.

‘Is there enough room for this guy, actually?’ Danny wondered, looking Victor up and down subtly. Were his shoulders padded or was he actually built like that? Bizarre.

He had the sense that Victor was tense.

‘Ah., fuck. He caught me checking out his shoulders.’

Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.”

Victor took him up on the front seat option and readjusted the passenger seat back with a casual ease.

Danny waited a moment.

Victor cocked his head at him.

“Seatbelt,” Danny prompted.

There was a long moment. Victor silently buckled his seatbelt.

“Awesome.” Danny put on his turn signals and pulled out. He went slower than he preferred. He’d learned the hard way that most passengers didn’t like his driving. It was great for cutting time off when he was delivering food, but no good for nervous cargo like poor Victor here. The poor guy was so anxious that he kept his emotional support helmet on when a passenger in a car.

Danny thoughtfully drove the speed limit and let Victor change music.

They didn’t have much to talk about. Danny didn’t mind much either way. He liked quiet rides and he liked chatting alright.

“Stop the car two blocks early,” Victor said. He pointed. “There’s fine.”

Obligingly Danny guided the car to a stop and shifted to park. He jumped out of the car. “I’ll grab your bag!” He called over his shoulder. He popped open the trunk and lifted Victor’s bag with a winning smile that said ‘I deserve a good tip.’

Victor had moved to the back of the car faster than Danny expected. He paused. He looked weirdly stiff. “Thanks.” He took the bag. “...Here’s your tip.”

“Have a wonderful day!” Danny said, pretending not to be interested in how much money it was. He waved Victor goodbye and pulled out. As soon as he was a block away he counted the bills. “Fuck yeah,” he hissed. Victor tipped like a crime boss. He stuffed them into his wallet and made a mental note of the account. He’d definitely try to accept requests from him in future.

He gave two more rides before he could go back to his shitty apartment and get ready for classes. Danny parked in the little underground garage near his place where he paid a monthly fee and jogged to his place. He got his bag and left on foot.

He had a pretty normal day. The only hiccup was that it was kind of hard to focus on his lectures when he could faintly hear what had to be every TV on campus playing the same news bulletin. Danny did his best to block it out, grimacing. Having advanced senses really sucked sometimes. If he heard the breaking news jingle one more time, he might cry.

By the time he was free he felt pushed to his limit. He went back to his place and turned off all his electronics for some peace of mind.

The next morning felt better. He turned on the tab that said he was available for work at 3 am and ended up bringing a huge delivery of breakfast materials to the same police station that he’d left Victor at yesterday. Danny hummed as he jogged up the concrete steps with three bulging bags of baked goods and coffee grounds. He handed them to a weary-eyed receptionist and accepted his tip without looking at it. He considered cracking a joke about them being busy and decided it was better not to.

He was still an illegal entity, after all. His parents were covering for him, but scrutiny was not his friend. He didn’t want any interaction with the police or the rogue band of detective freakazoids that ran this crime town.

Back in the car, he checked his tip. Danny clicked his tongue and made a disgusted sound. He hated cops. Cheap! There was nothing worse than being cheap.

His next customer tried to rob him at gunpoint as soon as he got in the car. Danny wrestled the gun away from him and ate it while the guy watched. “Just try and report me to the app,” Danny sneered between crunches of metal. It tasted like shit and the guy probably hadn’t washed his hands, so like, yuck. But it was a choice he was making for the intimidation factor, not because it was yummy.

‘Bet my iron intake is good now.’ Danny held out his hand. “My tip,” he said, and did not unlock the car door until the shaking wannabe carjacker had given him three dollars American money. Hell yeah. “Have a good morning.”

He went into the app and canceled the ride. There was another request waiting, so he drove to it. It wasn’t the name that the app’s request had shown, but- “Good morning, Victor!” Danny waved. “Call from a friend’s app this time?”

Victor stared at him dumbly. At least, that was Danny’s best guess of what was going on inside the helmet. “Yes.” He eventually said.

Cool, cool. Very weird. But he was an ok guy and he tipped well. “Hop in,” Danny said, and unlocked the car.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main #red fast car

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vividxpages · 1 month

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౨ৎ˚⟡.⭒˚no parents, big house⭒˚⟡˚౨ৎ

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 4400

summary: with his family out of the house for one night, Jacaerys and you decide to make the most of it.

warnings: modern au, established relationship, domestic fluff, wine drinking, they’re both just really in love with each other, smut (making out, dry humping)

a/n: This is my first time writing smut for Jacaerys, I hope you like it, let’s get through this big hiatus and be good to each other! <3

-⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🤍🍕💋୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

When you rang the doorbell of the Targaryen-Strong household, you could already hear screeching coming from behind the door.

Smiling to yourself, you shifted on your feet, the staple of pizza cartons in your hand warm on your palm. A bag hung over your shoulder and excited shivers ran through you at the prospect of spending the entire night over at Jace’s place.

Your boyfriend’s mother and her husband had decided to go out tonight, a rather rare occurrence with multiple boys under their roof and Jace and you had decided to make the most of it. Privacy often was an unknown word here and to both Jace’s and your embarrassment, the two had been caught making out on his bed (in various states of undressing) by his siblings enough times already.

Tonight though, there had been a compromise.

Jace was allowed to spend the night with you, but only if Lucerys took the others to see a movie tonight and the brothers were in charge of making dinner for everyone beforehand. Jacaerys had agreed in a heartbeat and butterflies had taken wing in your stomach when he texted you the plan later, accompanied by three red hearts.

Although Jace was a decent cook – you could confirm this, talking from experience – the pizza had been your idea. And if Jace’s brothers did not love you enough already, the door opened and you and the stacks of pizza were greeted with shouting and frantic hugs before these whirlwinds of dark curly hair disappeared down the hallway in excited chatter and you stood face to face with your boyfriend.

“Hi.” You smiled brightly as he quickly took your important delivery from you.

“Hi.” He breathed, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as always when you two shared a moment. He was wearing his favorite pair of gray joggers and a white shirt, his hair adorably put back in a bun that had you staring at him, utterly in love and anticipating your stay in his home tonight.

Behind his back, a sudden scream could be heard and a pillow flew through the air. You grimaced at the chaos seemingly going on in the living room and your boyfriend’s nostrils flared in annoyance as he threw a stern look over his shoulder.

“I swear they were behaving before; I think we had too many sugar cookies earlier.” He sighed, stepping aside to let you in, his hands subconsciously finding your waist on its own. You leaned up and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, inhaling the delicious smell of his cologne.

“Don’t worry, I’m not your mom.” You joked. You two quickly closed the door, not wanting the neighbors to suspect someone was getting murdered in here.

He chuckled. “Lucky me then.” Into the vague direction of the living room down the hall, he ordered: “Guys, be quiet or we’re going to eat all this pizza by ourselves and I tell mom you’ve terrorized me and Luke all evening.”

This threat brought silence to the house and you snorted.

“Always works.” He told you before grabbing your hand and leading you to the massive living room, big panorama windows offering a look into the garden of the property. Luke was waving at you from the kitchen, his smile still a little sour since he had to take care of their smaller brothers for tonight, as he prepared plates for everyone.

The twins, now relatively calm and obedient, sat side by side on the couch, smiling brightly at you. You dropped your bag by the staircase, kneeling in front of them and ruffling their light hair. “Hey, you two. Jace told me you’re watching a movie tonight?”

Jacaerys adoringly smiled at you as you talked to his baby brothers, his heart melting as always when he could see how well you were getting along with his family. You had been over enough times to earn yourself a permanent spot in the hearts of all his family members and it fulfilled him deeply to know you were his and you belonged with them just as you belonged with him.

Soon, his family was going to go on vacation and last week, his mother had told him she would be delighted to have you there with them as well. He could’ve cried with happiness and the two of you certainly had celebrated, in your own way.

But tonight, he couldn’t wait to play house with you, only for a little while until you were going to move in with each other one day.

“Thank you for the pizza.” Luke mumbled through his bites and you waved it off, leaning into Jace’s side as the group all settled down on the big couch in the middle of the room. You tugged your legs underneath you and sighed happily as you bit into your first piece, one of Jace’s hands that wasn’t occupied with his own slice resting on your naked thigh.

It had been hot outside tonight and you were still wearing shorts. While you listened to the twins’ stories and chatted with Luke, Jace began to slowly circle his thumb on your knee, the gesture as delicate as the brush of a feather. But it was enough to make you falter, all your nerves seeming to travel down to the small patch of skin being touched by him.

It was enough to distract you and yet, it wasn’t nearly enough.

But this sweet torture of his and inevitably, you giving in to it, had to wait for now.

“Want a slice of mine?” You asked him sweetly, offering him a piece of your pizza covered with cherry tomatoes, arugula and hearty cheese. He nodded, leaning forward and letting himself be fed by you. When you wiped a little blob of sauce from the corner of his lips, Luke had enough.

“Can’t you use your own hands, Jace?” He teased, a knowing grin on his mischievous face.

“Aren’t you supposed to leave to see the movie soon?” Jace shot back, unbothered and unashamed as you laughed and licked your finger clean, causing Joffrey to watch the two of you with a disgusted face. Once, when he still had been a little smaller, he had compared the two of you to his own parents because of the way you always gravitated towards each other, always touching when you could, but you couldn’t be sure he wasn’t regretting this comparison now.

Luke looked to the clock on the wall, startling. “Oh shit, we’re going to be late.”

“Oh shit.” The twins echoed and the two older brothers shared a look.

“If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you taught them this.” Jace declared nonchalantly and Luke groaned, taking his plate to the kitchen and telling everyone wanting to see Paw Patrol tonight to hurry up.

You chuckled, kissing Jace’s bony shoulder and standing up as well, taking his plate from him.

“No, no, I’m not letting you wash our dishes, you’re my guest tonight.” He protested and took them to the sink himself. You once again shivered at his words, the prospect of having the whole house to yourselves for a few hours more than enough to spark your wildest fantasies of him…

There was some hustling and bustling going on in the hallway as Jace and you worked together by the sink - a compromise because you always wanted to help - before Joffrey shouted a quick goodbye to you.

“Do you guys want ice cream?” Luke asked his brothers on their way out and Jace groaned, quickly shouting after them: “Don’t give them more sugar!” The door fell shut behind them and soon, you heard the engine of Jace’s car start.

“Don’t worry too much about them.” You told him softly, seeing the way Jace bit on his bottom lip, a common sign that he was overthinking. “They’ll be fine.”

“I know…” He took one of the plates you held up and dunked them into the full sink. “I’m very happy you’re here tonight. I was thinking about it all day.”

“Me too.” You whispered, suddenly short of breath.

It wasn’t the first time you were sleeping over, but with a house full of people, indulging intimacy with your boyfriend was…difficult. Dinners were spent by the big table with his family and once you retreated into his room upstairs – sometimes after roasting marshmallows over the fire pit outside or playing board games with his competitive parents – the two of you were mostly too tired to stay up any longer. Jace shared a bathroom with Luke, so taking advantage of the luxurious big shower was too risky, and the walls were not as thick as you would’ve guessed for such a big mansion.

So, most of these nights ended cuddled together in his bed, sated and happy and tired, sleepily kissing each other in the darkness until you either fell asleep together or Jace would sneak his warm hands underneath his sleeping shirt on you, ghosting over your body until you’d eventually let out a needy whimper he had to cut off with a kiss or his hand. How often had you come around his skilled fingers, silencing your little moans and gasps in the crook of his neck or breathing them into his mouth? And how often had he softly bitten your neck or shoulder to stifle his moans while you sweetly jerked him to completion, giggling to yourself when he had to stagger out of bed shortly afterwards to find a tissue for your sticky hand?

“Is there something you’d like to do?” Jace asked you, ever so eager to make sure you were the most comfortable you could be. You thought of the sun chairs outside on the terrace and how lovely it was the stargaze together or the pool, its crystal-clear waters flickering seducingly. You thought of the shower, your gaze flickering down to Jace’s subtle but strong muscles, subconsciously licking your lips.

But you also had not seen him all week and you desperately wanted to relish the quietness of his home with him before everyone else came back later tonight.

You shrugged, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I just like to be with you. Maybe we can finish up here and watch a movie and cuddle?”

Jace wanted to melt at your innocent suggestion. “Sounds perfect to me. I’ll dry the plates; you grab us two glasses? Dad brought a fancy wine yesterday.”

You found the bottle in question quickly, your eyes widening at the fancy label around it. “I’m not sure if this is meant for us, Jacey. This is expensive-expensive.”

Jacaerys threw the towel over his shoulder, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to him. You had listened to the radio as you worked and an old school love song was echoing through the kitchen now, your boyfriend goofily swaying to the beat and wrapping his arms around you. “I’ll buy a new one first thing tomorrow. We can act like we’re adults tonight.”

“Jace, we are adults.” You laughed as he twirled you, your arms wrapping around his neck and fingers playing with the stray curls in his nape. You sloppily swayed to the beat, lost in each other’s eyes and smiles and you knew you were not ever going to love anyone else the way you loved Jacaerys. There wasn’t space for anyone else, because you were sure your whole heart only consisted of him.

Eventually, you filled – and emptied - those wine glasses and danced through the kitchen, your laughter echoing through the house, making it your home for the night. You exchanged some giddy kisses and his lips tasted like heavy wine and when you pulled back, his dark eyes laid hazily on you.

Your gaze flickered down to his mouth once more, the wine in your system making it hard to think.

After a moment, he swallowed hard and tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

Neither of you had any idea how you managed to stick to the movie, but a little later, you found yourself on the couch, one leg thrown over Jace’s, your head safely nestled in the crook of his neck. Jace had dimmed down the lights of the living room and prepared a bowl of snacks for the two of you while you had changed into something more comfortable.

Now, it had gotten dark outside and the black void of the garden rested to your left while Jace rested his chin on your head, absently picking up some popcorn from time to time as you watched the movie. Earlier, you almost could’ve not hidden the mischievous grin on your face as you quickly snuck under the blankets on the couch, Jace’s back still turned to you. You had picked one of his soft shirts to wear and underneath it, which he had not noticed yet, you were only wearing panties. The lacy, soft pink ones he loved oh so very much.

Jace had returned to caress you mindlessly, his fingers wandering up and down your naked leg and the steady motion made your eyelids drop from time to time, a small yawn escaping you as you nuzzled your face in his neck.

Jace squirmed, not entirely unpleasant. “Hey…’m ticklish.”

“Sorry.” You breathed back, one of your hands finding a good spot on his toned stomach, the fabric separating your palm from his warm skin almost too much to bear. Like this, it went on for a while, both of you focusing less and less on the movie on the big flatscreen and more and more on the little touches you gifted to each other. Wanting, unspoken questions, disguised by innocent affections.

A while ago, he had turned a little, one of his clothed legs having found the perfect spot between your thighs, still held back by the fluffy blanket draped over you. But you were slowly having enough of useless fabrics between the two of you and Jace’s lean leg between you wasn’t exactly helping to ease the growing pull in your stomach.

You shuffled even closer and Jace tore his dark eyes away from the screen to look deeply into yours, his plush lips slightly agape as he watched you grind your hips forward, your hand drifting beneath his shirt to ghost over his skin. You felt the muscles in his stomach tense underneath your touch, his breath ghosting over your lips and when he finally dared to capture your mouth with his, you let out a relieved sigh.

Forgotten was the movie that had not interested you from the start as Jace blindly grabbed the bowl of snacks and moved it out the way. His hand drifted over your thigh as he delicately cupped your cheek, making your blood tingle underneath his soft touch, and finally snuck underneath the blanket.

You grinned against his lips, tilting your head to give him more access as a shaky sigh escaped him, his fingers trying to feel where the seam of your shorts began. Instead, his fingertips brushed over silk and lace and his mind short-circuited.

He pulled back, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he looked at you through them. Both of you were breathing hard, with flushed cheeks and arousal coursing through your veins. He looked at you like you were a miracle, not believing how he managed to end up with such a lovely creature. You pushed your thighs together as he slowly licked his lip, feeling already that your precious panties were going to be soaked very soon. And to think that he had not even gotten started…

“Jace…” You whispered, almost a whine as his thumb brushed over the lacy material, his pupils blown wide as he leaned forward and kissed your neck. You threw your head back, whimpering as his teeth dragged over a sensitive spot. “Please.”

He peeled away the blanket, letting it fall to the floor and looked down, your shirt messily pushed upward to reveal your tummy and the soft pink panties. You swore you could see the dragon in him, his family symbol just lingering underneath the surface. His knee was still resting between your thighs, not yet giving you what you craved so much. Your mouth watered as his darkened gaze landed on you again, his thumb brushing over your wet bottom lip. He whispered, his hoarse voice sending goosebumps through you; “You’re the most beautiful girl…god, you’re driving me insane with how much I want you.”

You exhaled shakily. “You got me.” You nodded, trusting him with your whole being. You both had known how this night would’ve ended and yet, you could never prepare yourself for the intensity of your feelings for Jace. Your hand freed his hair from the scrunchie tied to it and you brushed through his soft curls.

“I love you.” Jace murmured and attached his lips to your neck once more, finally having some mercy on you as he pushed his knee forward and making you cry out. The rough fabric of his joggers pressed against your thin, wet panties, the delicious pressure making you weak in the knees. You threw your head back, your arms naturally resting around his neck as you pushed your chests together, sinking into the pillows behind you in bliss.

Jacaerys paced the rhythm, slowly grinding against you with his thigh, feeling your legs quiver as little lightning shot through your core with each of his motions. Cuddling with him for so long had heightened all your senses, making it hard to concentrate as you pushed your hips forward, riding his thigh as he peppered kisses against your skin, drawing aside the shirt from your shoulder so he could leave a loving mark there, too.

With a particular enthusiastic buck forward, you made him hiss, your little whines and whimpers having made him rock-hard and straining against his own pants. You placed two fingers underneath his chin, drawing him up into a desperate and messy kiss and his hands on your waist tightened their hold.

“C’mere, baby.” He murmured into your mouth, his thigh still rubbing against your most sensitive part. “In my lap, up you go.”

You let yourself be hoisted up until your knees were placed on either side of his slim hips and you gasped into his mouth, your core now deliciously pressed against his length. He placed his shaking hand into your hair and your hands found purchase on his chest, helping him to take it off and throw it somewhere else.

You giggled, head spinning with pleasure as you were juggled around in his lap by him wriggling out of these damn joggers off, your laugh suddenly cut off when he bucked his hips up into yours, the outline of his dick fitting perfectly against you.

“Can I take this off?” Jace asked you breathless, playing with the hem of your shirt and you pecked his lips encouragingly.

“Yes, please.” You could feel his heart beating fast underneath your palm. “I might go insane if you don’t.” You bit your lip and Jace groaned, quickly nodding as he lifted your shirt over your heart and tugging you close against him so you wouldn’t be cold at first.

“Anything you want.” He mumbled, eyes glazed over with love as he looked at you, his fingers ghosting along the underside of your chest, his thumb soothingly touching one of your nipples. “God, you’re incredible. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You smiled and then, you did not talk anymore, driven by the growing need for each other now. You started to grind your hips forward again, hissing at how amazing the friction felt for now, the little gasp Jacaerys let out only encouraging you to continue like this.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to brush your hair back, caress your chest or guide your hips with them. You felt the mixture of the wine from earlier and the warmth in your core get to your head, the room around you spinning as you found another fantastic angle which made his clothed dick rub over your wet clit just right.

You let out a long-drawn moan, doubling your effort and leaning close to Jace so he could hear every little sound he lured from deep within your body. And in return, he made sure you heard him, his gasps soon turning into the sweet whines you loved so much. There was a wet patch on his briefs as you looked down and you had been a mess anyway and none of it mattered the slightest if he only continued to move you around in his lap like he did now.

“’m close…” You told him, brows scrunched together and eyes closed in pleasure as you rubbed yourself against him. Jace was watching your every movement, fascinated how someone as delicate and sweet as you could really belong to him, peppering kisses on your exposed chest and tugging you forward hard, back and forth on his dick, again and again, a thousand nerves in both your bodies alight.

“So perfect for me, so sweet…” He mumbled and your core clenched around nothing at his sugary affirmations. He kissed your cheek, your neck, over and over again, feeling as your grasp on control continued to slip. “Wanna see you come, my love, fuck- I love you so much…”

“Love you.” You whimpered, mouth a little o-shape, sweat on your forehead and Jace could not help himself, he needed to feel you.

His hand disappeared in your panties, one of his fingers finding your achingly hot clit as the other gathered up your wetness. You keened loudly, doubling over in sweet and utter defeat, immediately caught by his arms and held against his chest. You could’ve sobbed with pleasure as he rubbed one, two, three circles on your clit and then you exploded into a million stars, shattering into stardust right in his safe embrace.

Your orgasm tore through you like a crashing wave and Jace held you through it, throwing his head back against the couch’s backrest, groaning deeply from his chest as he felt himself spill into his underwear, the friction and your sweet sounds too much for his system. You still rode him and his soaked fingers, chasing the high he had gifted you, his fingers continuing to guide you through it all, only slowing their efforts when he felt you twitch with little aftershocks and overstimulation.

Your body slumped against his, breathing heavy and hot as you let out a satisfied smile.

He kissed your temple, hugging you close and closing his eyes as your heart beats slowly calmed down again until they were almost beating as one. You let yourself be held by him, tiredly drawing little hearts on his chest and smiling happily as he kissed your cheek.

“Feeling good?” He asked quietly and brushed back your sweaty hair.

You lifted your head, nodding timidly as you kissed his freckled nose. “Amazing. And you?”

“Perfect.” He smiled blissfully and when you shifted to get more comfortable, both of you grimaced at the sticky feeling. “We made quite a mess, huh?”

Your eyes widened and you hid your face in his neck. “Oh god, do you think anyone will notice?” Suddenly you could not believe you both had let this get so far, in the living room of his family as well-

“Nah, everyone won’t be home for another couple of hours and we can air out the room through the terrace doors.” His eyes sparkled as they looked you over, tucked against him, perfect in every way. “We’ll clean up here and go up to my room to clean you up, okay? Does that sound good?”

“And we’ll cuddle?” You wanted to know, a safe and sacred part of your soul only coming to show itself when Jacaerys was taking care of you like this. To know he knew what you needed and to simply let yourself be led by him made your mind blissfully empty yet full of love and adoration for your boyfriend.

“Yes, love, of course we’ll cuddle.” He pecked your cheek and helped you stand up. (But then again, this whole thing had started out by simply cuddling too, didn’t it?) When you lifted your arms obediently, he slid his shirt back on you and collected his own from the floor, arranging the pillows neatly and folding the blanket like nothing inappropriate had ever happened here.

You laughed as you tried to walk on wobbly legs, only to be scooped up by Jace before you could even reach the staircase. “I think we ruined your favorite underwear.” You whispered into his ear and he blushed madly.

“You can wear one of my boxer shorts if you want.” He offered and you nodded quickly, always a little thief when it came to his clothing. He carried you upstairs, mindful so your legs wouldn’t bump into anything, and gently set you down on his bed once you reached it, kissing your forehead one more time before he rummaged through his closet and found you something to sleep in.

It was ridiculous how happy you felt, how unbelievably in love you were with Jacaerys Targaryen-Strong. You watched him with soft eyes, nearly melting when he cleaned you up with a warm washcloth first, then helped you dress and slid into his twin size bed with you in his arms.

You kissed his smooth jaw, getting comfortable in the familiar safety surrounding you. His fingers were stroking up and down your spine in an easy rhythm.

“I think I’m going to give your brothers gift cards for the cinema for their birthdays.” You mumbled sleepily against him and he laughed, the sound like bells in your ears.

With it, you drifted off into a wonderful, dreamless sleep and he followed you soon after…

When Rhaenyra came back later that night, finding her sons passed out in their beds, she couldn’t help but peek into her oldest’s room, finding the two of you sleeping peacefully and entwined with each other.

In the morning over breakfast, she kept it to herself that the TV had still been running and you two had left the terrace door open…

𓆩♡𓆪

taglist: @earth4angels @princessvelaryon

If you would like to be tagged for Part 2, let me know with a comment <3

#jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd

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mosspapi · 2 years

Text

Why did Panago deliver my iced tea in a brown paper baggie last night. Just now processing how fucking weird that must’ve looked

#Like I leave the building in the dark of night as a nondescript car pulls into the parking lot. Guy gets out looks around #for archer? -yeah #He pulls out a cardboard box and a massive fucking paper bag containing something that is obviously a bottle of some kind #I nod take it and go back inside. Drug deal? Secret alcohol delivery? No.#Liptons Brisk Iced Tea and a small pizza #armchair speaks

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heartfullofleeches · 5 months

Note

What if darling orders from a different restaurant and brie coincidentally arrives right when the actual delivery person does? I feel like he'd be jealous af

Yan "Pizza Boy" + Reader

Who is that-

Arriving at your street, tires screech to a hault as your home rolls into view. The driver takes a second look. Then a third - knuckles white as fingers clench around the steering wheel.

A car he's never seen before sits in the little parking spot outside your house. His parking spot. Some old, beat up hatchback painted the ugliest shade of blue he'd ever seen - tape covering its left tail light and bumper held on by zip ties. By now, the delivery boy has made enough visits to your home to recognize cars of your friends and loved ones. Who is this? The flickering sign atop the rusting hunk of metal lifted some of the weight from his shoulders - only to crush him with a new fear as the other driver casual steps out of his vehicle, carrying bag strapped to his shoulder.

"Oh, hell no-"

Brie curses under his breath - pulling into your neighbor's driveway with one hand on the wheel as he reaches into the passenger seat with the other. He quickly gathers his things, kicking the driver's side door open as he goes to exit - hissing in frustration as his seat belt digs into the flesh of his neck. He unbuckles himself, shutting the door behind him with the heel of his sneaker as he races across your neighbor's yard. He slows down to carefully step over their hedges right as the other delivery person reaches your porch. Brie curses again-

"Oh my God! There's someone hiding in the back of that blue car with the dirty windows!"

The delivery person runs off back to their car. With little time to celebrate his victory, Brie marches up to your front door and rings the doorbell. You looked surprised - yet oddly happy to see him. His heart flutters.

"You?"

Brie beans from ear to ear "Yup! It's me! Got another pizza for you here. Same as the last."

"Thank you, but I already ordered from someplace else. Couldn't find anywhere nearby with alfredo sauce pizza so I had to settle for the usual."

You were looking for him?.... The place he works for that is. Brie shoves the box against your chest, biting down the scream ready to escape. "Don't worry, this one's on the house too. We're still experimenting with the recipe so it isn't available on our menu yet. I'm sure my boss will be happy to hear you enjoyed it."

"Well... Since it's free I guess it wouldn't hurt to take it off your hands. Won't have to order out for a week at this rate. Do you have a number I can reach you at?"

Multiple issues could arise from giving you his personal number - Brie was too excited to dwell on future problems when he had your attention now.

"Sure! Do you have a pen and paper?"

In the time it takes you to retrieve said items the other delivery person returns. He looks at Brie, a flicker of recognition in his eyes as he inspects his face.

"Hey... Aren't you-"

"Their boyfriend attacked a guy once."

The delivery driver looks taken aback. "What did you say?"

"I had a friend who worked at this one other pizza place. He had a black eye the last time we met. Said the person with the exact address had a scary looking boyfriend who thought he was flirting with them. He moved last we and I think I know why."

Brie's smile widen as the wobble in the other man's voice. "Hey, man... It's not cool to joke like that. If you're trying to scare me off you'll have to try harder than that."

"If that's what you want-"

Brie drops the conversation there. No point in wasting any more of his precious time - not with you standing there, pen and a small notepad in hand.

"Thank you~" Brie scribbles down his number, tearing off a page of paper beneath the one he wrote on as he hands the notepad back to you - pen still in his possession. With other matters to attend to, asking for it back was the last thing on your mind as you then turn to properly greet the other driver. Brie turns on his heels and makes his way down your driveway, checking over his shoulder as he drops the pen off the sidewalk - watching it roll by the rear bumper of the car.

"Whoops- Looks l dropped my pen."

Brie crotches down to grab the pen, eyes scanning the dented license plate as his fingers graze the pen. He picks it up, jotting down the license plate on the scrap of paper as he stands and walks off in the direction of his car.

One light broken is bad enough. He wonders how that other driver's boss would feel with all four smashed.

#Brie my oc #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere #yandere drabble #yandere male

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bikekit789 · 1 year

Text

Insulated Food Delivery Bags | BIKEKIT

BikeKit offers insulated food delivery bags that are not only perfect for delivering food but also for transporting high-quality pharmaceutical products. These specially designed bags are equipped with insulation to maintain the temperature and protect the pharmaceutical items during transportation. Whether you're delivering meals or pharmaceutical supplies, BikeKit's versatile and reliable bags are the ideal choice for ensuring the freshness and integrity of your deliveries. To make a purchase connect with us via https://www.bikekit.co/blog/shining-example-of-innovation-in-food-delivery-bags/

#Insulated Food Delivery Bags #bikekit #food delivery bags #food delivery #bags #pizza delivery bag

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biancml · 2 years

Text

Overrides List | Part One

In this list I will share some default replacement (overrides) for those who want a realistic gameplay with more details. You can find the Part 02 Here.

Kids

bassinet

infant rug or blanket

watermelon swing

baby bottle 1, 2, 3 or 4

infant bath & rubber duck

Selfcare

razor

spa nails & nail polish

towels & brush teeth

toothbrush 1, 2, 3, 4 or eletric

Random

bridge

suitcase

fireplace

umbrellas

bills & cards

fish, rabbit & cow

ceiling 1 or 2

boxing gloves & tennis

korean magazines

cars & school buss

cleaning spray & mop

paintings, brushes, pencil & photo

Kitchen

bread plate

lots storange

sponge 1, 2, or 3

cutlery 1, 2, 3 or 4

cutting board 1 , 2 or 3

pans, dishware & red cups

Foods

food stalls

bubble tea

foods 1 or 2

coffee to go

ice cream shop

delivery bag & grocery bag

coffee bag 1 or 2 & milk bottle

pizza & pizza hut box or pizza delivery

Eletronics

remote control

phone wallpaper 1, 2 or 3

phone icons

computer games & tv movies

game consoler, ps3 controller or ps5 controller

airpods, airpodspro, podsmax or airpodsmax

Phones

iphoneX, iphone7, iphone11, iphone12, iphone12cases, flip, nokia, galaxyS20, galaxynote8 or others

#simblr #ts4 simblr #ts4 #sims4 #the sims4 #overrides #ts4cc #ts4 resources #ts4 overrides #sims4 overrides #sims4cc #sims4 default #ts4 defaults #ts4 default #ts4 replacement #tips

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ortegatargaryen · 4 months

Text

Delivery Driver:

Tara Capenter x Fem!reader

Summary: you’re just a simple delivery driver. Your shift is going normal till you realise you have a pizza delivery to your crush’s house. You assume she doesn’t even know you exist, but when she invites you in she proves otherwise

Warnings: Bad writing lwk, fluff, slight smut near the end ig, alcohol use.

Disclaimer: this is my first time posting a one shot on here! So please be! I don’t mind advice just please be nice about it!

Also requests are open so please please make them!

You look at your phone as a new order goes through. You take a look at the address,

“Not too far from here” you mutter you don’t bother looking at the name of the order before walking inside the pizza restaurant.

You go into the kitchen,

“Hey Scarlett” you say, smiling at your friend, she turns to you.

“Hey Y/n! You here for another delivery?” She asks you,

“Yep! Last one of the night then I’m off” you say.

She hands you the pizza box and drinks, it’s not too heavy but it weighs your arms down ever so slightly, you put it into your delivery bag and make your way out to your motorbike.

Placing the bag securely into the compartment, you get on and put your helmet on.

You look at your phone, putting the address into your gps.

//-//

“It’ll be here soon!” Tara reassures Sam who’s been complaining about how hungry she is for the past hour. She loves her sister but when Sam’s hungry she never shuts up, she has to make sure the whole world knows, whining every five seconds that her stomach hurts.

Tara sighs and looks out the window, blocking out the sounds of Sam’s complaints, she smiles widely when a motorbike pulls up, she rushes to the door and opens it.

You look surprised when the door opens before you could even knock, you smile,

“Hi uh pizza delivery” You say, somewhat awkwardly, not fully looking at the girl, though she doesn’t look at you either, she’s too focused on the pizza,

“Yeah thank you” the short girl says, looking up at you.

You look at her, your mouth hanging open slightly. She has long brown hair, reaching just over her shoulders. freckles are scattered across her face. Her smile is spring but there’s autumn in her eyes, softly brown, with a hint of passing summer and the promise of winter dark and deep - Eyes you recognise.

“Wait…Y/n?” She asks, snapping you out of your day dream, you chuckle lightly,

“Oh my god Tara…you’re in my film class at college, right?” You ask, of course you already know the answer, she sits at the front row, second chair to the left nearest to the door.

Tara laughs and nods,

“Yeah I am, what a coincidence” she says with a short laugh.

“Yeah…I didn’t even see your name on the app” you say, handing her three large pizza boxes,

“Oh I ordered small pizza’s, these are larges…” she says, staring at the box.

“Oh…hold on” you check your phone,

“Oh it says here you ordered them in large” you say, showing her the phone, she frowns,

“Must’ve clicked the wrong button” she sighs.

“Happens to me all the time” you say, chuckling, she smiles at you,

“Well um…me and my friends probably won’t finish it all, and we’re having a kinda mini party, so if you want, you could come inside and eat with us?” She offers.

You chuckle and scratch the back of your neck,

“Um..” you take a moment to consider it, “oh fuck it why not, sure” you say.

Tara smiles and moves out the way of the door,

“You remember Mindy? She’s in our film class too, she’s here” She asks you. You both walk into the apartment together, you look around at the pictures she has up on her walls.

“Oh yeah, hey Mindy!” You greet her,

“Oh Y/n what’s up…” Mindy greets you, she gives a look with a smirk to Tara and a not so subtle wink, you raise a brow in confusion but wipe it off when Tara shows you all her friends, Chad, Mindy, Sam, Quinn, Anika and Ethan. You sit with Chad, talking about football.

“I have to admit, this isn’t how I thought my night would go” you say, taking a bite of a pizza, they all laugh,

“Sometimes the best things are unexpected” Quinn says,

“Since when did you get all wise and inspirational?” Sam jokes, making you all laugh.

Tara keeps sneaking glances of you, she can’t get her eyes off you, though that’s not out of the ordinary, she’s always like this in school.

Usually, she wouldn’t invite someone she only met a few days ago in this quickly, but something about you changed that. Maybe it was the aura you gave off. Maybe it was the way you always seemed slightly awkward whenever you talked to her, she found that adorable. Maybe it was the way your smile, which she always tried to steal a glimpse of in class, made her heart flutter or maybe she was just drunker than she thought. Probably all of the above.

“You guys have a nice apartment” you compliment,

“Thanks, we only moved in a month ago so it’s not fully furnished” Tara admits, you turn to her.

“Had a chance to look around the city yet?” You ask her, she shakes her head,

“Not yet…but I want to” she says.

You nod,

“I could take you sometime if you like, I’ve lived here my whole life so I know this place like the back of my hand” you offer, smiling hopefully.

Tara’s face lights up slightly.

“I’d like that…do you have a car?” She asks, you shake your head,

“I’ve got a motorbike though” you say.

Tara grins widely, grabbing your hands in hers,

“You have a motorbike?!” She exclaims, you chuckle at her enthusiasm and nod,

“Yeah I do…”

“Tara you’re not going on a motorbike” Sam says, Tara looks at her and frowns,

“Why?” She asks,

“Because they’re dangerous, no offence Y/n” she says, you nod understandingly.

“Sam it’s my life, you can’t just decide for me what I do with it” Tara says, your eyes widen slightly at the sudden outburst.

Tara let’s go of your hands as she starts bickering with her older sister.

“does this happen a lot?” You whisper to Chad, beside you, he nods,

“Yeah…a lot” he answers.

The girls continue to argue till eventually, Sam storms out to her room and Tara storms off into the kitchen.

“I’m gonna go check on Tara” you say to the others, they nod,

“Go get her tiger” Mindy jokes, you can’t help but blush and awkwardly scurry out the room.

You go into the kitchen and lean against the doorframe. Tara is on her tiptoes trying to reach a bottle of tequila that Sam put on the top shelf, purposely out of Tara’s reach.

“Need some help?” You ask,

“No…I can reach” Tara grumbles, she very clearly can’t reach, seeing as she’s two apples tall.

You chuckle and go over anyway, you go behind her, leaning up with one hand on her waist while the other reaches for the bottle.

You grab it and hand it to her, she smiles at you,

“Thank you…” she says, taking the bottle,

“No problem…just don’t get too drunk” you say.

“No promises” she jokes, grinning as she pours herself some. You lean against the counter, looking at her.

Your eyes trail over her outfit, the way it perfectly outlines her curves like always, she always picks the best outfits.

She once wore basic grey tracksuit bottoms and a baggy hoodie to school, yet still you’d never seen anything or anyone more beautiful. You don’t know how she does it.

Simp, is what your friends call you whenever they catch you watching Tara or whenever you compliment her.

“You good?” Tara asks, chuckling slightly at you as you gawp at her. You clear your throat, standing up straight as you nervously scratch the back of your neck,

“yeah yeah sorry, zoned out” you justify.

“Wanna go chill in my room? We can watch a movie maybe…” Tara recommends, you smile a bit at the idea and nod, a bit too eagerly,

“Yeah sure…” you answer.

After grabbing some snacks you both make your way into Tara’s room, she sets down the bowl of popcorn on her bed. She grabs the remote and turns on the tv, sitting down on her bed.

“Okay what movie?” She asks, you aimlessly walk around the room, looking at various things she has scattered around.

“um…The Babadook?” You request, her face lights up. You like The Babadook, that means more to her than you’ll ever realise.

“Yeah! I love that movie!” She exclaims, putting it on. You grin and sit down next to her,

“Yeah same…it’s so good” you say, leaning back against her headboard.

“Literally…like no other horror movies compare to it” she says, you chuckle and shrug,

“Well I wouldn’t say that” you trail on, she gasps and turns to you,

“Well what would you say is better?” She asks, you sigh and look at the tv, thinking about your answer.

“Halloween” you answer finally, her face drops into a look of disappointment, you turn to her and your eyes meet, you chuckle at her reaction, “what?” You ask.

“No way you just chose Halloween over The Babadook…” she mutters, astounded.

You let out a short laugh and shrug, turning back to the tv once more,

“I just prefer it…” you admit, you see her shake her head out the corner of your eye.

She has a small smile on her face, not an awkward smile or forced smile it’s more of a comfortable smile, like she’s happy where she is, and it‘s true, Tara has never felt more relaxed.

It was weird, though she barely knows you, but she feels as though she’s known you forever. Like you’re childhood best friends finding each other again after long separation.

With you she feels like she can be herself, she can show that geeky side of her without feeling embarrassed or worried you’ll mock her. She’s comfortable. Happy.

And she’s just realised she’s been staring at you for a solid hour, she mentally punches herself. The credits of the movie roll on the tv, you were probably so uncomfortable during that whole film. You turn to her with a smile.

But are slightly shocked when you realise she’s already looking at you, throughout the film you’ve wanted to sneak glances at her, but you’re worried it’ll make her uncomfortable. You didn’t even realise she was staring at you.

Tara quickly pulls her eyes away, clearing her throat,

“That was uh…yeah” she mutters, talking about the movie.

“Wanna watch Halloween?” You ask, she smiles a bit and nods, not speaking as she doesn’t trust her own voice. She’s so embarrassed she’ll probably blurt out something stupid.

You put the movie on, Tara focuses on the movie this time, being sure to not embarrass herself again. You on the other hand, you keep looking over at her, just like you do in school.

Your eyes flicking from the tv screen to her.

You notice something she does while watching. She has little reactions to what’s going on in the scenes, you chuckle slightly as she raises her eyebrows a bit, her mouth opens slightly when Micheal Myers brutally kills someone.

She looks at you, your chuckle gaining her attention.

“What?” She asks, realising you’re watching her,

“Nothing…just um watching your little reactions to the scenes…it’s cute…you’re cute” you say, smiling sheepishly at her.

Her ears burn red and so do her cheeks, she quickly looks down, trying to hide it making you chuckle again.

“You’ve gone a bit red” you comment, looking at her, she chuckles and looks at you,

“Shut up…” she mutters before leaning against your side, she gently rests her head on your shoulder.

Now it’s your turn to blush, and just like her, your ears go red, shortly followed by your face.

“Now you’re red…” she says into your neck,

“Oh shush…” you mutter.

Tara looks at you, with the way she’s sat, her lips are right by your neck. You can feel her warm breath against you it. Tara hesitantly moves in closer before laying a gentle kiss on your neck.

She moves away and lays down like nothing just happened, you look at her, shocked,

“Did you just kiss my neck?” You ask her.

Tara tries to hold back her laugh,

“What? No you’re hallucinating” she says, facing you.

You grin at her as she has a small smirk playing on her lips, you move closer to her, laying next to her, getting a sudden surge of confidence.

“Well good…cause if you did I would’ve told you that you missed” you say, she cocks a brow, trying to figure out what you mean.

“Huh?” She questions, you chuckle and move in closer, “how did I miss?” She asks, but instead of saying a response, you lean in, your lips meeting.

She gasps slightly but doesn’t pull away. She leans into the kiss, one of her hands going to your waist whereas one of yours goes into her hair, caressing through her it as you kiss her.

She opens her mouth slightly and you take the opportunity, sliding your tongue into her mouth, your salivas mixing as your tongue explores her mouth.

Though you keep one hand in her hair, you put the other on her waist, slowly trailing it down till your cupping her ass firmly, she lets out a quiet whimper into the kiss which only fuels you more.

Where she was laying on her side before you now push her so she’s on her back. Never taking your lips away from hers, you climb on top of her, straddling her waist.

“Oh my god ew!” A voice yells, you quickly get off of Tara, who whines in annoyance. She looks at the door to see Sam standing there, a hand over her eyes.

“Can’t you just knock?” Tara asks, frustrated, she grabs a pillow and covers her face to hide her embarrassment and the fact she’s blushing right now.

Sam moves her hand away from her eyes,

“Sorry…I was just gonna say Chad and Mindy are heading home” she says.

Tara puts the pillow back and sits up,

“Cool tell them I said bye” she says, trying to get this conversation over and done with.

Sam nods and looks at you expectingly, she clearly wants you to leave, probably not a great impression seeing you on top of your sister, making out with her.

“Uh I’m gonna go…” you say, getting up and grabbing your jacket, Tara sighs and nods,

“Alright…see you Monday” she says, sounding disappointed.

You smile at her,

“I’ll message you when I’m home” you tell her, her face instantly lights up,

“Okay…wait i don’t have your number” she says.

“Just message me on insta, we follow each other any way, I’ll send you my number then” you explain, she nods,

“Sounds good…” she says.

You lean over to her slightly, giving her a gentle peck on the lips, which she eagerly returns, following your lips for a bit as you pull away.

You smile at her one more time before walking out the room, giving Sam a polite and apologetic smile.

#jenna ortega #horror #tara carpenter #scream #scream 6 #new york #pizza delivery #motorbike #tara x reader #one shot #Tara carpenter short story

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Text

Simmer #1

CH1. Home Style | The Menu [3.7K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Jim’s Midnight Grill wasn’t the magical place the name made it sound like.

In fact, it was worse at night. Hawkins' only diner sat on the outskirts of town, just before the road that took you out alongside the cornfields. In the height of a sunny day, the water tower cast a shadow over the old building and the gas station next door only had one working pump.

The leather booths were constantly sticky, the table tops grainy with spilled salt, but if you made your visit on a Thursday night after nine, milkshakes were two for one. The back alley was littered with cigarette butts, graffiti on the walls telling you who to call for a good time— and someone called King Steve used Farah Fawcett hairspray? The regulars were permanent fixtures on the bar stools, coffee stains on the counter in front of them, stolen sugar packets in their pockets, frowns on their faces.

The staff didn’t want to be there, the owner refused to replace the flickering lights and the cook had a bad attitude and liked to communicate with heavy sighs and eye rolls. But he made a mean grilled cheese. The walk in freezer was reserved for the pitiful weekly deliveries and breakdowns, a stolen kiss or two. Or three, or four. But no one liked to tackle the clogged sink and god forbid anyone change the TV channel— Mr Creel always had something to say about it.

—————

Honestly, Hawkins wasn’t your first choice when you decided to move to a smaller place. The idea of a big city was all fine and well until you lived a year in Chicago, the dream of a brownstone apartment quickly disappearing when you realised jobs were hard to come by and finding friends was even harder. Living alone wasn’t all that fun, especially when your landlord hinted at sexual favours to justify late payments and he didn’t care to fix the leaking radiator in your bedroom. The nights were never quiet and the city hardly slept, but instead of neon lights and late night bodega runs, you lay awake on the broken spring in your bed and flinched at the sound of backfiring cars and people arguing on the street below.

It was lonely, living somewhere so big and busy and always eating dinner by yourself. So you sold the old car you didn’t really use and cried enough that your landlord eventually gave in and ripped up your lease that still had four months to go. Packing your stuff was an easy enough job, hardly enough belongings to fill the duffel bag you’d dragged with you. You dug into the back of your freezer for the wad of cash your grandma gave you, threw it into the bag and grabbed your greyhound ticket and decided you’d get off the bus when the skyline turned a little more green. When the buildings shrunk, when the smog lifted and when wildflowers sprouted from between the cracks in the sidewalk.

So you rolled into Hawkins before the day broke, way before the sun crept up over the quarry, before the small town came alive. The apartment you’d found was the same tiny size as the one you’d had in Chicago but it was cleaner and the carpet was new. Nothing leaked. Nothing smelled weird. The parking lot was filled with cars and none of them had bullet holes in the side, your trash can wasn’t on fire and god, god, the first neighbour you saw - an elderly woman who was walking with a yorkie on a leash - smiled at you.

She smiled at you.

So despite the lack of twenty four hour stores and pizza parlours, Hawkins was already looking up. There wasn’t much on the Main Street, a library, a tiny bakery run by a couple who offered you a free croissant as a welcome to town gift. There was an outdoor pool with sun bleached bunting across its chain link fence, an arcade next to a video store, a high school that was derelict due to the summer months. The larger houses across from the park were lined with cherry trees, neat lawns with white mailboxes and flowers under the windows and suddenly Hawkins was a million miles away from Chicago and the buzz of traffic and car horns.

The librarian let you print out some resumes the day after you’d settled in, and you found your way around town by asking kind strangers, buying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in exchange for directions out of your neighbourhood. It was easy to stroll along the sidewalk with an iced latte and your headphones around your neck, blue skies above you and the sound of sprinklers in their yards, breathing in air that didn’t smell like diesel. You found a man by a rundown garage, white haired and tired looking, mechanic scrubs tied around his waist as he smoked a cigarette.

You took a deep breath, and then another one, smiling politely - warily - as you approached. The man lifted a brow at you, a little suspicious, but he held the burning stub away from you, smoke billowing in the opposite direction.

“You lost, kid?”

You were. Just a little.

“I’m looking for Jim’s, uh,” you glanced down at the pink flyer that had been pinned on the library's notice board. “Jim’s Midnight Grill? I got told it was out this way, but—”

You looked around, noting that there wasn’t much out this way. The busiest part of Hawkins was behind you, tidy sidewalks giving way to long roads out of town, a lone bus stop by the garage, a farm in the distance across the street. You squinted against the sun and shrugged.

“You wanna keep going for ‘nother mile or so, it’s just before the town sign,” the man pointed further out where the cornfields were overgrown and the sun faded billboard told everyone ‘thanks for visiting Hawkins!’ You weren’t sure the bus ran that far out. “Jim should be there, but if he’s not, jus’ ask for Eddie, he’ll sort you out.”

“Eddie,” you nodded, peering into the distance. You couldn’t see another building, but this man didn’t seem like he was lying. “Right, okay. Just keep to the road?”

The man nodded and he cracked a smile, small but soft. He stubbed out the end of his cigarette and gestured to an old pick up that looked like it had seen better days. “You needin’ a ride?”

The urge to say yes was strong, especially after walking all the way from your apartment as the heat soared. It snuck up on you like a slow roll, going from pleasant to warm to too hot, far too quickly. Beads of sweat clung to your skin underneath your sundress but you shook your head, shyness crawling up the back of your neck. Accepting a ride from a stranger didn’t seem the wisest idea, no matter how kind he seemed.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “Thank you, though. I appreciate the help.”

The man smiled again, a little bigger this time, crows feet crinkling, the sunlight catching the white of his five o’clock shadow. “That’s alright, kid. Jus’ tell ‘em Wayne sent you, yeah? Follow the road, you’ll see Forest Hills - the trailer park - keep going a lil’ ways and it’s right across the road.”

It turned out Wayne was right.

You kept walking, the heat soaring, the fields on either side of you growing taller but you bit back a smile at the sight of the wildflowers that snuck through the cracks in the concrete. Eventually they gave way to a trailer park, just as Wayne side, a quaint place that hummed with generators and had lines of laundry between each mobile home. Across the road sat a sandy lot, a diner in the middle, a neon sign letting passer-bys know they’d arrived at Jim’s Midnight Grill. Except the ‘r’ was loose, hanging from its wire and buzzing blue and purple.

Cats patrolled along the roadside, going from trailer doorsteps to the back alley of the diner, hoping and waiting for a free meal that they all knew would eventually come. You stopped to pet an orange kitten, a little scruffy looking thing but cute all the same, your CV clutched in one hand as you peered suspiciously at the front of the restaurant. It looked too quiet, like it wasn’t open yet. But there was a black van parked along the side of the building and some steam leaked from a vent on the roof, so you opened the front door.

The bell jingled but the patrons at the dining bar who sat on their stools didn’t move, didn’t turn to look. The place was nearly empty, some people nursing a coffee, some staring blankly at the buzzing television screen that was mounted in the corner. No one stood at the host desk, the menus stacked messily, the phone off the hook. In fact, there wasn’t a server to be seen as you made your way to the counter. You grimaced as you leaned on the surface, elbows sticky, avoiding spilled coffee the best you could. You waited, resume still in your hand, patience on your features.

No one came.

So you rang the bell that was on the bar top for the very purpose of gaining attention, but the man beside you glared at the noise. Still, no one came. The fans overhead squeaked and whirred, the TV fizzed with bad signal and from somewhere behind the open serving hatch, you heard the clatter of pots and pans. You tried to crane your neck to see through the window, steam and smoke billowing from it, the slight shadow of maybe a person moving through it.

The person swore, dropped a skillet and swore again.

You leaned in further, elbows on spilled salt grains and drops of ketchup, trying to gain a better view into the kitchen from the bar top. “Hey, ‘scuse me? Can I— can someone—”

You huffed as the figure moved out of sight, falling back onto the stool that squeaked and the man next to you snorted into his coffee cup. You frowned and took further action, sundress falling back around your thighs as you hopped off the chair and made your way to the side of the counter that lifted up. No one paid you any mind, no one at all, but you still hesitated before ducking under the bar and hovering by the hatch. You could smell garlic and sage and something a little sweet now you were closer, the scents of the kitchen winning over the stale coffee, cigarette smoke and engine oil that clung to the patrons clothes behind you.

You peered into the kitchen, your paperwork still clutched to your chest. It wasn’t much cooler in here than it was outside, the AC unit broken and the fans working overtime to combat the heat. The kitchen seemed empty now, a stovetop still on despite no one to supervise it, flames licking high up the sides of a steel pot, big enough for you to fit both feet in. There was something inside bubbling, foam rising to the top and chopped courgette and red onions sat on the workbench beside it, abandoned. A radio played, staticky and fuzzy, an old sixties tune floating out to mix with the smoke.

“Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of man. So big and so strong, come a little bit closer, I’m all alone.”

“H-hello?” You cleared your throat and braced yourself to speak a little louder. Stronger. Braver. “Hello?”

No one answered. In fact, it seemed like the entire diner was run by ghosts, no waiting staff, hosts or cooks to be seen. Maybe you’d imagined the silhouette in the smoke, maybe the heat was finally getting to you.

“No customers back here, what d’you think you’re doin’?”

You startled, jumping back a little only to knock an elbow into a half filled coffee pot, the brown liquid thankfully lukewarm but it still spilled across the countertop, soaking into stray packets of sugar and scattered napkins.

“Oh, fuck, uh—” you grabbed at whatever dry napkins were left, hurriedly mopping up the spill before it dripped to the floor. Old coffee dotted the red and cream tiles, into the gaps between your sandals. You grimaced and looked up, only half paying attention. “Shit, I’m really sorry, I just— there was no one there and—”

You stopped, swallowing hard, cheeks hot, eyes wide. The person in front of you was half hidden behind the serving hatch, but he was scowling through the window with a ladle in his hand. Big brown eyes, unnervingly expressive and dark hair to match, unruly looking curls that were pulled back with an elastic band in a bun that wouldn’t have passed a health inspection.

A boy, unfairly pretty, and annoyed looking with tattoos peeking out from his chef whites, a black paisley printed bandana knotted around his neck. There was a furrow between his brow, lines etched there so deep that it made you think they were a permanent fixture on his handsome face.

“—no customers behind the cash desk, sweetheart, you look bright enough to understand that.”

Your mouth fell open, a burn creeping across your cheeks. Annoyance settled in your chest but you realised you weren’t quite brave enough to do anything about it. So you lifted your resume and slapped it on the hot steel ledge that separated the kitchen from the coffee bar. “No one’s working,” you tried to explain, gesturing with one hand to the empty diner behind you. “I rang the bell—”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” The boy scoffed, raising a tattooed forearm to wipe away the sheer layer of sweat from his brow. “Havin’ a spa day? Shit, no one rings the damn bell, don’t you know that?”

You scrambled for a response, the burn on your face growing hotter, an awful clawing feeling coming across your chest. You swallowed, your throat tight, but you pointed at your CV once more. “I’m here for the job opening. I need to speak to Jim? About the kitchen porter role?”

The stranger laughed, a breathy thing that you didn’t think was supposed to come across as mean as it did, but it stung all the same. You shrunk a little, a hardly seen thing as the boy turned his head to check on whatever was bubbling in the big pot. “Look, sweetheart, I don’t wanna be a dick about it, but uh, I don’t think you’re cut out for the kitchen - sorry.” He turned back to you, a slightly more apologetic look on his face instead of the frown. “You understand, right?”

You were speechless, just for a second. Blinking away the confusion, you made noise of protest as the boy started to move away. Your hand touched his bicep and he swivelled back, scowling once more. You snatched your hand away, glancing at your fingertips as if the ink from his tattoos would have stained them black.

“Sorry— it’s just, I, I need a job.” You swallowed, hoping none of the customers could hear your desperate plea. “I just moved into town and honestly, I’ll take anything, like anything. I’m supposed to talk to Jim— or Eddie?”

The boy seemed to mull over your words for a second or two, a passing of sympathy or something just as kind coming over his features. He sighed and shrugged, turning away to stir the pot before it boiled over and he shouted at you through the smoke and steam. Not meanly, just enough for his voice to be heard over the music, the hissing of the stove, the hum of the freezer. “I dunno where Jim is, sorry.”

You deflated, sliding your stack of papers off of the ledge and back to your chest. You tried not to appear too frustrated as you asked, “what about Eddie? Someone - a guy, at the garage - he told me to ask for Eddie.”

The ladle clanged against the pot, some soup - or maybe stew - spilling out the sides. The boy frowned at the mess, dragging a rag over the spots before he glanced up at you. You tried to smile, tried to tamp down the watery doe eyes you knew you couldn’t help but have on show, but you felt desperate. Leaving Chicago with nothing more than the bag on your back and no plans was suddenly seeming like an awful idea.

“Sorry,” the stranger said again. “I dunno an Eddie.”

—————

Sitting in a sticky leather booth in the corner of Jim’s Midnight Grill for another hour turned out to be worth it.

Just before two o’clock, a man walked in, greeting the same customers who were still nursing their coffees with a muttered ‘hello,’ a familiar thing that everyone grunted back at. He was a tall man, broad shouldered with a moustache and a shaved head that was covered with a battered wide brimmed hat. He looked more cowboy than business owner, checked shirt dirt covered boots and all, but you heard someone call him Jim and you were up and running after him.

Your sneakers stuck to the linoleum tiles, the ‘shtick shtick shtick’ of your soles pattering between the aisles of empty tables until you caught up with the man just before he disappeared into the kitchen. He raised his brows at your sudden appearance at his elbow, wide eyed and hopeful as you clutched the same resume you’d tried to hand the cook, the pieces of paper stained with coffee now.

The man lifted his chin to a small table before you could speak, gesturing to two chairs by the window. You startled, wondering what was happening as he pulled out a seat and pointed at you to sit in the other one.

“You’re new, right?” The man - Jim - fumbled with a packet of cigarettes, most of them crushed and bent, but he found a good one to lift to his lips. He lit it and blew smoke upwards, staining the already yellowing ceiling. “Here, in town?”

You nodded, unsure how he knew that. You guessed that news travelled fast in a place as small as Hawkins, so you decided to elaborate for the sake of talking. “Uh, yeah. From Chicago. I’m inquiring about the, um, the porter job?”

“What’s your name?” Jim leaned forward in his chair and poked gently at your forearms. “You don’t got a lot of scars, you done soft jobs? No kitchen stuff before?”

The AC unit kicked in and rattled a vent above you as you stared at the man, trying to work out what he meant. Stammering, you told him your name and passed over a resume, pointing out your last few jobs, doing your best to try and make them sound more professional than they actually were.

Librarian's assistant.

Barista. For two weeks.

Cashier at a knock off Chuck E. Cheese.

“I guess they’re what you could call, uh,” you squinted Jim, floundering for the word he’d used, “soft jobs. But I’ve got a scar on my knee from pulling a kid out of the ball pit. He’d come straight from little league, he still had his spikes on and there was a considerable amount of blood even th—”

Jim stopped your spiel by jamming a thumb back towards the kitchen hatch. You could still see the boy there, pretty and scowling all the same, a dark curl falling from his hair band to fall over his cheek. You watched him blow it away and flip something in a skillet, the sizzle of it just heard over the music, the bad TV in the corner of the bar.

“You ever worked a kitchen?”

You shook your head, stomach sinking. ‘Fake it til’ you make it,’ failed you once before, and the owner of the coffee shop in Lincoln Park quickly realised you were wasting both your times when she discovered you didn’t know the difference between a mocha and a latte. “No, sir.”

“Our line cook is real particular ‘bout who we put in his kitchen with him,” Jim pointed to the boy, who’d now been joined by someone else. Another male, one with even longer hair, sleek and dark and they seemed to be arguing over blocks of cheese. “Now I don’t think it’s a good idea to throw you in there—”

Dread bubbled in your stomach. If you didn’t manage to land this job, you weren’t sure where else to look. A small town brought on few opportunities, and you’d already exhausted most of the businesses on Main Street. “Sir, please, I—”

“—but there is a waitressing gig available.” Jim frowned as he tried to remember the details. “Full time, forty odd hours if you don’t mind doing lates.”

“Yes!” You blurted out the answer too loud, loud enough for the customers to turn away from the TV screen for a second or two. The boys in the kitchen peered out the hatch, one curious, one annoyed. “Yes, sorry, yes. I’ll take it, thank you.”

Jim nodded and stubbed out the amber end of his cigarette in an ashtray beside the sauce bottles. “Easy enough job, minimum wage, you keep any tips you make.” He listed off each point on his fingers. “You start tomorrow.”

You could only nod back, eager and grateful. “Of course, yeah, sure. Uh— do I need—?”

Jim waved you off, already standing as he lit up another cigarette. “Just come by for eight, Eddie’ll sort you out with a uniform, locker, that kinda stuff.”

You frowned, confused. Looking around the quiet diner, you wondered if there was someone you hadn’t noticed before, but the number of visible staff members remained the same. The two boys in the kitchen, the pretty cool who you’d spoken to back at the stove, tasting its contents with a teaspoon.

“Uh,” you coughed awkwardly, feeling stupid. “I thought— I thought there wasn’t an Eddie who worked here?” You pointed warily to the boy with the messy curls, the black tattoos across his exposed forearms, he was staring at you, like he knew you were talking about him. He was scowling. “He said there wasn’t.”

The noise and heat of the diner and the summer outside didn’t do anything to diminish the embarrassment you felt at Jim’s next words. His gaze followed to where you were pointing and snorted. “Kid, that is Eddie.”

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson oneshot #Eddie munson imagine #linecook!eddie

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padawansuggest · 20 days

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Boba: *bored in a meeting with some idiot in the throne room*

Communications Droid: -Your excellence, there is an urgent matter for you to attend at the entrance to the palace-

Boba: Is it another fake pizza delivery? I’m hungry and could throw a punch or two.

Droid: …it is a Jedi.

Boba: *sits up with a groan of annoyance* Open a channel with them please.

Speaker: *annoyed and familiar voice* Hey, Fett, please come get this thing, I’m so tired of picking up your shit-

Boba: Oh god, Kestis?

Cal: Yeah, dumbass! I brought your Mando back so you can deal with him and his brat. Just drag him inside, I don’t care.

Fennec: *looking annoyed at someone being rude about Djarin. Only she and Boba are allowed to do that. Sometimes Peli* *follows Boba to the entrance while their original guest is escorted out*

Cal: *standing in the shade with a passed out Din at his feet, who otherwise looks fine* I already checked him and healed his concussion, he just needs a long nap and some pain killers. I don’t actually want him dead so since I was in the system I figured you’d be a better bet than on Mandalore.

Boba: Oh my god. *has the guards bring him in to the medical ward* Wait, you said his ad too? Where’s Grogu?

Cal: Oh! Right, almost forgot. Lil bastard’s been kickin me in the ass since I shoved him in the bag- *pulls an annoyed af Grogu out of his canvass bag and holds him out by his collar like a scruffed kitten* Here. He’s been yelling at me since I found them. Annoying little brat.

Grogu: *struggling in his hold to try and bite him* Patu! ‘You have no honor and your soul will be rendered to pieces at my hands!’

Fennec: 👁️👄👁️ Kestis… that’s a /baby/…

Boba: *gently cradling the tot to his chest*

Cal: *scoffs* That baby is older than me by eleven years, he used to bully me relentlessly.

Boba: 👁️👄👁️ oh my god

Cal: *starts walking off* Anyways, I’m gonna go visit some gravesites while I’m on planet, you know, my old man used to have a place on this sand ball.

Fennec: …did he just imply that Kenobi was his father?

Boba: …I fucking hope so, my only other theory is his dad was a Skywalker. That’s… worse. God that man confuses me sometimes.

Grogu: Patu! ‘He needs to change his outfit, it’s why I kept kicking him!’

#star wars #incorrect star wars quotes #boba fett #book of boba fett #fennec shand #din djarin #grogu #incorrect Mandalorian quotes #cal kestis #ya he’s going to sit on Obi’s fake grave #him and Grogu will apologize and cuddle later they’re just annoyed rn

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featguler · 12 days

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DID YOU LIKE HER IN THE MORNING ? ! a part of ' BUZZ '.

'cause i don't know if i can compete with the former crowned head of your old ford's front seat, and the story goes you blame it on the lonely nights for it ever starting. but answer the question: did you like her in the morning?

SUMMARY : you try piecing the puzzle of jude's ex-lover together. PAIRING : jude bellingham x reader TAGS : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. insecurity, angst a little bit-ish, jude is eepy WORDCOUNT : 1,218 NOTES : first one-shot in the series wooo!! 🎉🎉 make sure to check out the series master list!! this one-shot is also inspired by lacy by olivia rodrigo and girl crush by little big town ♡ masterlist.

Jude’s previous love was a nobody.

Which is to say that no matter the amount of models he follows on Instagram, and no matter the amount of sparkling cars and glamorous lifestyle that he effectuates, Jude Bellingham is, after all, capable of feeling at home with somebody who is a nobody.

Which is to say that you sound like a fucking unbearable, out of touch, bliss-tippled piece of shit whenever you think about her in your stupid little head.

Which is to say that you have not stopped thinking about her in your stupid little head.

How she wears her hair, how she lines her lips. You memorised how often she reapplies her hand cream, how often she takes that sunstick out her bag; you know what warrants a smile from her face and what draws in a laugh.

You might be in love with her just as much as Jude was.

The girl, you learned, had little to no Instagram presence. But she is there, and not a single person on Earth aside from Jude’s inner circle—and you—know about their relationship. She was there on Jude’s private account—you had known him shortly before they separated—filling up his Instagram stories with recordings on how she is cooking him her homeland’s cuisine, how Jude was the only living man on Earth that her pedigree cat would ever let pet her.

And Jude had deleted all of their pictures together the moment they broke up; he calls it bitterness, you see it as resentment. He blocked her everywhere: he blocked her number, he blocked her Instagram account, he blocked her Spotify account, he blocked her Medium account (you didn’t even know that blocking someone on Medium is a thing you can do).

But you don’t share the same pettiness as Jude, right?

No you do not. You still go to her page, even if you don’t follow her, and scan over the love poems she still posts, studying each line and wonder if Jude is still the muse of her writing—her delicate, brittle writing.

Ultimately, your concern lies in how Jude was not the one to break the relationship off. She saw a loss of spark, she saw that fame is getting into his head. And Jude? Jude wanted nothing but forever with her. Something she could not match.

God.

It would be easier if you just mind your own business, shut the case, and not bring her up in whatever chance you got. But it would also be easier if she was not someone he had loved.

A pizza delivery man fell from his Vespa and she was the first person to help him up, he once laughed a fond reminiscence, just a few months before you get together. No one even moved an inch—I certainly did not. I have tried helping others as much as I can since then, y’know? I don’t know, man. I just think of her every time I do something nice.

How are you going to fill such a deep gap?

You accidentally saw a text from his friend one night. “I don’t like this one as much.” You didn’t need much explaining, and pretended to not see how Jude typed a quick “Fuck off????”, but you thought about that comment for a long, hard week. The same friend had pointed out earlier in your relationship that Jude had only blocked her because if he were to hear her voice once again, he would come running back to her. It was something neither of you nor Jude appreciated.

But it made you think.

Thinking sure is the root of disdain.

You stare at your bathroom mirror, and Jude snores softly in the background, lying face down with his lips parted slightly. You wonder why loving Jude Bellingham has turned you into such a narcissist: always looking so deeply into every single crook of your face, every bump and scars and pores.

You have never paid attention to yourself this much, not since forever, not since your first love in middle school.

But somehow, this is worse. Much, much worse.

It’s seven-thirty in the morning, and the sun is barely up. You step out of your bathroom and take in how he lays upon your bed, unknowing how much bigger he is than the small cranny of your apartment.

“Mornin’,” he mumbles, opening his eyes for a quick second before quickly shutting them again. You step closer, sinking the bed with one knee. “Sun’s up early, eh, love?”

“Mhm?” Your fingertips reach to travel on his hairline, fading in clarity and needing another visit to the barber soon. “Sun’s not up, Jude.”

“Jude?” He let out a disgruntled groan, eyes still closed with his hand blindly grasping for yours on his face. “Why Jude? ‘Tcha mad at me?”

The sleepiness is as thick as his accent. You laugh softly and lean in to press a tender kiss against his temple, interlocking your fingers with his, but your mind cannot help but speculate on how she had kissed him like this before, how he would sleep on her ribbon-adorned bedcover, with her Birman just in the corner, curled up on a window sill, as pretty as she was.

“Am not, baby.”

Jude hums. “What’d I do?” He asks again, but before you can answer, he snuggles deeper into his pillow rambling. “Wanna sleep on your lap, wanna cuddle—can I?”

“My love,” you coo, climbing deeper into the bed, letting him climb onto your lap, “come.”

His ear rests on your thighs and arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, holding on you tight like your air conditioner is going to blow you away.

“Not goin’ back to sleep, candy?”

“That’s a new one,” you wonder if he had used that nickname on her before. “No, baby. I’ve been up a while.”

“Why didn’tcha wake me up?”

You shrug, trying to get comfortable with being in love with him. “You look peaceful sleeping.”

He answers with a grown into your lap, pressing a soft kiss on your thigh before nuzzling into his prior position. “Wanna be awake when you are, love.”

“You need your rest,” you rub your palm along the side of his neck, stopping to move just move your thumb.

“Rest comes everyday,” he says, “I don’t get to see you everyday now, do I?”

This time, you smile. The fear is consistent—it creeps up your veins like anxiety towering and taunting your every breath.

“Well, you’re awake now” —

If he is offering his love to you, though it was once someone else’s, would it be so much of a sin just to try it? Even if he ends up hurting you, even if he ends up leaving you for something that he knew was much sweeter?

— “what would you like to do?”

“Mhm,” Jude opens his eyes, turning his head to catch your eyes.

You freeze, and her face appears in your head: how does she talk about you to her friends? How does she compare you to her? The way you do your hair, or call Jude your baby?

“Dunno, love,” he mutters. “What do you want to do?”

You trace your fingers again on his hairline, drawing down to his neck.

“What about pizza?” You suggest. “Let’s order some pizza.”

#BUZZ !#໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა : 𝑬𝑼𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑨 𝑺𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑨 #jude bellingham #jude #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #bellingham x reader #real madrid #real madrid fic #real madrid x reader #football fic #football x reader #one-shot

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