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#and his eyes... captain bambi eyes
milla984 · 2 years
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Hi....
This Spencer Ried guy that i see on your blog a lot... sorry haven't watched criminal minds yet.
Tell me something about that character. Why do you love them so much
… well, Anon, grab a chair and make yourself comfortable!
The first thing I actually liked about Spencer Reid back in the day was the fact that he’s played by Matthew Gray Gubler, so he’s definitely the perfect example of non-toxic masculinity to me.
The character is almost immediately introduced as a genius - by his own admission he’s got an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, can read 20.000 word per minute and has three PhDs (Mathematics, Chemistry, Engineering) which is enough to make me go “yes, give me more of this guy, pls”. Later on it is also revealed he holds BAs in Sociology, Psychology and he’s studying to get a third one in Philosophy. Need I say more?!
During the first season he’s only 23, meaning he’s the youngest member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) team and actually looks like a puppy. Spoiler alert: even after 15 seasons he still looks like a puppy to me and I just want to hug him and keep him safe. Why? Because he’s S O F T, caring and loves his mom and friends to pieces. They feel the same about him and he ends up being the godfather of both sons of Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau, his fellow team member; another team member, Derek Morgan (who affectionately addresses Spencer as 'kid') names his firstborn Hank Spencer - after his own dad and Reid, obviously, claiming he’s the best little brother anybody could ever ask for.
So, yeah… Spencer is a total sweetheart and has been through A LOT: his father left when he was very young and his mom sadly suffers from schizophrenia, meaning little Spencer had to care for her and was forced to commit her against her will when he was 18 (what’s truly heartbreaking to me is that she’s fully aware and immensely proud of his abilities: she loves him and when she’s not having a bad day she’s easily his biggest supporter). He’s also shown to be very empathetic towards certain unsubs (the “villains” of each episode, so to speak) especially when it turns out they’ve been victims of violence or abuse, because he himself has been targeted by bullies; in Season 3 he recalls the time his high school mates tricked him into believing the prettiest girl in school wanted to talk to him in private, while in reality the entire football team ambushed him, stripped him naked and tied him to a goalpost (it’s worth mentioning that he was about 12yo when this happened, because being a genius he graduated from high school around that age).
In Season 2 he develops an addiction to Dilaudid, after being kidnapped and tortured by an unsub; the authors of the show have a questionable habit of putting him through hell, just because, and IMHO the only instance when Spencer getting shot actually has a valid purpose is in Season 5 - Gubler dislocated his knee IRL so they needed an explanation for Reid walking around in crutches for a while.
Since I have a feeling this post could go on forever (and we don't have that much time), I’ll just throw in a few more random reasons why I love Spencer Reid: he wears his wristwatch over his sleeve. He’s a Star Wars and Doctor Who fan. He always wear mismatched socks (as MGG, the actor who plays him, does) and is often seen wearing Converse shoes. I’m biased and I know it, but to me he’s easily the best dressed character of the entire show. His apartment is a mood and very dark-academia-ish. He’s socially awkward and displays a lot of behavioral indicators he’s on the spectrum (sadly the authors never confirmed it and it’s one of the many issues I have with the writing on this show, but that’s not the place to talk about it) so I adore his mannerism: he loves to sit on desks/tables, he almost never shakes hand but greets stranger with the cutest hand-waves ever and when he’s excited about something he rambles/talks super fast and sometimes he has an adorable high-pitched squeal (Reid stans definitely knows what I mean).
Hope this answer works for you!!
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firefly-fez · 2 years
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we all love the ‘rex calls ahsoka vod’ika, ahsoka calls rex ori’vod’ headcanon and yes, of course, but consider: ‘rex and ahsoka both insist on calling the other vod’ika’ due to a long-standing argument about which one of them is technically older
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redwithjoon · 2 years
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Isn't it funny how we never talk about the age difference of Reid with literally everyone else?
Like no matter who he's shipped with theres at least a 8+ years difference between them. I mean he was 24 at the start of the show so it's not a bad thing at all but its still wild lmaooo
And I based all the ages through the cm wikia 😂😂 idk if its correct or not but derek is born in 1973 while reid was in 1981 so like yeah, 8 years difference
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
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Injured (Alexia's Version) VI
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: Alexia tries to talk to you
TW: discussions of eating disorder
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It's reminiscent of that night all those years ago when Alexia came home and was shoved against her own wall by her sister.
It's funny how history repeats itself.
Alexia, back to the wall and unable to understand why and Alba, absolutely furious, being the one to hold her there.
"Alba?" Olga shrieks, standing up from her spot on the sofa.
Alba had one of the spare keys but usually, she didn't use it. Today she had though, bursting through the door like a woman on a mission and shoving Alexia up against the wall.
Jaume never saw the first time but he's heard about it. He couldn't have lived so long in this family without finding out about what happened when he was a baby. But, still, this is the first time he's seen Tia Alba angry at Mami and he watches with wide eyes from the top of the stairs.
"She's skin and bones!" Tia Alba hisses," I watched her today! She could barely stand up!"
"I know."
"And she...Wait, what?"
"I know, Alba." Alexia is calm even though her sister still has a tight grip on her shoulders, pinning her to the wall. "We know. We're trying to work out how to help."
Alba lets go of her, stepping away. "You know?"
Alexia nods. "We know. We're just trying to work out how. She always finishes dinner."
Guilt settles low in Jaume's gut as Mami, Mama and Tia Alba start discussing your eating habits.
You'd always been a bit peckish. You were never much of a big eater.
Jaume was the opposite. He was a growing boy. He ate a lot, especially on days with football training. He hadn't thought much of you offering your food to him, grateful that he wouldn't have to rifle through the fridge when Mami and Mama left the kitchen.
The topic of dinner comes up again and Jaume lingers on the bottom step, threading his fingers together anxiously.
"She..."
The three women fall silent as he steps into the light.
"What is it, Jaume?" Olga asks.
"Mama," He says, throat bobbing and tears welling in his eyes," I didn't...She never...I didn't know, Mama."
"Didn't know what? What is it?"
"Bambi...I..."
Alexia has always been his idol. She's a legend at Barcelona, captain of the club, captain of the country. Her trophies seemed endless and so did her awards. She was a World Cup winner. One of the greatest to ever play the game.
He wanted to be like her.
Her approval meant everything to him.
"Jaume," Alexia says," What is it? About Bambi? Tell us."
"I've been eating her dinner," He admits," When you and Mama turn your backs. She gives it to me."
Tia Alba noisily blows out air, hands cradling her head and Jaume can see the heartbreak on absolutely everyone's faces.
"Thank you for telling us," Alexia says," You're a good boy, Jaume."
Jaume's throat still feels tight though and guilt still swirls in his belly. "Is she...Is she going to be okay?"
No one answers.
It's a delicate situation to work around.
Alba drops hints during your weekly lunch. Olga keeps an eye on your snack breaks after school. Alexia tries to heap more food onto your plate.
You don't notice anything wrong though, apart from the fact that Jaume is suddenly not hungry anymore. He doesn't want your leftovers.
Alexia's the one to confront you, slipping into your room as you finish up some homework.
"Hey," She says.
"Hey." You finish off your last sentence before spinning around in your chair. "What's up?"
Your room has changed since you were little.
Most of your train tracks and little sets are packed away in the attic but your favourite models still litter your shelves. Your bed has gotten bigger and the bookshelf that used to be covered in children's stories is now full of textbooks and little dancing knickknacks like dead pointe shoes or worn-through ballet flats.
A desk has been moved in for you to complete your school work and your closet is now full of clothes you wanted to buy rather than what Alexia used to want you in.
Gone is the little girl with full, round baby cheeks and in her place is a teenager who's lost weight at an alarming rate.
Alexia can hardly believe it.
"I bought us ice cream."
She waves the tub teasingly at you and you pull a face.
"Sorry, Mami," You say," But I'm not hungry right now."
You spin your chair back to your desk.
Alexia spins it back.
You huff.
"Even just a little bit?" She asks," I can't finish this all by myself."
"Jaume's always hungry. Eat with him."
Something prickles down your spine.
Mami is acting weird like she knows something about you that you don't want her to know.
You stare across at her from the bank of a river. You're on one side. She's on the other. The river rushes between you, a gaping chasm that's getting more and more dangerous as it splashes at the banks.
"I can't eat with you?"
She's pushing now and you snap.
"Why does it matter? I'm not hungry! Drop it!"
Alexia's façade drops as well.
"You've not been eating," She says bluntly.
The water laps more furiously at the banks of the river, rushing towards to a waterfall. Alexia looks at you from across the bank. You stare back at her unblinking.
"Yes..." You say, frozen in place," Yes, I have. What are you talking about?"
"Are you an athlete?"
"What?"
"Do you consider yourself an athlete?"
You scoff, standing up. Your stomach swirls as blood rushes to your head. You feel a little woozy and light-headed but you force your way through it.
"Is this your way of saying that dance isn't active enough for you? Yes! Yes, I consider myself an athlete."
"Then why aren't you fuelling yourself like one?"
Alexia's being gentle about this, trying to coax you out of the corner you've found yourself trapped in. She should have been more subtle though, she realises with a jolt, because you're seconds away from bolting.
She reaches out for you across the bank, a simple hand.
You want to take it. You want her to throw a rope across for you. Something for you to hold and clutch as you swim over to her, to safety.
But you just can't.
Safety means questions and you don't want to answer her questions. You're sure she'll hate you for what she unearths. You're sure she'll look at you and not see her daughter looking back.
If you can't be perfect for her, if you can't be perfect for yourself then you're not worth anything to her.
Jaume has common interests with Mami. He plays football like she did. He plays well like she did. He's going to be world-class like she was.
You have little in common with Alexia but it doesn't make her love you any less. She adores you. She'd drop everything to make sure you're alright.
She doesn't care if you're not perfect. She doesn't care if you decide to quit ballet altogether. She just wants you to be alright.
But you just don't believe that.
You need perfection in yourself. You assume Alexia needs perfection from you as well.
She's staring across the bank from you, arm still out.
You reach for it but the river has gotten more aggressive. The mud on the bank is slippery.
You go straight in.
You try to inflate your lungs but all you can do is breathe in icy cold water as you're battered against the rocks.
You look at Alexia, still holding a tub of ice cream.
She looks at you.
You bolt.
Out of your room. Down the stairs. Out the door and down the street.
Alexia would run after you but she knows. She knows you so well. You'll just run from her and you're much fitter than she is right now. You'd get away quickly.
If she lets you go now then she'll at least know where you're going.
If she runs after you then you could go anywhere.
You're scared. Alexia has scared you.
It's a difficult conversation to have so Alexia lets you run. You need time to calm down, to prepare for this.
She's not happy. She can't be happy when you are starving yourself for reasons still unknown but she can be content with her decision to let you go for now.
You'll have run to somewhere you feel safe.
Alexia can be content.
Or, she's content for a few hours until she gets that call.
"Is this Alexia Putellas?"
"Yes?"
"Hi, I'm just calling because you're put down at y/n's emergency contact? I'm afraid she's passed out in one of the practice rooms."
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leaderwonim · 7 months
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✴︎ THE MONSTER’s GONE, HE’S ON THE RUN, AND YOUR BOYFRIEND’s HERE.
pairing. lee heeseung x fem!reader
genre. established relationship, zombie apocalypse au, ANGST, fluff then and there, high sch!au (they’re seniors), mentions of dying and being bitten
synopsis. when it comes down to it, will lee heeseung protect you like he had promised in the beginning of your relationship?
author’s note. This one is a long one and I lwk felt my heart being ripped apart as I finished the ending 🙁 the scene where he sings to her is based off of the scene from “Beautiful Boy” where Nick’s father sings to him. I kind of envisioned Y/n and Heeseung as Cheongsan and On-jo so do whatever you want with this information!
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Lee Heeseung was the perfect boyfriend. He was athletic, tall, and most importantly of all, loving. He wasn’t afraid to show you how much he cared about your relationship.
Being the captain of the hockey team came with a lot of perks. For one, no one was able to yell at him for always giving oogly eyes at you during practice, and no one dared say a word when Heeseung would stop in the middle of his laps to talk to you.
“It’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” Ha Kyungmi, the girlfriend of your cousin and Heeseung’s friend, Sunghoon, perched herself right next to you in the stands.
“Heeseung gave me his jersey.”
Kyungmi smirks, letting her hands feel the material of the jersey you have on. “You lucky bitch!” She says, making you giggle. “Heeseung’s never lent someone his jersey before, that’s how you know he’s serious.”
“That’s good to know,” your eyes look back into the ice, seeing your boyfriend and Sunghoon competing to see who was the fastest.
“You hear that breakout that’s been happening in Busan?” Kyungmi digs in her sweater pockets, pulling out her phone. “It’s reaching Seoul. My mom told me about it yesterday.”
You read over the article that Kyungmi shows you on her phone, something about a deadly outbreak that’s been contaminating the people of Korea. It had started in Busan, and it was making its way to Seoul now.
“Hey!” The voice of your boyfriend makes you snap out of your daze. Heeseung makes his way towards you along with Sunghoon, pulling off their skates as they tossed it against the wall.
“You look pretty,” Heeseung leans in to give your cheek a sloppy kiss, one that has Sunghoon pretending to gag at. “What are you gagging at Hoon? As if that’s not you and your girlfriend all the time.”
Sunghoon raises his hand in mock surrender, interlocking his hand with Kyungmi. “It’s weird seeing you kiss my cousin dude!” He says. “We’re gonna go to the cafeteria if you guys want to meet us there later.”
You glance at your phone, realizing there was only 15 minutes of lunch left.
“Sure, we’ll meet you there man.” Heeseung gives Sunghoon a pat on the back before intertwining his hand with yours, pulling you closer to him despite already being in close proximity.”
“Were you cold?” He asks, concerned bambi eyes making you bite your lip.
“No I wasn’t Seungie.” You lean your head on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing your fingers as the two of you stayed in silence for a bit. “We should probably meet with Sunghoon and Kyungmi before lunch ends.”
“Yeah.” The two of you stand up, making your way out of the ice rink. Thankfully for your growling stomach, your school’s cafeteria was only a few meters away.
“There they are!” Kyungmi waves the two of you over, “I told you buying 2 extra sandwiches was a good idea!”
“Okay okay, sorry baby.” Sunghoon says. “Took you guys forever.”
“It was 5 minutes Hoon,” Heeseung rolls his eyes, thanking Kyungmi as she passed you two your sandwiches. “I really don’t want to go to Ms. Jung’s class. She’ll be the death of me.”
Suddenly, there’s a scream, one that is so horrid that it makes your boyfriend drop the glass cup of orange juice he was holding.
“What’s happening?!” Heeseung says, standing up immediately. He wraps his arm around your waist, eyes widening when he sees students panicking all around.
“Quick, Mr. Jeon’s class is nearby!” Sunghoon pulls the three of you towards a classroom. Inside was about 10 other students, whom of which looked like they were on high alert.
“Yah,” one of the guys said, suddenly standing up. You recognize him as Yoo Hanbin, one of your classmates from biology during your tenth year. “Are you guys bitten? Show us your neck and arms.”
“Bitten?” Heeseung scoffs, pulling you closer to him.
“They don’t know what’s happening Hanbin.” One of his friends says calmly. “They’re probably just scared like us. Close the door, hurry.”
Hanbin snarls, but he obliges. He ushers the four of you in, closing the door in a rush. He then places the teacher’s large wooden desk against it with the help of the other students.
“What’s going on?” Kyungmi asks, flinching when a sudden bang comes from the door.
“Quick! Move more desks!” Despite not knowing what the hell was happening, you helped Hanbin and the others place all the desks against Mr. Jeon’s room.
“There’s an apocalypse,” Hanbin’s friend answers after you all catch your breath. “Haruto.” He introduces himself after.
“Apocalypse?” Heeseung’s grip on your hand is suddenly tighter. “What? You mean like a zombie apocalypse Haruto?”
“I didn’t believe it either,” Hanbin slides his body down against the wall tiredly, lifting up his sleeves to show you his arm. “At first.”
It was bloody and looked like it hurt badly.
“I was in the piano room when it happened. Seolhee’s cries were all I could hear before I heard them. Their growls.” Hanbin shakes his head, looking down at the ground. “I tried saving her—but I couldn’t. One of them tried to bite me before I slashed them across the face with the piano chair. I ran so fast that I fell on the way to Mr. Jeon’s room, that’s where the cut came from.”
You can’t help but send the poor boy a look of pity, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden information.
“Is this about the outbreak?” Kyungmi suddenly speaks up. “The one we read about, remember Y/N? Is it the one from Busan causing all of this?”
Haruto solemnly nods, and that’s enough for you to let out a small cry.
Heeseung wraps his arms around you, letting you bury your head into his chest. “Sh, it’s alright.”
But it wasn’t.
You and Heeseung huddle up together against one of the corners of the room alongside Kyungmi and Sunghoon, trying to generate as much heat as possible.
With the whole city in ruins by now, you knew electricity would be gone soon, you just hoped it would be gone in the morning instead of night.
“We’re almost out of water.” Haruto says, getting up suddenly. One of the girls, who you recognize as Ryujin gets up with him.
If you weren’t stuck in a zombie apocalypse, you would’ve gushed over how much they complimented one another. Ryujin was the star tennis player who looked like she hated everybody, but the way she looks at Haruto showed that she more than tolerated him.
“You seriously aren’t thinking..?” Ryujin pulls Haruto back by his arm. “You can’t go by yourself to get water!”
“I’ll go with him.”
For all the years you’ve known Sunghoon, he’s never been as brave as he was now. You could tell Kyungmi was scared out of her mind, grabbing onto his hand as her lips quivered.
“It’s too dangerous! We’ll live without water for now!”
“Don’t be ridiculous baby,” Sunghoon gives her a comforting glance. “Me and Haruto will go, we’ll come back soon.”
“If he’s going, I’m going too.” The emotions Ha Kyungmi felt earlier now transferred to you. You shake your head, not letting Lee Heeseung’s hand fall from yours. “Y/N, please. Sunghoon’s my best friend, I have to.”
But I’m your girlfriend, you wanted to say.
As much as it hurt you, you knew you had to let Heeseung go. The risks were high, but you knew the rest of your classmates were thirsty to death and needed water as soon as possible. You couldn’t be selfish and beg your boyfriend to stay in front of all of them.
“Be safe.” You say, standing up to cup Heeseung’s face. “Please. Protect yourself first.”
He nods, wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes.
“Promise me, Heeseung.” You whisper.
“I promise.”
You let go of Heeseung reluctantly, watching as him, Sunghoon, and Haruto all slowly push aside the desks, opening the door as slowly as possible.
The growls were less prominent than they were a few hours earlier. You didn’t even want to look through the window to see how many zombies were downstairs at your school’s entrance.
As soon as they’re gone, a boy comes and sits himself right next to Kyungmi and you, giving a small smile.
“You okay Kyung?”
You find it weird how close he’s being with Kyungmi, and even weirder that he waited till Sunghoon had left.
“I’m fine Eunwoo,” Kyungmi replies, slouching against the wall. “Are you okay?”
You turn your head back around, not wanting to eavesdrop on your friend. You prayed and prayed that Heeseung would be kept safe when he was going to get water. You knew where the boys were going—Mrs Ahn’s room. She was the only teacher who kept giant packs of water bottles in her class for students who were thirsty. You hoped Mrs. Ahn was still alive.
“They’re going to Mrs. Ahn, aren’t they?” Ryujin asks, sitting herself next to you.
“They are.” You turn to make eye contact with her, surprised to see a purple bruise near her eye. “What happened to you?”
“Zombies.” She grins, although she knows it’s no time for jokes. “I only made a fuss earlier because Haruto was the one who saved me. Despite being quiet, he really knows how to fight off zombies.”
“Hey,” you get closer to her, almost whispering now. “What do you know about Eunwoo over there?”
Ryujin raises her eyebrows, placing her sight on Eunwoo who was talking to Kyungmi up close. “Has had a crush on Ha Kyungmi for over a year now. I see them sometimes.”
Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting such a response. Before you could say anything back, Heeseung and Haruto quickly rush into the room, slamming the desks back onto the door.
“Seungie?” You and Ryujin rush over to help them. They had 2 packs of waters in their hands, letting it drop on the ground along with their knees as they tried to catch their breath.
“I—I—” Heeseung seems choked up, his eyes teary and red. “I tried to help him—I really did.”
Your jaw practically drops knowing full well what Heeseung was implying. Park Sunghoon was nowhere to be found, not behind him, not behind Haruto.
“They came so quickly, we panicked and we just ran and I—” Haruto is unable to finish his sentence when you let out a scream, your body scumming to the floor.
“My cousin’s dead?” You sob out, clutching onto Heeseung’s bloody blazer when he comes down to hug you.
“I can’t believe it,” Kyungmi’s mouth goes dry and she turns over to hug Eunwoo, who rubs her back comfortingly.
You’re too distraught to even question why she was in another guy’s arms right after your cousin, her own boyfriend, just died.
“I’m sorry,” Heeseung repeats over and over again, letting you cry into his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault,” you sniffle. “Tell me he died a quick death. Tell me it wasn’t painful for him Hee.”
“He fell out the window,” Heeseung says, a few tears escape his eyes. “They backed us up into a wall and Sunghoon fell out an open window. We heard a loud slam and when we looked, he was already dead.”
You sob even louder, making Heeseung’s hold on you tighten.
When you finally catch your breath and pull away, you notice how Heeseung has scratches all over his face.
“Oh Seung,” you say, tracing your fingers over them. “It must really hurt.”
“It feels fine when I’m with you.”
The both of you lean against the cushion that’s propped against the bookshelf in Mr. Jeon’s room, your head laying against Heeseung’s shoulder as you both hold each other’s hands tightly. You felt like Heeseung would disappear if your grip loosened.
“Your lip,” Heeseung suddenly says, letting his index finger touch your lips, which were chapped and bleeding.
“It’s fine,” you brush him off, but he shakes his head, reaching into his pocket for something.
“Here, I have your chapstick.” He pulls out your strawberry flavored chapstick, the one that you always bought before the apocalypse had happened.
“Where’d you get this?” You breathe out.
“I always keep a spare one in my pockets because I know you,” Heeseung smiles down at his lap. “I knew it would come in handy.”
Your eyes softened at his words, one hand coming to hold his chin as you lean in to give him a long kiss.
“Thank you Seungie,” you say as you pulled away. “For everything.”
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You suddenly jolt up from your sleep, face covered in cold sweat.
“Hey, hey, everything’s okay.” Heeseung whispers to you.
You take in your surroundings, making out Hanbin and Haruto’s figures guarding the doors and the rest of the students in the class asleep.
You had your head on Heeseung’s lap, your body sprawled along the cold tiled floor of Mr. Jeon’s class.
“How long have I been out?” You ask groggily, trying to squint at the dark clock on the wall.
“Just two hours.” Heeseung sighs. “The growling stopped for a bit. It’s eleven now. You should sleep more.”
You shake your head, disagreeing. “No Seung, you should sleep. I could watch over for a bit with Hanbin and Haruto.”
Heeseung bites his lip, almost as if he was really debating whether or not he should be sleeping right now.
“Seung, please. You need your energy.”
Heeseung agrees hesitantly, letting you switch places so now his head was on your lap.
“Goodnight Hee.” You say, placing a tender kiss on his forehead.
He smiles back at you, closing his eyes as he let sleep consume him.
Your eyes search around the room, focusing on Kyungmi and Eunwoo sleeping on one another.
Before you were too distraught to care about them two, but now that everything was calm, you really took in the situation.
Ryujin’s words rang in your ear like a mantra. Eunwoo liked Kyungmi for over a year now.
Does that mean.. ?
No, it couldn’t. You knew Ha Kyungmi. She was a sweet girl to you for the most part, she wouldn’t do that to your cousin.
Would she?
“They’re here.” You hear Hanbin whispering. His voice was filled with dread and fear, and your worst suspicions were true.
The zombies had reached your classroom.
“EVERYBODY! UP!” Haruto yells, clumsily turning on the small light that was still working in the room. “WE HAVE TO MOVE! QUICK!”
Heeseung wakes up with a grunt, his arms automatically reaching for your waist as if it was a natural reflex.
“They’re here?” He asks, squinting a bit at the bright light.
“Yes, let’s wake the others.”
You two start tapping your classmates awake.
“There’s a window we can climb out of.” Hanbin points at the window that was half covered by the cushion you and Heeseung had laid on earlier. “It’s not a big drop so we’ll survive it. It’s our only escape.”
Your classmates all start talking at once, some unsure of Hanbin’s plan.
“We don’t have much time!” Ryujin exclaims. “Quick! Climb out!”
A few of your classmates help each other get out of the window carefully, cheering silently when it works successfully.
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold them off.” Haruto says, the desks being pushed out by the bangs of the zombies on the door.
“Kyungmi! Let’s go!” Eunwoo grabs the girl’s hand, pulling her towards the window.
“Eunwoo—but—Y/N?!” She turns to face you, who was currently helping the boys hold the door against the zombies. “Y/N!”
“Just go Kyungmi!” You yell, watching as Eunwoo helps her get out first.
“We’re going to have to let go and make a swift run for it,” Hanbin says to the three of you. “A broken arm or leg will be better than dying at the hands of these creatures.”
Haruto closes his eyes, nodding slowly at his friend’s words. “On a count of three.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three!”
The four of you let go, the zombies automatically piling into the room as soon as you do.
Haruto and Hanbin are quick, climbing out and jumping onto the ground in a swift second.
“Cmon Heeseung! Y/N!”
Heeseung climbs out first, foot barely making it out the window before one of the zombies have got you.
“Y/N!” He screams, hands gripping onto the window as he tries to reach for you.
“Heeseung! It’s not worth it!” Kyungmi shouts, “they’ve already got her, she’s gonna die anyway, it’s not worth it.”
Heeseung’s vision goes red at this. “I don’t fucking care Kyungmi! Unlike you, I actually love my girlfriend to death and would do anything for her!”
His words have her cowering in embarrassment, Eunwoo wrapping a protective arm around her.
“Yah you fucker!” Eunwoo yells. “You want to be with your girlfriend so badly? Then die!”
He and Kyungmi run off to find shelter, the only two who were left were Hanbin and Haruto.
They were silently begging Heeseung to drop it with their eyes, telling them that it wasn’t worth it.
“Cmon Heeseung man,” Haruto says croakily. “You’ll die.”
“Then I’ll die with her.” Heeseung whispers. He watches as one of the zombies bite you, making you scream out in pain.
The zombies all make their way to another classroom when they realize you’re the only one, and since you’ve already been bitten, you were no longer desirable to them.
Despite knowing he would most likely die if he did it, Heeseung climbs back into the room, pulling you into his arms as he did many times before.
“Hey, hey.” He chokes up as he pulls you closer. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s—okay.” You reassure him, eyes slowly turning red as your twitching hands come up to touch his jaw. “Will you sing to me Heeseung?”
You had always joked before that Heeseung would become a famous singer in the future, his beautiful voice entrancing you whenever he’d sing or hum a song.
“Of course.” He gulps, eyes becoming blurry from the tears as each second pasts.
“The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your boyfriend’s here.” Heeseung’s lips tremble, unable to hold in his emotions any longer. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.”
He holds you in his arms despite your twitching body, knowing any second you would turn into one of them. He watches as the light from your eyes disappear, and your skin turns green and veiny.
Lee Heeseung doesn’t cry a lot. He believed that crying wasn’t going to fix anything.
But as he watched the Y/N he loved disappear from his arms despite being physically there, he sobs and sobs. Despite knowing it won’t do anything, he pulls your body onto his, hands on the back of your head as he begs the world to silently bring you back.
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ronearoundblindly · 1 month
Text
Safety Captain (1)
lifeguard!Steve Rogers x vacationer!Reader (see series)
Summary: A very sexy man shows up at a very unsexy moment during your vacation.
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Warnings for mild language, other guests being as thirsty as Reader, and a vague injury/danger. WC 1945
Written for @bigtreefest's Summer Lovin' 300 follower celebration (I'm very late tho 🥲), using the prompts “it hurts when I ___” “then stop doing that” and pool/resort/hotel. There will be a few small parts to this with eventual smut; this is just the meet-cute sorta.
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If you consider drowning a peaceful and relaxing experience, then your trip’s going splendidly.
Water hitting your lungs stings much worse than sunscreen in your eyes, but the shock makes you gasp anyway. Your skin feels pressure everywhere. You don’t know which way is up. The world is bright and blue and shimmering until an arm encircles and yanks you backward by your chest—your bare chest, you realize, since the cups on your bathing suit top flipped when you hit the the pool at such a steep angle.
Once at the surface, a gift and a curse greets you, garbled hum replaced by a solid slap of screaming, the blare of whistles. Light burns, water burns, air burns.
Oh yes, this is going swimmingly.
You struggle to get enough fresh hell anyway, coughing out water, air stinging worse. Your limbs contract to fight the pain, but the wall of muscle behind you is unyielding.
“Out of the way,” a deep voice shouts close to your ear. “Buck, make me some room. Get them back.”
He—whoever he is holding you so firmly and safely—moves you to the shallow end’s stairs with heaving strokes, and just when he releases your body to lift you out of the water, he quickly flicks the front of your suit back into place.
Bless you, kind sir. You’re in love…
…or maybe that’s the hypoxia.
Unceremoniously hauled to solid ground, you continue to sputter.
“It’s alright. I got ya. Breathe for me. That’s good.”
Your sunglasses are gone, so you squint up in his shadow to see nothing but a halo of dripping gold hair. Then your eyes adjust. You see him.
Suddenly, the world is bright and blue and shimmering again, all contained in the stare of your sweet savior.
When he smiles, well, you need even more air to recover.
You’re on your side until he’s sure all the water is out of you, until his hands help you sit up, looky-lous everywhere being herded farther off by two more lifeguards and some resort security.
“The boys…” you rasp out.
“Everyone’s okay,” he rushes, rubbing your back, warm and slick against your wet skin. “You don’t have to talk yet. Take it easy.”
You still feel compelled to explain.
“The—they were teasing him—“ you point to the chubbier kid in your group, the poor thing cowering by your lounge chair headquarters for the morning “—and I tried to stop them.”
“I know, shhh, I saw. Just breathe slowly.”
“Don’t like bullies,” you cough out anyway.
The lifeguard at your side grins from ear to ear, quickly interrupted by a girl shoving your sunglasses in his face.
“I found these,” she announces, elated. “I thought it was important since you were so brave, saving someone who fell in.”
You didn’t fall; you were pushed. There’s a difference.
The lifeguard’s smile turns tight, but he gestures for the girl to hand them over to their rightful owner. She continues to stare with huge, bambi eyes.
Politely, he takes them from her and clears of his throat.
“Thank you. Now step back please.”
Her disappointment is palpable before his blue gaze returns to you. As he asks if you’re ready to move, his palm lands on your lower back and stays there supportively.
The best you can do is shift your legs beneath each other and then hiss, “it hurts when I put weight on this leg. I think I twisted my ankle on the way down.”
“Then stop doing that,” he chuckles, swooping to get his arms under you and carry you to your lounger—the right one, immediately, as if he saw the boys fighting but knew exactly where you were before then, too.
The stout little thirteen-year-old who’d been picked on steps up to you with guilty eyes. He’s one of your charges today while the other adults all drink at the swim-up bar.
“I’m sorry they—“
“It’s fine,” you croak.
“—but they wouldn’t stop, and I told them to—“
“Hey, hey,” your lifeguard whispers, deflating the boy’s panic, “she’s gonna be okay. Just a little banged up, but we got the best of the best coming to help.”
Shamefully, the boy’s eyes turn down. “Sorry they called you a ‘bitch.’”
Great. Yeah. That needed to be repeated.
“Don’t worry about it. Can you go grab your cousin and—“ a brief wheeze overtakes you “—the girls and bring everyone back here so I know where you all are? Just a real quick check-in.”
He nods and runs off, almost plowing into a woman heading straight for you.
“Ah, your nurse has arrived.” The handsome, dripping wet man sitting with a hand still on your knee beams. “The best of the best, as promised.”
The older blonde lady purses her lips and rolls her eyes, ticking her head to the side. “Scoot, Steven. Let me have a look.”
He—Steven, apparently—rambles off what happened and what you mentioned hurt, standing out of the blonde’s way, but leaning over her shoulder, hovering while she manipulates your ankle.
“Thank you, darling.” She looks up pointedly. “I’ve got it from here,” she says, turning back to you. “I’m Sarah, dear. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”
“I’m Steve,” your lifeguard interjects as he backs away. “Glad you’re alright, Miss…?”
You introduce yourself in return. “Thanks for…um…” You glance down and tug at the front of your swim suit, remembering that this man might have already seen and touched your breasts. “Thank you,” you finish weakly, voice hoarse.
Steve beams again before Sarah swats him away.
While she wraps your ankle and anchors a bag of ice to it, you scan the guard towers to realize all three of the guys on duty are ripped, but Steve is…well, he’s something else.
“God, he’s gorgeous,” you sigh aloud without realizing.
Sarah snorts, muttering, “he gets that a lot.”
You smile, thinking it’s probably no secret that the cute guy gets around. “Bit of a man whore, is he?” you joke.
The nurse looks up at you sternly. “I should hope not! I raised him better than that.”
Shit.
Your face drops, a harsh and painful swallow globs down your throat, and you…just objectified that poor man to his mother who he so sweetly called ‘the best of the best.’
Is drowning totally off the table, or can you revisit that?
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—I—I just meant—“
She squeezes your hand, putting you out of your misery.
“It’s fine, dear. He is handsome, and I suppose there’s no harm in looking.” She packs away the last of her gear only to catch Steve’s eye across the pool.
He waves in your direction.
Sarah chuckles but doesn’t wave back. You put a quick hand up and mouth ‘thank you’ even though he probably can’t see that part.
“Well,” the nurse adds, “seems you aren’t the only one looking.”
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Having one foot twice the size of the other can work. You can make it work. You’ll just camp out on a beach towel farther up the shore, no problem. The whole party is together today, day three of seven, so the good news is that you aren’t responsible for anyone. Also, your foot is only that size due to bandaging and not because it’s that swollen. Still hurts though.
In addition to a wicked limp, you need a relatively hard surface to sit on or stand up from. You end up on the rim of damp sand, wriggling to get comfortable. You try laying on your side, propped up on a bent arm. You try your stomach. You’re about try your back, reaching for one of the kids’ towels to roll up as a pillow when you notice a group playing volleyball.
Must be fun to, like, walk and stuff.
You sigh.
It’s fine. You are lucky enough to be on this trip in the first place, your ticket paid for by all the parents combined (with the agreement you’ll help wrangle the younglings for periods while the moms and dads do adult activities). The ‘job’ is a wildly fair trade since the families only split so far was the pool yesterday.
Is that…is one of the volleyball players waving at you?
You look over your shoulder, but there’s only the rest of your group, splashing and running through the surf. No one is facing you or the game.
As you turn back, starting to raise your hand, you see the golden glow of the player’s hair and think that sure resembles the lifeguard, Steve, from—
The guy waving at you gets hit, hard, by a spiked ball and stumbles back. Some commotion rumbles through the group, but you can’t hear specifics.
Shit, that is definitely Steve, son of Sarah, employee of the pool, jogging toward you. Are your tits covered?
You awkwardly pull yourself upright, shielding your eyes from the partially-overcast, bright sky, and smile.
“Hey,” Steve chirps, “thought that was you.” He is, again, in naught but board shorts and beauty.
“Yup, living the dream.”
He ignores your sarcasm and asks how your ankle feels (“meh”), if it’s messed with your plans so far (“had to bow out of zip lining this morning”), and if he might be welcome to sit with you for a while.
You blink a few times in shock behind dark sunglasses. “Won’t your friends…?”
He shakes his head, hair falling into his face, and drops down to the sand.
“I don’t see why not,” you say after he’s made himself comfortable.
When the littlest girl from your group comes shrieking over, bucket and scoop in her hands, you’re about to apologize for the interruption, but Steve immediately offers to help her build the castle of a lifetime.
He is sure to warn her to be careful around your foot.
This time, when you mouth ‘thank you,’ he sees it and returns another beaming grin.
Alright, perhaps vacation is looking up.
Steve is…very, very good at strategizing the sandcastle. After the first ‘tower’ goes up, the other kids get involved. Before you know it, the parents are all behind you gushing over how good your friend is with them.
"Handsome, too."
"Lots of energy."
"‘Bout your age, isn’t he?"
They aren’t quiet enough to not be heard which is clearly the point once the mother of bucket girl shouts out that Steve should join you all for dinner.
Oh, sweet holy—
“Not sure I wanna dive into your family time, ma’am,” he says politely, encouraging some water be brought up for the moat they’ve just dug.
“Then you should take our lovely girl here out. Show her more of the island.”
You glare daggers at the other woman who just chimed in.
“I can’t walk,” you bite out. “Where am I gonna go?”
Steve clears his throat to get your attention. “They line food trucks over on the west road until late, and…” his lip pinches to the side “…I can carry you.”
One of the dads darkly drawls, “like a fucking princess,” and you hear a sharp slap from his wife in annoyance.
Steve’s gaze remains locked on yours as the parents erupt in obvious innuendo.
“Could be fun,” he admits, only loud enough for you. “How about it? Getting hungry?”
All you manage is a nod before a bucket of water is tossed on Steve, and he chases the culprit down the beach and into the clear blue sea.
You’ll have to wait until the ‘monster’ is vanquished by the ecstatic children jumping to take down the big, strong man you, apparently, have a date with.
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[Next Chapter]
[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
A/N: Apologies that this isn't the whole dang thing. With how long everything has been taking me to write, I was afraid it wouldn't even be summer anymore, and if there is even a small chance that posting this will light a fire under me to finish, I am willing to try.
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nhlclover · 6 months
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𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐃 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒
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word count: 2.11k
summary: luke, captivated by your vibrant spirit, finds himself torn between his deep feelings for you and the fear of settling for casual flings
warnings: angst, swearing, brief nsfw content (nothing explicit), happy ending :)
notes: based on 'she's not afraid' by one direction. underrated song tbh
Luke was drawn to you like a moth to a flame.
Across the bar, your smile lit up the room, laughing at something that Jack was telling you. You were a beacon of light in any room you walked into, your laugh capable of melting even the coldest of hearts. You exuded an infectious enthusiasm for life that drew others to you effortlessly, Luke included.
Your paths crossed often as you found yourselves frequenting the same bars. The first time you met, Luke was drawn in by your vibrant spirit. He was constantly amazed at the way you were seemingly not afraid of anything, as well as your endless enthusiasm for even the most mundane things.
You, on the other hand, admire the youngest Hughes brother. His kindness towards others has you weak in the knees, and his easy charisma and charming smile captivated you from the minute you saw him.
The connection you two had was intense, yet complicated. Despite Luke’s deep feelings and the very obvious chemistry that fizzed between you, there was a barrier. A wall put up around your heart.
You were a free spirit, not one known to be bound by the constraints of a relationship. And the thought of settling down with someone scared you. Every time Luke brought up the two of you potentially being something more, you backed off. You kept an arm's length between you and Luke.
Despite your differences, you couldn’t stay away from each other. Your nights were filled with laughter, stolen glances, and heated encounters that left you both breathless. However, as the days went on, your tryst continuing, Luke found himself yearning for something more, something beyond the fleeting moments you shared.
Catching his eye across the room, you made your way through the crowd to him, apologizing to the bodies you bumped in the crowd. “Dance with me.” You grin, taking his hand in yours.
Luke chuckles, shaking his head. “Not happening.”
“Oh come on.” You groan, pulling him towards the dancefloor. “No one is even watching.”
That wasn’t true. His brother, his captain, and almost all his teammates were watching the bubbly Jersey girl they’d grown to know attempt to get the human equivalent of bambi on ice that was Luke Hughes to dance in public. You pulled him straight to the middle of the crowd, letting the music find you.
You moved with grace and abandon, your movements fluid and carefree. Everything you did was somehow graceful yet carefree. You didn’t think, you just did. He envied your reckless abandon. You didn’t care that others were staring, you weren’t afraid to be unabashedly yourself. Luke, on the other hand, felt like a puppet with tangled strings, his limbs stiff and awkward. He could feel the eyes on him, he could hear his teammates laughing.
You shook your head at his uncoordinated attempts at dancing, the self-consciousness seeping off of him. “You’re too stiff… relax.” You say, bringing your lips to his ear. “I know you can move your hips.”
Luke admired you as you threw your head back, laughing at your subliminal comment. With your guidance, Luke attempted to loosen up, to let the music wash over him and carry him away just as it had done to you. Slowly, tentatively, he began to move in time with the rhythm, his movements becoming less rigid with each passing moment.
“There it is.” You grin. Your arms snake around his shoulders, his hands settling on your waist.
You found a rhythm, swaying together. The world around Luke seemed to fade away, finally enjoying the moment as he got caught up in your infectious joy.
Despite his enjoyment, Luke could only dance for one song before his teammates reminded him of their presence with their hollers and whistles.
“Way to go, Lukey boy!”
“Okay, Don Juan!”
You returned to your table, flushed with excitement. "You know, Luke, you're not so bad on the dance floor after all."
Luke grinned, feeling a surge of affection. Before he knows it, Luke is paying your tabs, getting ready to leave with you. It’s your typical routine, always heading home with one another after a night out.
As you stagger out the front doors, the cool night air washed over you, a refreshing welcome after being in the stuffy club all night. You walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand, your laughter echoing in the empty streets. However, as you walked, Luke felt the knot of uncertainty tightening in his chest.
The ride up in the elevator is silent, you tucked under his arm humming the song that you danced to earlier. Luke's mind races with doubt. While Luke yearned for something more, he was just about to stumble into yet another fleeting moment.
The front door shuts behind Luke, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. “Y/n, I…” He began, voice faltering.
Before he could continue, you placed a finger on his lips. "Shh, Luke. You don't have to say anything."
You drew him close, connecting your lips, enveloping him in warmth. Luke's arms instinctively wrap around your waist, picking you up off the ground and carrying you over to the couch. Laying you down softly, Luke situates himself above you, dropping a knee between your legs. His hand trails up from your waist, up your torso, cupping your breast and giving it a light squeeze.
The soft, desperate moan you let out had him straining beneath his boxers. Briefly, Luke thought that maybe it was fine. He didn’t need to define this. He was comfortable with the casual flings, knowing you made each other feel so good.
No. That’s his dick heart thinking. His brain takes the reigns, snapping him back to reality. Luke knew he couldn't continue living in the shadows of uncertainty, pretending that he was fine with your relationship being nothing more than casual flings.
Luke’s lips detach from yours, leaving you hanging on the edge. Your eyes flicker open, scanning Luke’s face. His mouth is ajar like he’s on the precipice of saying something, eyes soft as he looks down at you.
“What’s wrong, Luke?” You ask, reaching for his face.
He suddenly pulls out of your reach, standing up. You prop yourself on your elbows, watching him step back from the couch. His heart ached as your expression became worried.
“Y/n… I can’t keep doing this.” Luke says, voice wavering in his admission.
You sit up fully, adjusting your crooked shirt and wiping the sides of your mouth. “What do you mean?”
"I can't keep pretending that what we have is enough when it's clearly not." Luke explained
Your eyes widen in surprise, your usual bubbly demeanour faltering for a moment. “Luke…”
He cuts you off, finally having found resolve. “I need more than just casual hookups… I need something real.” Luke says. “And I can't keep doing this with you, hoping that someday you'll realize that you want more than just a casual fling."
His long strides have him by the door in no second, while you’re still on the couch reeling from what he just said. Luke, a hand on the doorknob, looks back at you. He nearly crumbles at the sight. Tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself tightly. Your mouth moves as you attempt to explain but the words fail to form.
You watch the door slam behind him as Luke leaves you sitting there, feeling foolish. The tears flow down your cheeks leaving mascara stains in their trail.
When Luke enters his apartment, he’s met with his brother half naked on the couch, a girl straddling his hips. “Luke! What are you doing home already?” He asks, the girl throwing herself off of Jack and grabbing his shirt to cover her chest.
Jack was familiar with your guys’s routine. He knew what happened when you two would show up at the same bar, as it frequently ended with him seeing you in his kitchen the next morning. When he witnessed his brother leaving the bar, following you out the doors, he assumed he wouldn’t see his brother till the next morning, and therefore could take advantage of the apartment to himself.
Luke ignores him, bolting straight to his room and slamming the door behind him. Luke throws in his airpods, turning up his music to drown out the thoughts of you.
The next morning, Jack attempts to ask Luke about what happened the night before but is met with an icy response. “Doesn’t matter.” Luke mumbles through a mouthful of cereal. He attempts to pry, at least trying to ask if you’re okay, but it only seems to piss Luke off more.
“Dude, stop fucking asking!” Luke snapped. He huffs, dropping his bowl into the sink. “Listen, I don’t want to talk about it. Now let’s go, we’re gonna be late for morning skate.”
Jack doesn’t press the situation anymore, the drive to the rink done in silence rather than the normal conversation the two would find themselves in.
As Luke laced up his skates in the early morning light, preparing for the routine morning skate, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Thoughts of you swirled incessantly in his mind, a constant distraction that made it difficult to focus on the task at hand. As he glided across the ice, his movements lacked their usual grace and precision. Every stride felt heavy, every shot missed its mark. His teammates shot him concerned glances, noticing his uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm.
But it wasn't just the morning skate that suffered. As the final buzzer sounded, signalling the end of the game, Luke couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat wash over him. Not just because of the loss on the scoreboard, but because he found himself unable to shake the nagging feeling that he had made a grave mistake in breaking things off with you. Deep down he knew that it was the healthy decision to end things with you, but his feelings ran deep.
As he and Jack made their way out of the arena and towards their building, Luke's mind churned with a tumultuous mix of emotions. He replayed the moments of last night over and over again, questioning whether he had made the right choice in ending things.
As Jack and Luke approach their building, they spot a figure sitting on the front steps. It doesn’t take the youngest Hughes long to recognize that it’s you, your normally cheery demeanour replaced by tear-stained cheeks. You stand up, Luke’s heart lurching with concern. Jack slips past them, heading inside to give you space to talk.
“I’m sorry for showing up here so late.” You apologize, your voice wavering with emotion. “But I had to tell you this.”
Luke stays silent, allowing you to continue. You sniffle, wiping the tears off your cheeks.
“I do have feelings for you.” You say. “Like I really, really like you.”
Luke felt like his heart skipped a beat. He had harboured feelings for you for months now, just wanting you to reciprocate. He felt a surge of hope go through him, but couldn’t help but feel confused as to why it took so long.
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Luke asks.
You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head, and avoiding Luke’s gaze. “I was afraid.” You admit. “I’ve always been no strings attached… I do what I want and I don’t care what people think. So when I fell for you… I got scared. Because that meant commitment.
“And what if I commit and then get my feelings hurt?” You continue before laughing once again. “But in not committing, I've ended up hurting myself anyway."
Luke reaches out, gently tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. "I thought you weren't afraid of anything," he teased lightly, trying to ease the tension in the air.
A small, watery laugh escapes your lips, a hint of your usual spark returning. "I guess I'm not as fearless as I thought," you admitted, a wistful smile playing on your lips.
Luke’s heart swells with tenderness as he looks into your eyes, vulnerability and honesty shining through. Luke’s hand cups your cheek, his thumb gently stroking it. Relief washes over the both of you, Luke finding relief in his feelings being shared, you finding relief in finally being able to admit to your fears.
Luke leaned in, closing the distance and brushing his lips against yours in a soft, feather-light kiss. All previous kisses shared between the two of you had been heat-of-the-moment kisses with little realized feelings. But this kiss was a gentle, achingly sweet one. Every sensation of you was heightened as you melted into him, savouring the intoxicating feeling of his lips against yours. This kiss was filled with promise, with longing, with the unspoken desire that had simmered between you for so long.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and exhilarated, Luke's eyes searched yours. There was a silent understanding passing between you, a mutual acknowledgment of the feelings that had been laid bare.
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leaentries · 7 months
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Riding High | nico hischier
summary: when his girl decides to take charge, whose he to object?
warnings: marking, slight handjob, hair pulling (m. receiving), unprotected sex, riding, creampie, slight cockwarming, sub!nico, more porn with little to no plot, swearing
wc: 1.6k+
the captain’s girl masterlist
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Stumbling through the front door, your lips found any part of Nico they could latch onto. Hands snaking up the tight tank top that clung to his rigid body. The slight scar that remained on his cheek flashed in your vision as you kissed up his jaw. 
Nico Hischier’s existence was truly unfair to other men.
“Fuck, schatzi.” He panted as his foot managed to kick the door closed. 
Nico’s body pounded against his sweaty skin, still riding high from the team's win over Philly. His mind went hazy the second your hands began to roam once you reached the elevator. His heavy breaths were the only sound that escaped into the crisp air. He was putty at your feet, but he preferred it that way tonight. 
Truth be told, Nico loved it when you decided to take control over him. It gave his mind a break from “Captain” mode. Normally, Nico would bend you over and have his way with you, especially after a win like this, but all he could think about was the way your nails felt against his toned abdomen. 
And the shockwaves it sent to his cock.
His head tilted back as your mouth began to leave hot red marks down the column of his throat. Nico squeezed his eyes shut, pulse beating rapidly against your lips. His chest heaved with anticipation.
“Please, baby,” Nico whined. 
A small smirk found home on your face, relishing in the whimpers that left your boyfriend at the slightest touch. He was so sensitive, yet it just fueled your libido that much more. Pulling your mouth away from his body, Nico’s eyes shot open, immediately seeking your own. His bambi eyes were blown out, pupils so dilated they were practically black. 
He swallowed the complaint bubbling up, “Why’d you stop?” 
It was almost endearing, the meekness in his voice. Nico was so driven by the pleasure you were bringing him that he couldn’t form a coherent thought about anything else. 
You remained silent, simply pulling his wrist as an invitation to follow you to the living room. He let you guide him without hesitation, body desperately craving your touch. You quickly kicked off your shoes, discarding them somewhere between the kitchen and the living room. 
Once you reached your desired destination, you moved Nico till you could walk him backward towards the couch. He felt his calves hit the soft cushions, falling down to them as you gently pushed his chest.
Straddling him, you brought your hands to his swollen biceps in an attempt to balance yourself. Nico’s warm eyes peered into yours, patiently waiting for your next move. He traced every inch of your face as you reached down to grip the bottom of your sweater. Nico felt his breath hitch the second your breasts popped into view. 
The sound of his uneven pants was music to your ears, but the feeling of his thick cock pressed against your core was even better. Throwing aside your sweater, you began to slowly grind yourself down into him. Nico’s head fell back, exposing his marked-up neck. You brought your lips back to where they were earlier, this time lowering your trail. 
The slight red tint of your lips marked their territory on his white tank, no doubt staining it. You dragged your hands over his chest, smirking at the stutter of his hips as you brushed over his nipples. You continued your journey downward, only stopping once you reached the hem of his shirt. You gripped the edge, urging Nico to help discard the material. He leaned up, swiftly removing the unwanted layer. 
As he leaned back, you let a single finger dip through the faint lines of muscle on his stomach. Nico’s chest was covered in a sheer coat of sweat as your teasing got worse. He opened his mouth once more but was quickly silenced by your lips. You swallowed any sounds he attempted to make, licking into his welcoming mouth. Nico hummed in approval.
You slowly untied the sweats he had on, dipping your hand into the waistband. You pulled away to look at his flushed features.
“No boxers, Neeks?” You teased.
Nico blushed a deeper shade of red, crimson now spreading down his neck. The words he once had died in his throat.
He shook his head slightly.
You felt a wave of adoration wash over you at the sight of your big, hockey player boyfriend getting all shy. Nico wasn’t typically like this, it was a welcomed change to your sex life.
You tsked, “Such a naughty boy, Nico.”
Although he knew you were joking, his cock leaked at your sultry tone. You wasted no time in pulling down his pants just enough to pull out his dick. Wrapping your hand around his shaft, you slowly began to pump him.
“Oh fuck,” Nico’s eyes screwed shut, “Just like that, schatzi.”
You continued pumping him, letting your thumb rub over his swollen tip in the process. In spite of his protests, you remained at a torturingly slow pace. You took the time to admire the slight curve of him and the way Nico would buck his hips when you applied pressure to the vein on the right side of his cock.
“Such a pretty cock,” You cooed, “So pretty, all f’me.”
Nico whimpered.
You thought his moans were hot, but hearing him whimper from just a basic handjob was a whole other ballgame.
You continued to stoke him, beads of precum beginning to stick to the tips of your fingers. Nico’s body began to tense as you squeezed the base. 
“S-shit,” He cried.
You knew he was close, but the throbbing that each of his whines sent to your clit was enough to have you pulling back and stepping off of him. Nico looked at you pathetically, desperation and need filling his dark eyes. 
“I know, I know,” You soothed, “I just need you inside of me, pretty boy. That okay?” 
Nico couldn’t agree fast enough. He attempted to help remove your leggings, only to be swatted away. 
“Nuh-uh. No touching until I say so.” 
Nico swore he almost came right then and there. Something about the authoritative edge in your voice had his mind reeling. The only thought he could process was you sinking down on him until his cock was so deep he wouldn’t be able to remember his name. 
You rushed to discard your bottoms, your own desperation now taking over. You straddled him once more, biting your lip as his hard-on pressed into your sensitive clit. You ground yourself further down, spreading your arousal all over his length. 
“I can’t,” Nico’s hoarse voice snapped you back to reality, “Please, schatzi. I need to be inside you.” 
You leaned to press a sweet kiss on his lips. 
“Okay, baby.” 
Giving in to his pleas, you carefully line his tip with your soaking entrance before slowly sinking down. Your eyes nearly roll back at the delicious stretch of him. Nico struggled to regain his breath as your tightness made his cock weep. 
You both sat for a moment, too worked up to move yet. Placing a kiss on his scar, you gently began to move your hips. Nico’s hands flew to your waist, gripping the meaty flesh. Too consumed in the way he felt dragging along your velvet walls, you couldn’t even bring yourself to reprimand him for breaking your “No Touching,” rule.
Your hands wrapped around his neck as you tangled your fingers in his soft hair. Nico’s moaned as you tugged slightly.
“You, fuck,” You gasped as you you continued to bounce, “You like that, Neeks?” 
He nodded, giving you his infamous doe-eyes. 
“Yeah? You like it when I pull your hair?” 
You pulled again, this time slightly harder. Nico’s hips bucked up, a deep groan bubbling up from his chest. Satisfied with his reaction, you moved your hands to his shoulders. You braced yourself, quickly increasing your pace. You tried your best to ignore the burning sensation in your thighs as you rutted against Nico.
Nico noticed your pace faltering, his hands moving to your thighs to hold your weight. His hips began to thrust upwards at a brutal pace, a loud cry escaping your mouth. Your hands scratched at his muscles, clinging to the back of the couch as the searing pleasure began to build in your tummy. 
Nico, lost in his own pleasure, began to mumble incoherent German in your ear. His husky voice sent pulses of electricity through your veins, finding enough strength to push back against his pelvis as he thrusted. 
In his mix of languages, you were able to make out hsi faint chant of begs.
“Keep doing that, schatzi.” 
“Oh, don’t stop.”
“Gonna cum, please.” 
You swiveled your hips forward, Nico’s cock edging deeper into your cunt. You convulsed around him, coaxing him to his orgasm. 
His head fell back, deep whines leaving with each thrust as you milked his cock. The feeling of his warm finish filling your spent pussy was enough to tip you over. You screwed your eyes shut as you felt the waves of orgasmic bliss blind every sense you had. 
You could barely make out the feeling of Nico’s thumb rubbing encouraging circles around your clit. 
Coming back to reality, you collapsed into Nico, his strong arms wrapping around your soft figure. You both relished in the post-sex glow, enjoying the feeling of each other's bodies pressed so close together. You let your eyes shut, Nico’s fingers running down your spine lulling you into relaxation. 
“You ready for bed, baby?” 
You smiled at the change in his demeanor. It was just like him to immediately take on his protective and caring nature once more. Not that you were gonna complain. 
You shook your head, “Want to stay here for a minute. I like you inside of me.”
Nico let out a groan, “Can’t say things like that, schatzi. You’re gonna make me hard again.” 
You simply laughed, placing a kiss on his collarbone.
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radioactiveparker · 4 months
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The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X F!Cheerleader!Reader
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Part Five - Don't You Forget About Me
Chapter Summary - Secrets are told and feelings are finally shared, but will they change things for better or for worse? (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)
Chapter Warnings - Characters are all 18+ / Strong Language / Mentions of Abuse/ Abusive Relationship / Dysfunctional Families / References to Religious Beliefs / Sexual References / Stereotyping / Angst / Drug References / Use of Y/N
Word Count - 7.3k
A/N - There is a ridiculous amount of dialogue in this one so I apologise in advance if that isn't your thing xxx
(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)
(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)
~~~~~
Saturday.
October 25th, 1986.
Hawkins High Library.
3:15pm
~~~~~
"How am I supposed to answer?"
"The idea is to search your mind for your limit, like... would you drive to school naked?"
You all sat in a loose circle back at the comfy chairs. Eddie had finally calmed down from his little self-pitied tantrum and finally decided that he would put his feelings on hold for now. Well, as best as he could. He could scream into his pillow all he wanted when he got back home. Although, that didn't stop any of his nervous jitters from making his heart pound when he so much as took a glance at you. He couldn't decided what was worse, sitting directly in front of you where he could constantly feel your gaze on him, or sitting beside you where he could accidently brush against you, and you could feel the beat of his heart thumping through his veins at every touch. He opted to sit opposite you.
"Would I have to get out of the car?" Steve asked, all serious like he was actually going to go to the school on Monday naked.
"Duh." Robin rolled her eyes.
"Winter or spring?"
"Doesn't matter."
"Nah, would you?"
"Me? No, I take the bus."
"I'd do just about anything for a million dollars, are you kidding!" Eddie gasped, like going to school naked was something he would do for free. "Have explosive diarrhoea for a month, chop off my pinkie finger - I'm sure I'll figure a way to still play guitar - sleep with an octogenarian..."
Steve would rather Eddie had kept his creative thoughts to himself. He winced in disgust at Eddie's artistic suggestions. "You keep talking like that, and you'll get sent to the nut house." 
He crossed his stretched-out legs in front of him and rested his hands behind his head as if he was on a sun lounger. His voice was airy like a daydream. "That'll be a nice change; cosy jackets, getting waited on by hot nurses. Sounds like paradise to me."
"You know, they'll probably shave your head too." You pointed.
That shut him up.
If only for a minute.
He smirked, propped himself back up, and leaned in towards you. His eyes magnetised to yours. Before when he looked at you his eyes were round and Bambi-like, dreamy even, but he is stare was strong and his eyes had a slight squint as if he was challenging you. "What would you do then, sweetheart?"
"I could go to school naked for a million bucks." You chimed, disguising your sudden urge to shrink away from him when all of the attention was on you.
You were almost always the centre of attention at school. You were the cheerleading Captain, after all. But that didn't mean that you liked it. It was easier somehow when it was everybody else, people you didn't know or care much about; their opinions didn't matter to you. But with this group of people, who you had shared a unique experience with, something changed in all of you. Whether you liked it or not, you all had some strange connection, and you were closer somehow. In just under eight hours, you had felt closer to these people than over two years of knowing your "real" friends.
"Isn't that like against religion?"
"What? No, only if it's sexual."
"So, are you a virgin?" Eddie's eyes lit up, eager for some juicy gossip. Or juicy ammunition to undoubtedly use against you at some point, you couldn't decide which one.
"Didn't we already cover this?"
"I don't know, sweetheart, I can't seem to recall you giving me an answer."
You scoffed, feeling yourself heat up with embarrassment and annoyance at how Eddie's behaviour towards you had suddenly changed. "I'm not going to discuss my private life with strangers."
"It's kind of a double-edged sword, isn't it?" Robin said almost sympathetically.
"A what?"
"If you say you haven't, you're a prude. If you say you have, you're a slut. It's a trap. You want to, but you can't. But then when you do you wish you didn't. Right?"
"Or are you a tease?" Steve interrupted with a smirk.
You frowned. "I'm not a tease."
"She's only a tease if what she does gets guys hot." Eddie nudged Steve with a grin.
"I don't do anything."  You defended.
"That's why you're a tease." 
He took himself back to earlier on when you were dancing, how enticing your moves were, the way would would unknowingly flash him with every quick spin, the perspiration gleaming off of you. He wondered if he could get you all hot and sweaty like that. He had imagined that you would let him, especially when you had barely resisted yourself against him when his head was between your legs. Now, he was just adding fuel to whatever burning desire he had for you. You were just so fucking hot, and you had no idea. You had no idea just what you did to him. 
And for that, he hated you. Even more so that you had confided to Nancy that you liked someone else. But he hated himself more for allowing himself to feel that way in the first place.
"I'm not having this conversation anymore." You scoffed. "You're bizarre."
"I mean, we're all pretty bizarre." Steve shrugged. "Some are just better at hiding it than others."
"How are you bizarre?"
"I can't think for myself. I just do what other people to tell me to do." He had been doing it all day, whether he knew it or not; he had played along when Eddie took the screw out of the door, he let you take the record from the teachers lounge, heck, he even convinced himself to get high just because you had told him to 'loosen up'.  "You know what I did to get in here?"
"You flew a practice." You recalled your conversation from earlier that day.
He shook his head, avoiding everyone's eyes as he frowned. His bottom lip quivered with guilt. "I just said that. I lied. It's so fucked-up, I had to lie."
"Did you lie about your coach and your father?"
"No, that's true." Steve's eyes looked wet. He took a breath like what he was about to say would change his life forever. "What I did was I taped Larry Lester's buns together. You know him?"
Eddie perked up. "I know Larry, he was in Hellfire for a little while."
"Then you know how hairy he is -- when they pulled the tape off, all his hair came with it -- and some skin, too."
"Oh shit."
"The bizarre thing is, that I did it for my old man. I tortured this poor kid because I wanted my dad to think I was cool. He's always going off about when he was young. And I got the impression that he was disappointed that I never cut loose on anybody, right? So, I was sitting in the locker room taping up my knee and Larry was undressing a few lockers down from me, and suddenly the next thing I knew I grabbed him and threw him down and I just started wailing on him. And he screamed and kicked while my buddies laughed and cheered me on. Afterwards, when I was sitting in Vernon's office, all I could think about was Lester's father and Lester having to go home and explain what happened to him. The humiliation, the fucking humiliation... must have been unreal. How the hell do you apologize for something like that? There's no way."
The others just stared in shock at his admission.
Steve's voice deepened, imitating his father. "'Steve, you've got to be number one! I won't tolerate any losers in this family. Win! Win! Win!' He's like this mindless machine who I just can't relate to anymore. God, I fucking hate the way he is. Sometimes when I'm in the court I just wish my knee would give. If I couldn't play again, he'd probably forget all about me, and then I could get on with my life."
Your voice strained around the lump in your throat. "Why do you do everything he says?"
"I don't know. I've been told what to do for so long that I don't know how to say no."
"What did you guys do to get in here?" Nancy asked.
"You first." Eddie challenged.
"I got caught skipping class, trying to investigate Hawkins lab."
"Why were you trying to investigate Hawkins lab?"
"I think they had something to do with Barb's death."
You wondered who this 'Barb' was, then you remembered Barbra Holland who had mysteriously disappeared, presumed dead, almost exactly one year ago. Robin's head hung low at the name. When Barb began first grade, she became best friends with Robin, but when the girls began sixth grade, Barbara had met Nancy and eventually drifted apart from Robin. It wasn't Robin's fault that they had drifted apart, but she couldn't help but feel as though she could have done more to save their friendship. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn't have gone missing. 
You had seen Barbara Holland walking around the school with Nancy. You thought the pair was a strange duo, especially when Nancy started becoming more and more popular. That being said, however, she always seemed nice. Volunteering for different school committees, helping other students study in the library, even helping to set up for basketball games. If she was still alive, you supposed you could have tried to be friends with her after today. 
"What did you do, Rob?"
"Oh, I-I can't say." Her face flushed.
"C'mon, why not? We said ours."
Her heart was racing and pressure was weighing down on her chest. She looked to Steve. His eyes were filled with concern. Those big brown puppy dog eyes that made her feel bad for keeping anything from him.
"I-I got... caught... with someone."
"Caught doing what?"
She took a sharp breath. Nancy's question hadn't done anything to release the weight trying pulling her heart into her stomach. "Something... in the janitors closet."
Eddie laughed. "Buckley, you dirty little rascal. Who was it?"
"I can't say." She shied.
"Oh, c'mon."
"Tell us, Rob."
"C'mon, tell us who it was."
A chorus of 'tell us' chants bashed around in her skull. The weight was getting heavier and heavier until the band snapped.
"Vickie!"
The band had released her heart and sling-shot it up into her throat. She could hardly swallow as tears sprung in her eyes.
"Vickie. Vickie from band, Vickie?"
"Yes!" And although the band had snapped, the weight had gone. Her secret had been fermenting and sizzling inside her, bottled up and expanding until the lid popped and it finally spilled and overflowed. 
"But, Vickie's a girl."
"Oh, Robin." You gasped at the realisation, rubbing her arm to console her. 
"Holy shit."
Her voice trembled. "I get if you guys don't want to be near me anymore--"
"No, Rob. Why wouldn't we want to be near you?" Steve questioned, almost offended that Robin would thing he would stoop that low. 
"I'm a freak."
"Hey, look who you're talking to." Eddie's voice was soft, yet playful. "Nobody's more of a freak than me."
Everybody laughed, you included, although you felt kind of bad. You were all as much of a freak as each other, you had learned today. It was good that Eddie could laugh about it, but he shouldn't have to in the first place. 
You had hoped that the subject would change there, but the dreaded question was pointed at you. "So why are you here, Sweetheart?"
You cleared your throat. "I told my parents that I had cheer practice cause they'd flip if they found out I got a detention."
"Right, that's not exactly what I meant. What did you do to get in here?"
You sighed. Robin and Steve had been brave enough to share their story. You thought it only fair to tell yours, despite your reluctance.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"I told my boyfriend that I had detention so I didn't have to see him."
"Wow, I didn't know Billy Hargrove was that bad in the sack." Eddie chuckled.
"No, it's not that. We haven't even..."
"Oh, so you are a virgin!"
"Do you believe in all of that no sex before marriage bullshit?" Steve asked, intrigued.
"So what if I do?" You snapped.
You didn't, but you were offended for your mother's sake. Not that you knew why you were, almost like she had drilled it into your head, or branded it onto your brain with a hot iron where it would scar forever.
But scars can fade.
"Nah, she doesn't. She wants to, but she doesn't." Eddie folded his arms as if to say "watch me rip this girl to shreds". "I can see it in those sweet little eyes of yours. You're just daddy's little girl and mommy's little princess - a kiss ass. Sucking up to your parents' beliefs just to get what you want"
"I do not."
He rolled his eyes, firmly standing by his statement. Nothing would persuade him to think otherwise. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. But you and I both know that I don't need no damn preacher to make you mine."
"Ugh, you're impossible."
Nancy eagerly changed the subject. "So why didn't you want to see your boyfriend?"
Your demeanour instantly shifted. Your glaring eyes turned wide with fear at the mention of Billy. You immediately pulled at your sleeve to hide the bruises on your wrist. The once angry beat of your heart thumped cowardly along the vein in your neck, as if threatening to escape in a scream. "He -umm- he has a bit of a temper. Lately, I feel like nothing I do is good enough for him, and he tends to... lash out."
Eddie rolled his eyes at you. You were as close to perfect as someone could get in his eyes. How could your life not be perfect too? "Nah, I don't buy it. Look at you, all that skin showing, and there's not a scratch on you."
You anger returned in a crash, tsunami waves flooding into your eyes and a whirlpool swirling in your gut. How dare he question you. Eddie hadn't even plucked up the courage to share a single thing about himself, and yet here he was, judging you for being brave enough to. 
"Fuck you!"
In a blaze of fury, you stormed off with stomping feet and secluded yourself in the listening room. Slamming the door behind you, you slumped yourself on the floor against the rack of records. You attempted to control your breathing, but your anger reduced you to nothing but a mess of tears, and you began sobbing uncontrollably into your own arms.
The others stared at Eddie with a mix of shock and disgust. Eddie was used to that kind of reaction. But why did he hate how it felt? He looked into himself as the others had and found that he was just as disgusted with himself. The guilt that coiled around his stomach almost made his throw up. He swallowed it down and avoided the others' gaze as he stood and made his way to you, despite the others telling him to leave you alone.
His heart lurched when he heard you choke out a sob from behind the door. He clenched his fist, angry at himself, but knocked gently on the door.
"Leave me alone." You tried to say angrily, but it sounded so heartbroken that it had no bite to it.
Eddie ignored your request and bravely opened the door. You didn't need to look up to know who it was who sat beside you. The lingering smell of weed, smoke and cheep cologne told you it was Eddie. You didn't make any effort to move, not wanting Eddie to see how his words had effected you.
After a few beats of silence, Eddie finally spoke. "I'm sorry."
"Whatever." You sniffed, keeping your head hidden in your arms.
"No really. I am."
The honesty in his voice made you pause. You stopped your tears with a final sniff and raised your head to look at him. The look on his face when he saw you was if he was going to cry himself. At first you thought how dare he cry after how he made you feel but you could see the regret seething in his chocolatey irises. 
"I am so sorry Y/N. I didn't mean any of it. I was just... just..."
"Just what?"
"Angry, I guess."
"At me?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "No, well kinda. Not angry at you, angry because of you..."
"What do you mean?"
You questions were bashing around his skull. He raked his hands over his face. He was frustrated at himself for not being able to give you the answer you wanted to hear, and not being valiant enough to express his feeling to you. Instead, he did the cowardly thing and changed the subject.
"Can I ask you something?"
You nodded, although you were disappointed that he didn't give you an explanation. But you understood that sometimes feelings can be hard to communicate. You knew that Eddie wasn't one to share his feelings and you doubted that he ever would. Not to you anyway.
"Why don't you leave him?"
It was a question you asked yourself all the time. You knew exactly why, you just didn't have the courage to end it. It was easier to ask yourself the question. To you it was some sort of first step to leaving Billy. But that's all it was, a step. One step forward and three steps back. You would tell yourself to leave him, then he would look at you with a storm reeling in his eyes and you would back down. Too chicken shit to stand up for yourself, in fear of what he could do to you.
You took a shaky breath, tears threatening to spill again. "Because I'm scared to. What if all of this time he's been holding back, and leaving him just pisses him off to the max. He'd kill me. I've seen the look in his eyes. I bet if I pushed him hard enough he'd do it."
Eddie's heart was in his throat. He knew that feeling all too well. "Shit, Y/n. I'm sorry you have to go through that."
"I guess it's my own fault." You sniffed. "I dated him thinking it would get back at my parents, but they love him. He's like a completely different person around them, it's so frustrating. He could do no wrong in their eyes. I bet if I told them what he'd been doing they'd take his word over mine."
You paused for a brief moment. Sharing your thoughts with Eddie had forged some clarity and you wondered why you were pouring your heart out to the person who had just hurt your feelings. He had apologised, but could you forgive him? He frustrated you to no end, so why did you have such a soft spot for him?
"I don't get you Eddie."
"What do you mean?" He sat himself straight at your sudden change in demeanour.
"I just don't know how to take you."
"I can think of some ways for you to take me." He smirked sending you a wink.
Any other time, you would have blushed, but he only proved your point.
"See, this is what I'm talking about. One minute we're at each others throats, the next you're acting like your my friend and then you're flirting with me. I just don't know what I'm meant to do."
He turned to you and took your hands in his. "Look I'm sorry. It's just that I...."
"You...?"
I like you and I'm a jealous asshole because you like someone else. He couldn't tell you that, of course. He removed himself from you and wrapped his arms round his knees, mimicking your position. "Whatever, I'm just sorry, okay?"
"Then why don't I believe you?"
"I'm telling you the truth, I swear."
"Prove it."
"Prove it how?"
You paused. The two of you were cursed. Cursed by those who were meant to protect you, to love you; angels that were monsters in disguise. A curse of bruises and scars and broken bones, forever scared to stand up for yourself, scared to love. You wanted to ask him about it. How did he put up with it? You recalled when Steve said it was a part of Eddie's image. You wanted to know the truth.
"Do your parents really beat you?"
Annoyance flashed across his eyes. The question made his blood boil. "What kind of question is that?"
"Just answer it Eddie. Please" 
"Yes..." He snapped, but you looked at him with those big, watery puppy dog eyes again and he couldn't help but cave. "Well, they did. I don't actually live with them anymore. I live with my uncle. He looks after me."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that."
"It's whatever." His anger had cooled to a simmer, but it still sizzled in his gut. 
"Can I ask you something?" You repeated Eddie's earlier question. "If your home life is a lot better now, why do you act the way you do?"
He sighed. "I guess Harrington was right before. To keep up my image. If I look all mean and scary, people are less likely to pick on me and my friends. They sort of look up to me, so I gotta put on a brave face, you know?"
You nodded, but felt like he was holding back. "Any other reason?"
"I guess... I mean, I've always been a nobody, so I guess doing all this, acting the way I do, makes me feel seen. The only time my parents ever really payed attention to be was when they were beating on me, so... I guess old habits die hard."
You nodded again, letting silence fall between you. You could tell that your questioning had upset Eddie. Irritation was practically steaming off him. Eddie hadn't shared so much of his life with anyone, not even the Hellfire boys. He was torn between feeling relieved to get it off his chest, and being annoyed at himself for opening up to you so easily.
"Good session today, Munson. Same time next week?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.
You wiped the tear stains from your cheeks and stood up to go and join the others. Although you didn't say anything more to him, Eddie he knew he was forgiven. But somehow, that didn't make him feel much better. You stood in the doorway and turned to see if Eddie was following you. Eddie hadn't moved an inch and stayed looking like he was stuck in his own head
"Eddie, if its any consultation, I'd like to think that I can see you now. The real you."
You left him to join the others. They stared at you like you were a bomb going to burst any second, but you simply brushed them off and sat back in your seat. The silence was awkward until Robin spoke.
"Can I ask a question? What happens on Monday?" She asked but received no answer. "I'm assuming we're friends. Right? We're doing things together, we're talking about our private lives, we've broken the law together. It seems like we can call ourselves friends. I think of you guys as my friends anyway. Am I wrong?"
"No. I don't think you're wrong" Eddie piped up, returning to the circle, sitting opposite you and not daring to look you in the eye.
"So, on Monday. What happens?"
"You mean are we still friends?" Nancy asked. "If we're friends now, that is."
Everyone had an interest in the question but no one wanted to commit to an answer. You all eyed each other, waiting for the other to speak. In your ideal world, you would walk into school on Monday waving to Nancy and Steve, saying hello to Robin as Eddie walked you to Mr. Kaminski's chemistry class without a care in the world. 
But would that really happen? 
No.
Because you did care. You cared about what Carol thought, you cared about what Tommy thought, the cheerleading squad, Billy. God, you'd hate to think what Billy would do if he saw you walking the halls with these people. Not only what he would do to you, but what he would do to them.
"Truth?" You braved an answer, fidgeting with the watch on your wrist. "I don't think so."
Steve scoffed at you in disgust. "That's a real nice attitude."
"Be honest, Steve. On Monday, if Robin come up to you in the hall what would you do? When you're there with all the sports."
Steve looked at Robin, nervously. He was on the spot.
"I know exactly what you'd to. You'd  say 'hi' to her and when she left, you'd cut her up so that your friends wouldn't think you really liked her." You answered for him.
You and Steve were friends with the same types of people. You knew all too well how it would go down because you knew your friends.
"No way." He shook the hesitance from his brain, his face laced with determination as he finally thought for himself. "Not anymore."
Robin looked at Steve sadly. "Anymore?" 
"Truth is," Steve puffed his chest like he was about to perform an important speech, keeping his eyes on Robin. "I've been friends with Robin for a while-"
"Steve, you don't-"
"We work at Scoops Ahoy together in Starcourt. And she is the bestest friend I could ever ask for. I mean, she's just so real. None of this fake shit like Tommy and Carol. And she's always there for me, like always. I don't know what I'd do without you, Rob. I've had enough of being fake. From now on, Rob, it's gonna be you and me. I don't give a shit what anyone else says. And I'm sorry I didn't do this sooner."
"And what if I walked up to you?" Eddie asked you, optimistic after your previous conversation and hopeful that Steve's speech had given you some encouragement to change your mind.
You looked at him sadly. You hated to say it to him, but he was truthful to you earlier, it was only fair you did the same. Your voice fell quiet, a regretful whisper. "What I said before."
He looked at you like you had just stabbed him in the back. Ruefully, you had. "Don't be a bitch." He snapped.
You were taken aback. You knew Eddie was frustrated with you for questioning him before, but you thought he would have gotten over it. At least enough for him to join the circle again. Perhaps not. 
"What, I'm a bitch for telling the truth? I couldn't, not with Billy-"
"No! Because you know how shitty that it is to do to someone. You admit it and you aren't strong enough to tell your friends to fuck off and let you be friends with who you want!"
"And what about you? Why don't you take Steve to one of your heavy metal vomit parties?"
Eddie shot a look at Steve. You've got him.
"Take Nancy out to the parking lot at lunch and get high. Or me for that matter .. What would your friends say if they saw you and me walking down the hall together? They'd laugh their asses off and you'd cut me up. You'd probably say I'm doing it with you so they'd forgive you for being with me? Correct?"
Steve saved Eddie from an answer. "Okay. I assume Robin and I are better people than you guys." He turned to Nancy. "Would you do that?"
"I don't really have any friends anymore." She shied.
"If you did?"
"No, the kind of friends I'd have wouldn't mind."
There was a silence of a storm suddenly quelled. A pause long enough for everyone to calm down. 
Steve's voice was unusually quiet and timid. "Are we gonna be like our parents?" 
"Yes." Robin's answer was blunt.
"Why do you say that?"
"It's unavoidable."
"Not me." Eddie was determined.
"It just happens. When you grow up... your heart dies." 
You all sat, breathing in the heavy silence. It wasn't uncomfortable by any means, but it still felt heavy. The truth had been spilt whether everyone like it or not, but still, everyone had accepted it. They had accepted that things may just go back to the way they were before, but they also accepted that things could also never be exactly the same. It was a strange mixture of hope, solemn and acknowledgment. And for you - fear. You wanted to be friends with these guys. You wanted things to be different on Monday, but thoughts of Billy shrouded your desires. The things he would say or do if he found out what had happened in this room today; the friendships made, the truth told, the kisses shared. You'd rather wallow in your own self pity.
~~~~~
3:50pm
~~~~~
"Are you sure about this?"
"Absolutely, he won't be able to resist you."
Your eyes fluttered to the ceiling as Nancy prodded at your waterline with her black eyeliner pencil. 
Despite your differences earlier, everybody seemed okay with each other now. You'd all had time to cool off and apologise to one another. Unfortunately, you had meant what you'd said earlier, but you were still sorry for it.
You were currently in the seclusion room with Nancy and Robin giving you what they deigned a 'Munson Make-over'. Robin had given you her spare t-shirt from her bag. It was simply black and large enough to stop at the exact point on your thighs where your skirt had been. You hadn't wanted to take it from her, arguing that there may come a time where she'll need it more that you, but she refused, vowing that she 'just might have found something worth staying for'. 
You made a last minute decision to ditch the skirt underneath when the shirt started bunching up weirdly and making you look frumpy. You felt about ten times more exposed somehow, but the girls reassured you that you looked great. Nancy used a small make-up brush to finalise the finishing touches to your eyes, smudging the black in an edgy way that made the colour of your eyes pop. 
This hadn't been your idea, but a combined effort from both Nancy and Robin when she had accidentally blurted out your admission to having a crush on Eddie earlier. For once you finally felt like a teenager. Not having to worry about what people might think, just girls doing make-up and talking about boys like they do in the movies. 
And something stirred in your gut. Perhaps regret, or maybe defiance, but a pull in your chest decided that maybe you would take back what you had said about ignoring them on Monday. After a few swipes of mascara over your lashes, Nancy affirmed that you were done and 'ready to get your man'. Nancy leaned back to admire her handy work. With a big smile, she grabbed a compact mirror out of her bag and turned it to face you. Your eyes widened, stunned and not believing that it was you in the mirror. It was crazy how a bit of make-up could change the way you looked drastically. 
"Is this me?" You laughed in astonishment.
"It's you."
Your surprise quickly turned to insecurity. Never in your life had you worn make-up like this and you were starting to second guess whether or not you could pull it off. 
"But what if he laughs at me?"
Robin rolled her eyes. "He won't laugh, you look great. C'mon."
They urged you out of the door after assuring you that Principal Higgins was no where to be seen, and you made your way to the broom closet Eddie had told you he had been locked in. 
Eddie had managed (with the help of Steve) to clamber back up the hole in the ceiling that he had made. He was currently sitting on an upside down bucket, fiddling with his coat and scarf. The door swung open abruptly and Eddie stood tall, expecting to see Principal Higgins before him. Instead, you stepped into the room, keeping your eyes on Eddie with smirk as you leaned your back on the door to shut it. You crossed you legs over one another shyly as Eddie gawked at you. Your body felt like it was burning as he raked his eyes over you. 
"Hey." He said. It was the only thing he could think of in his state of disbelief.
"Hey."
His lack of response was worrying you. Nancy had tried so hard to convince you that Eddie liked you, but you were beginning to think that maybe she had been wrong. Eddie was nothing but a moment. Five measly years out of an entire lifetime. But do you simply let the moment pass you by, or do you seize the moment and make something out of it?
"What are you doing here?"
"I've come to see you."
"Me? Why?"
"I'm sorry, do you want me to go?"
"No, no, no, I don't want you to go. Sorry, it's just different being alone with you. Like properly alone with you, especially when you look like that."
"Good different?"
"Definitely good different." 
You smiled, feeling a bit more confident in yourself. You moved towards him and he took your hands in his.
"Listen, I've been wanting to tell you this, but I never really found a great time, especially with the other guys around all the time."
"What is it?"
He paused, having second thoughts about telling you. He knew you liked someone else. What if you just laughed in his face? No, you wouldn't do that. He'd opened up to you before, he could do it again. 
He released an exasperated sigh. "I like you, okay"
When you didn't reply in your state of shock, he continued. "I really like you, but I don't want to. I never thought that I could like someone like you. That's to say the popular chick, the cheerleading captain, you know what I mean. I spent my whole life hating people like that because they were all just bullies." He scoffed a laugh like he could hardly believe what he was saying. "And then you come along and you were just... different. I don't know how to explain it, there's just something about you. Something that I like."
"But I know you don't like me." He quickly added, drooping his head to face the ground.
You couldn't believe what you had just heard. Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest. Eddie does like you. You wanted to scream in happiness. But he thinks you like someone else. "what makes you think that?"
"I overheard you say to Nancy that you liked someone."
You laughed in incredulity. "That was about you, airhead!"
"It was?" His head snapped back up, looking at you with wide eyes.
"Do you think I'd dress like this if it wasn't for you?"
"Oh baby," he held your hands gently, pulling you forwards for you to look directly at him, "you look smoking hot don't get me wrong, but you don't have to change yourself for me, okay?"
You nodded, giving him a shy smile.
"You do look smoking hot by the way." He smirked pulling you closer so you were chest to chest. 
He tilted your chin up softly, eyeing the way your kissable lips parted for him and eyelids drooped with desire. Just a simple touch from him could ignite something deep within you. Something that had been dormant for so long. 
Passion? Desire?
Love?
"Eddie." You whispered against his lips.
"Yes, baby?"
"Do you really mean it? Do you really like me?"
"I do, sweetheart, I really do."
"Good." You rested your forehead against his as he stroked a wisp of hair from your face.
"Hey, sweetheart?"
"Yes, baby?" You teased.
"Can I kiss you?"
Your nodded, seizing the moment. You had never been more sure of anything in your life. Your eyes closed, ready for Eddie to press his lips against yours for your first real kiss.
"Munson-- What the...?"
The two of you jumped apart when the door swung open and Principal Higgins stood there looking rather puzzled. He was confused about how you had ended up in the closet, and why you had completely changed your look, but he didn't say anything. He was tired and wanted to go home.
"Let's go." He snapped.
The two of you made your way out of the closet and walked back to the library, Principal Higgins following closely behind like the two of you were going to run away from him any second. The walk to the library was short. The two of you sat down together and Higgins stood sternly before everyone with his arms crossed. He eyed everyone up in a way that was supposed to be intimidating.
"Papers?"
Nancy slid a single piece of paper across the table. Higgins picked it up wearily, reading the signatures of the kids scribbled in a mixed array of handwriting across the top. He looked mystified by the paper, but before he could open his mouth, the bell rang and everyone immediately gathered their things and left, leaving Higgins to read the paper alone.
Dear Principal Higgins,
We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us — in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain and an athlete, a basket case, a princess, a cheerleader and a criminal.
Does that answer your question?
Sincerely yours,
The Breakfast Club
~~~~~
Saturday.
October 25th, 1984.
Hawkins High.
4:05pm.
~~~~~
The sky had reclined into a rich blue, shadows stretching across the school's front steps in the setting sun. The five of you made your way down the stairs to the few cars outside. 
Nancy held hands with Steve on the way down, giving him a peck on the cheek before getting into her mother's car. She immediately began questioning her as they drove off down the road. Steve did a not-so-secret fist pump, and waved everyone goodbye before getting into his fathers car.
"See you guys on Monday." Robin bid you both farewell as she got in the back of the final car. 
You and Eddie stood in a comfortable silence side by side on the final step, neither of you wanting to say goodbye yet. 
"You know, I was thinking." Eddie broke the silence, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leaning his weight on you. "What if there was another way to get back at your parents?"
"Like what?" You playfully shrugged him off, turning to face him.
"Well, I'm sure dating a metalhead weed smoker wouldn't appease them too much." 
You smiled at the way he put it, but frowned almost instantly when a sudden thought flashed behind your eyes. "What about Billy?"
"Let me deal with him." You don't look too convinced. "I'm stronger than I look, you know."
There was a relief that took a weight off your chest. Could this finally be over? Happiness felt like it was bursting in sunrays in your heart, making you giddy. You couldn't stop the smile from stretching across your lips. 
"I'll believe it when I see it." You teased. "Wouldn't want our first date to be at the hospital."
"So is that a yes?"
A chilly breeze rustled through the trees, borrowing your body heat and giving you goose bumps in return. A weight fell on your shoulders when Eddie placed his coat over you.
"Eddie you don't have to."
"You think I'm gonna let you walk home in the cold wearing that?"
"Maybe not." You smiled. "Let me give you something in return then."
"Oh you don't--"
You reached for your watch, unclasping the thin metallic band before grabbing his wrist and wrapping it around.
"You're giving me your watch? Why?"
You fastened it as loosely as you could, but it was still a little tight on him. He didn't resist, however, instead he watched you intently and read the time on it when you were done.
"Because tomorrow night, when the big hand hits twelve and the little hand hits seven, I want you to come pick me up."
"Pick you up? Like a date? So it is a yes."
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You couldn't decide whether it was from excitement or nerves. You could only hope that Eddie will placate his chronic tardiness to show up at your door at exactly seven o'clock on the dot. But, you would have to find out tomorrow.
"But where do you want to go?"
"Leave that to me. Think of it as an early birthday present."
Eddie smirked, bending down to wrap his arms around your waist, bringing you close enough that a turn of your head would end up with your lips together. "Tell you what, you know what I want for my birthday?"
"What would that be?"
"I do believe I asked you for a kiss earlier."
"You did, but I guess you'll have to wait for your birthday for that." You smirked, pulling away and hopping off the step, making a start homeward.
You turned around teasingly to see Eddie frozen on the step completely stunned. You giggled to yourself, turning back with a skip in your step. You took about ten more steps before turning around again, only to see Eddie right behind you. He wrapped his arms around you waist, picking you up and spinning you around as your laughter echoed across the school field. 
"Oh no you don't, sweetheart." 
He span you around wildly as you attempted to beg him to stop through your laughter. His fingers prodded at your ribs, tickling you into submission. With a final dizzying spin, he set you down with a chuckle. You grabbed onto his shoulders to steady yourself as the world kept spinning around you. 
"Fine, just one kiss."
"That's more like it." He smiled.
He gently placed a calloused hand along your jaw, cupping your cheek to pull you closer. Your eyes closed softly as his lips finally pressed to yours in your first proper kiss together. The kiss was sweet with passion, pure and vulnerable with a promise of love. His warm tongue stroked against your lips tenderly and you threaded your hands through his hair, tilting your head as you massaged your tongue against his. He moaned softly into your mouth, using his other hand to draw your bodies together. 
Hesitantly, you pulled apart, the two of you with heavy eyelids and drunken smiles.
"How about I walk you home? Make a start on trying to "impress" your parents."
"I think I'd like that."
Somehow, eight hours in a school library had managed to change your life completely. Fate was the librarian, usually known for matching you with the book you want. Only this time you all got paired with a book you didn't want, or rather one that didn't suit your taste. Yet, you read it anyway and discovered that it is possible to branch out. It is possible to make changes, and that changes can be for the better. You can learn things that you otherwise wouldn't have about life, people, love. You can learn that everyone is different, yet we all share the same emotions. Insecurity and vulnerability can be embraced, and there is no right and wrong. At the end of the day, what matters most is acceptance, within yourself and within others.
~~~~~
<<<Previous // Next>>>
~~~~~
Taglist: @cruwushes @the-ch0sen-on3 @namelesshumanperson @ali-r3n @cadence73 @munsonssweets @ahoyyharrington @mewchiili @yourdailymemedelivery @httpsunflowers @b-irock @coolglittercornbae @sav12321 @cumslutforaemond @siriuslysmoking @learninglinesintherainn @peaches-roses-sins @lodeddiperrodrick @catherinnn @lilocapoca @minniedreamers @melaninjhs @chaosfrogsonfire @levylovegood @bowsforsienna @rcailleachcola @spookysace24 @metalhead-succubus
169 notes · View notes
ouchmyheart22 · 1 year
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Hii pretty please something with buggy flirting w reader either with or without a body and at first it's just some off handed comment but reader thinks he's so hot so they get a little 😳👉👈 so he flirts with her more and more and gets increasingly suggestive just to see her squirm<3
Absolutely my love - hope this is what you wanted <3
Request for Buggy x Reader (OPLA Buggy the Clown)
Word Count: 1.7K
Warning: mentions of sex.
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He leaned against his chair with such ease and nonchalance, his legs spread wide, one hand on his thigh, the other gripping the whiskey glass. His chin was darkened by stubble, his red lipstick was faded, smudging the crystal glass in his gloved hand.
You tried to focus on pouring the next customers drink but it was no use, your eyes kept trailing towards the corner of the bar, where Buggy and his crew had settled for the night.
Settled, they were anything but settled. Rowdy and increasingly loud, your boss seemed to tolerate the pirates for the business.
You hadn’t even spoke to him. Cabaji had ordered a bottle of whiskey for the captain, while Buggy had made himself comfortable at the head of the table. Perfectly in your eyeline, which you couldn’t tell was a good thing or bad thing.
He shrugged off his coat, revealing his toned arms, veins prominent in his forearms, a hazy blue colour under the fluorescents of the bar.. Definitely a bad thing you decided.
You turned away from the Buggy pirates, in an attempt to distract yourself. You tried to focus on drying the glass in your hands, ignoring the sound of laughter from behind you.
They were all intimidating, sure, they were pirates after all, but there was something about the captain that made your mouth dry, your muscles tense up. His air of confidence and familiarity, as he walked into the bar for the first time, commanding the space. Power.
You wondered what is felt like to have that power.
‘A pint of Red Herring and another bottle of Davy Jones whiskey sweetheart’
You’d been listening to his voice all night. Telling stories to his crew about a straw hat pirates and his friends, how he had successfully infiltrated their crew, and defeated Arlong single handed.
It was a husky tone, mischievous and teasing, he seemed to always be biting back a laugh.
You almost dropped the beer glass in your hands as you turned to him, your eyes wide and innocent.
His palms were flush against the bar, his arms stretched, flexing as he bent them to rest on the counter.
Your mouth opened and closed, suddenly full of sand as your tongue refused to form any words.
He grinned, his red lipstick stretching up his cheeks with amusement.
‘Well hello there Bambi’ the words tumbled from his lips before he even thought.
You blinked, not doing much for the impression.
God Buggy thought, you were a nice change. Young and beautiful, radiating the type of innocence someone at sea had long lost. Your doe eyes were big and expressive, he relished the feeling of your gaze on him. Your lips rested in a little pout, pink and plush as you nodded at him in response.
Buggy started to grind his teeth. Your bottom lip would be better suited between his teeth he thought.
You smiled, polite and shy, clearly too nervous to reply to the captain. For fear your voice would betray you, and come out stuttering and broken.
He leaned further onto the bar as you pulled the tap for the red ale, filling a pint for him.
He watched your small hands, grip the beer tap with ease, your fingers wrapped around the handle. God he wondered what those fingers would feel like wrapped around his-‘
‘I’ll just go take the whiskey from the back’
You finally spoke, your voice sickly sweet to him. It was soft, patient even, though he assumed you must have a lot of patience to be dealing with drunkards all day long.
He nodded, grinning at you, his eyes darkened.
‘I’m sure you love taking things from the back sweets’
Your entire face seemed to fill with colour, your cheeks volcanic hot as you stared at the clown. Had you heard that right? Did he actually just say that ? To you?
He laughed, jutting his chin towards to door wordlessly. As if to say go on, go ahead. You give a small nod, fiddling with your hands as you pushing open the storage room with your shoulder.
A breath escapes you, one you didn't know you had been holding.
God you must have looked so dumb. So naive. What must he be thinking of you? He wasn't thinking of you probably, had probably forgotten what you'd looked like by now.
You cursed yourself as you slid open the glass cabinet that held the top shelf spirits, ironically on the bottom shelf, gripping the Davy Jones bottle carefully.
Turning back towards the door, you allowed yourself a deep breath. Your hands were shaking with anxiety, aching from the adrenaline rush. God you were so reactive, too reactive for your liking. Letting on just how inexperienced you were.
If any other man had spoken to you like that you probably would have rolled your eyes, mentally gagging. But it seemed the attention the clown was giving you was making you squirm.
Gripping the door handle, you held the whiskey close to your chest, easing the blush that had spread down your neck. You allowed another deep breath before you pulled the door open with a small tug.
He had appeared at the door like a shadow, blocking the light from the bar outside the small storage room. His hat allowed a small bit of light to peak over the brim, but his entire form was now darkened, his eyes fell on you expectedly.
You resisted the urge to gulp.
‘Need a hand princess?’
He had popped his right hand off, floating towards you, he wigged his finger in front of your nose.
‘I-I got it’ you answered, weakly holding up the whiskey. You looked at the hand, and then at Buggy, who winked, clicking his tongue for emphasis.
He hummed, taking the bottle from your hand with his detached glove. It attached itself back to his forearm with a satisfying thunk.
Licking his lips, he replied.
‘I just got a craving for something sweet’ he decided
You blinked. Catching yourself with wide eyes again, you forced your eyes shut for a second, playing with your apron you responded.
‘Um.. okay' that was all you could get out at first, before your forced your customer service training to kick in 'What would you like?’
His eyes darkened, his chin dropping to stair at you better. He was an attractive man, even with the makeup, even in the dim lighting, even with the nose.
‘I’d like you. On the rocks. With a lemon slice’ his voice was teasing and rough, an interesting combination that sounded so perfect in your ears.
‘But I’ll settle for a cocktail sweetheart’ he finished, his wolfish grin subdued by a satisfied smirk.
You nodded, weakly, you felt like your body was rusted, in desperate need of oiling.
‘Any preference?’ You didn’t stutter this time but your voice was still smaller than usual. You cringed, you sounded pathetic.
‘I’m sure you’d know what I like sweets’ he shrugged, he cocked his head to the side, looking you up and down ‘You seem very attentive’
You nodded.
That was all you seemed to be able to do around him. He seemed amused, highly satisfied he had mustered such a reaction. Like a cat playing with a mouse he'd caught, dragging you back by your tail each time you slipped away.
He turned to allow you to pass him, though remained in the doorway so you could not avoid his gaze.
As you stepped out of the supply cupboard he bent down, his long blue hair swinging from his hat, a smile plastered on his red lips.
‘Not too sweet though, I don’t want to ruin my appetite’
He chomped down on his teeth, making a satisfying click sound, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure again. His eyes seemed to burn holes into your back as you cross the bar, away from him to start the drink.
By the time he had sauntered back to sit in front of you, your hands had stopped shaking and you were cutting lemon.
He watches you make the cocktail like a lion, watching an injured gazelle stumble, his eyes trained on your every move. You meet his eyes once, they're sea green, bold and piercing. He chuckles as you jerk your head back towards the glass.
‘Pretty’ he comments, his gloved hands are spread out on the counter, so much bigger than your own. You've never liked feeling small, but suddenly you feel just fine about it.
‘Hmm?’ Your head pops up from the cocktail glass, the small shot glass still in your hand. Did he just call you-
His lips turn up again, satisfied with your reaction. He holds your gaze, though you desperately hope the clown breaks the eye contact first. Though that seemed unlikely
‘The cocktail’ he allows his gaze to fall to the pink, frothing liquid below you.
Of course he meant the cocktail.
You place the tall tulip glass in front of him, placing the small red flower as garnish, you finally allow your shoulders to loosen.
He looks to you. Then looks at the cocktail. Then back to you.
This time, you are very aware you are holding your breath. Your hands are clasped behind your back, in an attempt to stretch your shoulders.
He takes a long sip, his eyes never leaving yours.
This feels too intimate for the setting, especially when you see Buggy swallow and his adams apple bobs. You think you might go insane, you want to scream at the clown.
‘Taste okay?’ you manage, forcing a small smile as he rests the glass on the counter.
He shrugs, crossing his arms, leaning closer to your side of the bar.
You look disappointed, like a kicked puppy, but only for a second, as you put on a brave face and open your mouth to offer him an alternative.
Buggy grins, wider than he has the whole night. Watching you squirm has certainly granted him with great entertainment, the best show he's watched in a long time.
He grabs the pint and the whiskey bottle, cackling as he turns away from the bar, leaving you bright red and shifting on your feet.
'You look like you'd taste a lot better sweetheart'
540 notes · View notes
megu-meow · 6 months
Text
when a fire starts to burn - sukuna
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sukuna x fem. reader (reader is Nanami's sister)
Part 2 of my Hockey Player Sukuna Series - Part 1
Lmk if you would like me to create a taglist! :D
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Sukuna finds himself looking forward to Sunday. He suddenly considers texting you non-stop not enough. He wants to see you in person. He wants to see with his own eyes how you react to his flirtatious comments, he often wonders if they make you blush. He is convinced that they do, considering that sometimes you react with unintelligible keyboard slams. He loves it, but seeing it in person would be hundred times better.
He considers himself enchanted by you. He finds it undoubtedly easy to talk to you, he loves telling you about his day and he certainly enjoys hearing about yours. He loves how passionate you are about your job, how excited you get about office gossip, and how you never hesitate to text him whenever the smallest thing happens to you throughout the day. The hardest part is hiding the fact that he is talking to you constantly from his Captain, your brother.
"Sweetheart, when is Bambi coming?" he hears Nanami's wife, Sophia question from the kitchen while Sukuna is sitting on the couch in the living room, and his ears perk up once he hears that adorable nickname of yours being mentioned.
"She's not coming here. We're meeting at the cafe." Nanami responds as he leaves their bedroom.
"Why is that? I haven't seen her in a while, I wanted to give her the souvenir I got her from Thailand."
"She's tired and irritated, she said she wants to hear about your travels when she's in a better mood."
Sukuna's grin widens. He knows why you're tired. He knows why you're irritated. The two of you stayed up texting until 5 in the morning and your conversation ended with him calling your cat stupid, which offended you deeply. The thing is, Sukuna is severely allergic to cats so he couldn't comprehend the cuteness of your cat even after receiving ten pictures of the sleeping feline from you. And you couldn't accept him calling your child stupid either. Nonetheless, he was displeased that you were not seeing him today in person. What's worse is that they're leaving tomorrow for a road trip which is scheduled to last at least a week, if not more. He doesn't really understand why he has these feelings after two weeks of knowing you, he usually wouldn't care about something so insignificant, but he figures that you were an enigma enough to entertain these thoughts running around in his mind about you. Once Nanami leaves the house, Sukuna retreats to his momentary room and starts packing his bag for the upcoming road trip. He has gained a lot of fans after the amazing debut he had with the team and now there's a lot of pressure on him to live up to the expectations. If everything goes right, he should get a raise in a couple of months, after the regular season is over and he will be able to get his own place after that. Despite enjoying how his current situation gives him more opportunities to see you in person, Sukuna hates leeching on others, so he cannot wait to get himself out of your brother's apartment.
While you're out with your brother, you cannot stop thinking about the pink-haired player currently living with Nanami. You really wanted to see him today, but you didn't want to cause suspicions with Kento and Sophia. Those two were incredibly good at figuring out when you have a crush on someone. This is not the case here with Sukuna - or at least you try to convince yourself about that. Regardless, you're being cautious.
However, your plan is thrown out the window by Sukuna himself, as he walks into the cafe and sits down at your table. Both Nanami and you glare at him in disbelief. He ignores your confused expressions as the waiter approaches and he orders the same thing he did two weeks ago.
"What are you doing here, Sukuna?" Kento questions, clear irritation in his tone.
"I told you this before, I'm extremely superstitious. The last time we had a game on Sunday and I joined you guys for brunch, I scored five goals, may I remind you. So I decided, to include this in my game-day routine." he explains, while gesturing to the situation at hand. His eyes jump in between you and Nanami as he tries to figure out how you feel about his bluntness. "And you, Captain, cannot say anything against this, because tonight, I'm gonna win the game for us."
Nanami is speechless, while the pink-haired guy grins, his enjoyment evident. He is having too much fun with the current situation, in your opinion. Kento looks at you expectantly, he doesn't really have a say in this matter. You were the one to decide that Sunday Brunch was just for the two of you.
You started chewing the inside of your mouth nervously. Sukuna trapped you into a corner: hockey players - or professional athletes in general - were peculiar about their routines. You heard of the most unhinged pre-game routines over the years, you were aware of how much goes into the mental preparation for games. You couldn't possibly sabotage Sukuna's career with the Wizards just because you want to be selfish about the time you spend with your brother. However, this is a really bad idea. You know why the pink-haired idiot is doing this: he wants to spend time with you. But this is a dangerous game, one that your brother would surely not approve of. Sukuna is secretive. He's arrogant and full of himself. He challenges you and is constantly on a mission to irritate you. That's why you don't understand why the next words leave your mouth.
"Sure, everything for the team right?"
Sukuna grins widely, as he crosses his muscular, tatted arms in front of his chest and leans back in his chair. His dark eyes are glimmering with joy as he looks at you, winking sneakily.
"Okay, Bambi. But..." he sighs deeply "If your performance falters, Sukuna, this ends right away."
"Understood!" he agrees, saluting your brother jokingly.
That Sunday, Sukuna scores a hat trick and gets an assist. It seems like he is determined not to screw up this unique opportunity to spend meaningful time with you every fricking Sunday. After the game, Akane, Senna, and Sophia convince you to go out with them and the team as they're celebrating the goaltender's birthday. You agree, despite knowing that you are gonna regret this decision in the morning. You often join the team for these kinds of occasions considering you have a good relationship with every one of them. You're having a good time, chasing around coach Yaga's kid, who has an unmistakable bump on his forehead. He probably ran into a table or something earlier, but it doesn't stop him from running around like a maniac. Once you catch him and pick him up, you are determined to deliver him back to his mother, who is to your frustration, talking to Sukuna.
"How are your brothers? Aren't they missing you now that they're far away from you?" you don't want to listen to their conversation, but you can't really help it as you hear the question being asked.
"They're gonna be alright. It's Yuji's draft year so he was about to move away soon anyway. And Choso is Choso, he's gonna go wherever Yuji goes."
Sukuna spots you and grins, he cannot help but think that you look incredible, even with the child clinging to your side.
"Special delivery!" you exclaim as you give the child back to his mother. The toddler's energy has faltered significantly and his mother looks at you gratefully for tiring him out. She says goodbye to you, leaving you alone with Sukuna.
"You have brothers?" you ask curiously.
"It's not nice to listen to someone's conversation, you know, sweet pea?!"
"I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"Don't worry your pretty little head, I don't really care honestly." he teases "Yeah, I do have brothers. Two, to be exact."
"Are you close?"
"Yeah. They're brats tho."
"Figured."
"You wound me, y/n. I'll let you know, I am the best brother ever."
"I doubt that."
"Well, I would be the best boyfriend for sure, there would be not doubt about that one." he adds, winking at you, mischief evident in his features. You can't help the blush appearing on your face and Sukuna relishes the feeling of pride that takes over him. He was right, it is 100 times better now that he can see your reactions.
"You're such a flirt, Sukuna."
"Only for you, y/n. I hope you know that."
"Yeah? Prove it."
"Well, how about you let me take you out on a date once I'm back from our road trip?" you knew he was a straightforward guy, but he never expected him to be this blunt. His eyes scan your face rapidly for any kind of reaction, you get that feeling again, that he can read your thoughts just by looking at you. You misjudged him. You thought this guy was a master of hiding his feelings, but this time around, his eyes are sparkling with hope. He doesn't seem worried or scared of rejection, which is slightly irritating, but what did you expect from a guy with a big ego like his?! "I don't have all day, y/n!" he frowns, and despite his words seeming harsh, they come out as more nervous than demanding. You have him under a spell that he cannot understand just yet, he feels the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he impatiently waits for your answer. Suddenly, you smile brightly and Sukuna's worries are forgotten just like that.
"Okay. I'll let you take me out on a date."
Sukuna is beaming with happiness, but unfortunately, it doesn't last too long. On their way to Kyoto, Kento sits beside him on the bus.
"What do you want from my sister?" he asks, his demeanor completely different from the usual.
"What?"
"You heard me! First, you get yourself invited to brunch. Then, you're openly flirting with her at Panda's party. So, tell me what you want from my sister!"
Sukuna swallows hard, his Adam's apple jumping visibly. He has to play his cards right, otherwise he will have to forget about your date. He is perceptive enough to know, that you would never go out with him if your brother didn't approve of it. He knew from day one that he had to get Kento's blessing. He considered doing the cliche things that happen in movies and books, hiding it from him and letting the whole thing explode in his face, but Sukuna has a stronger sense of justice and fairness than to betray the person who took him in like that.
"I asked her out on a date. I don't think I have to tell you, but your sister is gorgeous, intelligent, and absolutely amazing. I plan to treat her with respect, I don't want to hurt her feelings. I will not tell anyone on the team about this, you know that I do not participate in locker-room talk and I don't plan on changing that. I would like to take her out to a nice restaurant and have a great conversation with her. Those are my intentions for now."
"For now?"
"Well, I don't want to get ahead of myself. I won't say that I would like that date to be followed by a second one, because there's no guarantee that's something she would enjoy. I do believe she is special, but whatever this leads to, she will be the one to set the pace. I would never rush any woman into anything, especially not someone like y/n."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Well, I knew since December that your sister is the kind of person you meet once in a lifetime, guess I had a hunch. And my hunch was right. She deserves the world. And if she gives me a chance, that's exactly what I would like to give."
"What do you mean you knew since December? You barely moved here four weeks ago and it's April. You guys met two weeks ago."
"I spotted her at one of our games. I guessed she traveled with you guys for the Family Game."
"She did. Are you implying you had eyes for her for five months just to get my approval? Or is any of this true?" Kento questions with furrowed eyebrows.
"I'm fucking offended that you would think of me so lowly that I would come up with an elaborate lie like this just to get into your sister's pants. Believe me, if that was the case, I wouldn't care a single bit about your approval." Sukuna explains.
Kento sighs, deeply. He lived with Sukuna for four weeks. The guy is insanely chill, despite his odd looks. He literally goes to practice, works out, and plays video games. He never hears him talking about anyone, especially not women, with disrespect. Hell, he never mentioned any woman before. He's been brutally honest with everyone and he's been nothing but gallant. However, Nanami knows what hockey players are like. He also heard rumors about the pink-haired prodigy from his old teammates. Thus his hesitation.
"Give me a few days. By the time we get back home, I will have your answer."
Sukuna nods understandingly. This is going to be the longest road trip of his entire life.
Part 3
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piratefishmama · 1 year
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Fake it till you make it | Part 12
Check in and going through security were painless, it went by with only minimal sweating from Eddie as his bag went through the scanner, the all clear earning a breath of relief that’d almost raised a few brows. After that Eddie spent the majority of the wait time before boarding practically glued to the windows in the business-class lounge, eyes wide with wonder as he took in all of the planes coming and going from the runway in plain sight before him, Lynda sending Steve pointed little looks every now and then as if to say, “He’s very cute, isn’t he?”
Which Steve had no choice but to agree with, not just for the bit, but also because he was cute. He was very cute, like a kid outside of a candy store trying to inhale candy through the glass windowpanes. He couldn’t believe he’d never noticed just how cute Eddie Munson could be sometimes.
Boarding was trickier. Eddie decided last minute that he was glued to his seat in the lounge. His parents going on ahead to get themselves settled, taking theirs and Steve’s carry on’s with them, Steve stuck behind to coax Eddie into moving. “Eddie you have to get up”
“Ooor I could just stay here, on the ground, where humans belong.” Steve was actually pretty surprised at how strong Eddie’s grip actually was because he couldn’t seem to pry it from the arms of the chair.
“Just think, someday, when you’re a big rockstar, you’ll be travelling in these all the time from place to place!”
“Nuh-uh, we’ll drive there, US only shows, we’ll have coaches.”
“You really wanna spend all that time in a bus with Gareth and Jeff? I mean Frank’s pretty solid but Gareth and Jeff? Pretty sure I remember them both having Cheeto dust on their fingers for a whole week solid one time and don’t even get me started on that time Gareth slurped up mountain dew from the lunch table.”
“That was a dare” Eddie was valiantly choosing not to turn into a puddle of ooey-gooey mess over the fact that Steve knew the names of his bandmates, they’d never believe him, no way did Steve Harrington know who they were. Nuh-uh.
“That was disgusting, is what it was. They don’t even wipe those tables.”
“I know, he got mono.” Sure as hell didn’t get it from makin out with anyone.
“Oh my god. Look, we have to go Eddie.” Hands on hips, typical mom stance.
“…Can you hold my hand like you promised?”
“Yes.” Steve offered his hand, which hesitantly, Eddie took, finally relinquishing his grip on the chair just enough for Steve to yoink him out of it, giving him just enough time to grab his guitar case before he was being pulled down the gangway and onto the plane.
Just like the kisses, all it took was a little coaxing, a gentle nudge to push those fears and anxieties away.
He was practically soup in his reclining window seat business class seat right up until the attendant came by to tell everyone to sit up straight and buckle up for take-off. He didn’t let go of Steve’s hand though. Their seats were next to each other, and that hand was glued to his. “Is it too late for me to run away?” Eddie asked, eyes on the window as the gangway was retracted, ignoring the captain’s announcement over speakers greeting them and thanking them for choosing the airline.
“Little bit, yeah.” Steve gave his hand a gentle squeeze as the plane began its slow crawl to the runway. “I’ve got you though, okay?”
“Okay.” There were no delays, there was no waiting, the plane made its way directly to the runway and rounded the corner to the long strip of tarmac that it’d take off from, engines thrumming, Eddie’s hand gripped his tighter, those big brown eyes wide on that window.
“Eddie”
“What?”
“Look at me.” Eddie, with great hesitance, turned away from the window and looked to Steve. The plane started moving. Steve, with his free hand, reached forward and took Eddie’s jaw, easing him in closer, those doe eyes flicking down as if expecting something more “focus on me, not on the window.”
“But—”
“On me, Bambi, eyes on me.” The plane sped up, faster and faster, machinery whirring, the sound of metal and gears moving filling the plane as the wings adjusted to climb, Eddie wanted to ask, wanted to check, just to make sure that the plane was supposed to be making those sounds, but he could barely breathe under Steve’s gaze, trapped in it, Bambi rattling around in his head because where had that come from? And then they were climbing. “You can look now, baby” he blinked, his head snapped round to the window to see clouds.
“Holy shit we’re—”
“We’re flying” Steve finished, giving his hand another squeeze.
“We’re flying, holy fuck!” There was that smile, toothy, dimpling his cheeks, Eddie’s free hand pressed against the window, face pressed up next to it as he tried to look up until the clouds cleared for him, revealing nothing but blue skies above and the cottony white of the cloud tops beneath.
He didn’t even notice the disgruntled looks or the mutters of stuck up rich people, didn’t notice the negativity he was receiving from the other business class flyers, all of which were promptly subdued by the scathing expressions of all three Harringtons combined. He didn’t even notice that he’d slipped his own hand free just to press that one against the glass too.
Steve caught his mother pressing a hand to her chest over her heart as she watched him, clearly deeply affected by his childlike wonder at something all three of them, likely everyone in that section, took for granted as if it were just driving a car, or riding a bike.
Nine more hours to go.
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“Have you ever joined the mile high club?” It was as though Eddie timed the question, waiting until the perfect moment, the first gulp of a complementary glass of champagne that Eddie politely declined for himself as more of a shots shots shots!! Type of guy, it was as though he timed it precisely for the moment that Steve took his first sip.
It went down the wrong hole, Steve winding up choking in his seat on his first glass of champaign while Eddie grinned like a maniac, his legs pulled up criss-cross on the reclined seat while most of the eyes in the section turned to look upon them in judgement.
His parents just shook their heads and continued with their conversations, something about business, Eddie hadn’t been paying too much attention to them both since he’d gotten tired of watching clouds go by. Couldn’t even make shapes out of them that high up, it was just a blanket in most places, all the definition and shape on the underside.
He was waiting for a moment to be childish.
“W-what?” Steve asked through his coughs, Eddie took a little pity on him and gave his back a couple of firm smacks to help clear out the liquid.
He wasn’t done though. “Mile high club, y’know, sex in a plane? Your exploits in the boudoir, Sir Harrington are legendary, I simply must know if you’ve ever gotten down an dirty in one of those tiny bathrooms on these things.” Steve caught the look his mother sent him, the slow turn of her head, the dry raised brow, then his father leaning forward in his chair, his own brow raised in question, his father slightly more entertained than his mother.
“No!” Steve spluttered “No, I haven’t, I wouldn’t I—”
“Liar liar pants on fire, you would, you know you would, how could you lie to me on our first trip as a family, Steven I’m heartbrok—”
“Eddie oh my god, why?” What had he done to deserve this?
“Bored.” Such a simple answer, Steve had hired a demon. It was the only explanation, Eddie was sent to torture him by being mischievous and cute, should have been way more cautious about anything Dustin suggested. “An you totally have, I’m sure of it.”
“Oh, and what makes you so sure?”
“W—”
“Don’t answer that.” Steve very quickly thought against allowing him to answer when his question was followed by thee most devious grin Eddie Munson had ever displayed in public. “Just sleep like most people do on these things.”
“When have I ever been able to be defined by the words ‘like most people,’ Stevie? I laugh in the face of most people, most people tremble in fear at the very mention of my name~ muwahaha” It wasn’t actually fair how easily he could make Steve crack a smile. No matter how annoying he was being, how unusual, no matter whether he was clearly trying to annoy the other passengers now that he’d noticed their looks.
Steve couldn’t fight the traitorous smile that snuck upon his lips and why would he want to when Edde seemed to light up like Christmas when he got that magical smile? When his shenanigans were proven effective at getting Steve to smile like that? “Is that your actual name or your dungeons and dorks name?”
“Mostly the dungeons and dorks name, if I’m honest, I have a reputation, it’s pretty brutal. I killed Gare-bear within ten minutes of a campaign once he sat there fuming for the whole session.” It’d been a complete fluke, a bad run of rolls right out of the gate, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. So much so that Gareth threw the dice into a bonfire afterwards so they could never do harm again. Hilarious to everyone else though. “Have you though?” Eddie lowered his voice, leaning in just enough to appear quiet in his probing,
“Have I what?” Steve finally felt right enough to take another sip of his drink.
“Y’know…” Eddie pressed his forefinger and thumb together and stuck his other finger into the hole twice then pointed upwards with both hands, wordlessly, as if playing charades. “Wink wink, nudge nudge, airplane bathroom?” Charades ruined somehow still charming.
Steve was in trouble, but future Steve could deal with that trouble. Present day Steve had an adorable metalhead to fuck with.
“Bambi, if you’re looking to lose something today, how about we wait for a bedroom, m’kay? Way more spacious than the bathroom on one of these things, trust me.” Ended with a side-eyed wink and another cheeky sip of his wine while Eddie just sat there wide eyed, cheeks flushing with colour as those words sunk in.
“You HAVE!” Wrong words sunk in, dammit.
Part 14
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Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 7)
Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader
5.2k words
Warnings: Language, Roy being kind of a dom, unprotected sex, kind of cum play, fingering, some overstimulation, lots affection and fluff
@agentstarkid more brain rot and alllllll the fluff!
A/N: Going to be taking a week off from this story to do some planning! Excited for the next few chapters! 😘
Series Masterlist
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After roughly wiping down your thighs, mumbling something about them getting ruined again anyways, Roy’s dark eyes trailed up your sweat-covered body as he bent down to pick your panties off the floor. Keeping your gaze, he stuffed the drenched lace into his pocket and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“You got your room key?” he asked huskily. Your muted nod had him smirking at you. “Then let’s go.”
He quickly tugged down your dress to cover your bare cunt, briefly letting his fingers ghost over your entrance, chuckling at your soft gasp. Keeping his arm around you, Roy swiftly moved the chair back where it belonged and guided you through the door.
Before you stepped fully into the hallway, you looked up at him, eyes wide and wild. “Could I borrow your jacket?” you hissed.
“Why?”
“M’back’s probably full of fucking hickeys,” you reminded him pointedly.
Roy’s normally soft brown eyes were nearly black. “What, you don’t want anyone seeing my teeth marks on you?” His grip dug into your hip harshly as his mouth found your ear. “Oh no, Empress. I want everyone to see what you’ve been up to.” His eyes trailed down your figure for a moment. “Although, you may want to walk quickly. Unless you want something to start leaking out of you- then everyone will know all the things you let me do to you.”
Shit. Should you really be this turned on by how… mean Roy was being? By the devilish way he looked at you? By the deep, gruff growl he spoke with? By the way his hand was very publicly just above your ass, as if you were his possession?
Whether or not you should be turned on… well, you definitely fucking were.
When you gave a little wobble in your heels, Roy tightened his grip with a dark laugh. “Look at you,” he tutted, his own stride strong, confident, steady. “Like fucking Bambi over here, can’t even fucking walk, poor thing. Better get you in bed.” But the hungry look on his face told him you wouldn’t be resting once you got there.
As you focused on trying to remember how to walk on your wobbly legs, Roy scanned the lobby. With the early morning hour and the party still raging behind you, it was fairly empty, most people paying no mind to the football legend and F1 star, both flushed and disheveled, making their way to the lifts that led up to the lavish bedrooms.
Really, only one person noticed.
Isaac McAdoo’s eyes widened when he saw the two of you. Yeah, the guys had teased Roy about his obvious little crush on you. And Jamie clearly thought it went beyond just the crush and was fully convinced that there was a romance starting. But, shit, he didn’t expect to actually see Roy with his arm around you, making a beeline for the elevators.
Roy froze for a fraction of a second when he noticed his captain, a stop so brief you didn’t even notice. He gave Isaac a steely nod across the lobby, assuring his player that yes, his eyes were working correctly- and that he’d better keep his mouth shut.
With raised eyebrows, Isaac nodded back. Shit, good for Roy, he thought. The man deserved some fun. And Isaac sure as hell wasn’t about to rat him out.
Refocusing on his mission, Roy steered you to the lift, practically punching the button and chewing on his bottom lip as the elevator made its way down. Once the doors opened, Roy quickly tugged you inside. You immediately pressed your floor number and turned to Roy, whose mouth was on your neck the moment the doors closed again.        
“Remember what you said that night we met?” he hummed against your skin. “Your mother being horrified about you having a man in your room?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, hands exploring Roy’s back, your tight grip keeping you upright.
He left you a new bite mark. “What I’m about to do to you would probably fucking kill both our mums,” he teased, pulling back when he heard the ding of the elevator. “Lead the way.”
With Roy’s hand now grabbing your ass, you walked as fast as your weak legs could carry you, both excited and apprehensive about what Roy had planned for you. Whatever it was, you knew it would leave you even weaker in the knees. And it would probably be something you’d think about while alone in bed.
Your fingers fumbled with your cardkey a little at the door, prompting Roy to grab the card out of your hand and press it to the reader himself.
“You poor thing,” he cooed as he opened the door. “Am I making you nervous, darling?”
As you stepped into your room, you found your boldness again. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you trying to make me nervous, Kent?” you teased, tugging him by the belt loop to follow you inside.
His thick eyebrows flew up. “Are we being rude again, Empress?” He locked the deadbolt on your door pointedly. “Do we need a reminder about our fucking manners?”
Yeah, your dress was probably ruined at this point; you were soaking wet for him. “I think we do,” you hummed, your voice thick and mischievous.
“In that case…” He pushed you towards the bed, his hands flying to his trousers. “You better take that dress off. And I want to see you ready on all fours.”
How did he manage to make his voice sound deeper than usual? “Yes, Coach,” you purred, turning your back to him. Knowing that he had those dark eyes trained on you, you slowly unzipped your dress and let it fall into a puddle on the floor, quickly unhooking your bra and adding it to the pile. After stepping out of your heels- and finding that you were still having trouble standing even without them- you quickly got on the bed, lifting your ass to give Roy the view he wanted.
“Fucking hell,” he rasped, the sound of his approaching footsteps enough to have you clenching around nothing. “That for me?” His hands were warm on your ass as he gripped tightly, kneading the flesh roughly. “Or is this for some pretty boy?”
You arched your back, melting under his touch. “For you,” you breathed, closing your eyes. “All for you, Roy Kent.”
He shivered at the sound of his name dripping from your lips like honey, the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
The mattress dipped as he joined you on the bed, settling behind you. One hand slithered up your back, gently tracing one of the purple marks he’d given you. “Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured. “All mine.” You whimpered when you felt his tip brush your sensitive entrance. “Tell me,” he ordered softly. “Tell me how much you want this cock.”
You squirmed towards him, desperate to feel him inside you again. “Need you,” you gapsed. “Need you so fucking bad, Roy.” You turned your head to look over your shoulder at him. “Only you.”
His soft grunt was heavenly as he sank into you, watching the way you rocked back to meet him. The long, low moan that poured out of your mouth had him twitching inside you and reaching up to grab a fistful of your hair. His gentle tug had a smile curling on your lips; fuck, you liked this side of Roy, all mean and possessive and needy. It had you feeling wanted in a way you’d never experienced, in a way you didn’t want to let go of.
As if he could read your mind, Roy pulled out and rammed back into you roughly, jolting your entire body. “Don’t want you to be able to walk tomorrow,” he growled, giving a harsher tug to your hair. “Want you to spend the whole day in bed, thinking about me.” He slammed into you over and over, a rough, desperate rhythm that had your legs already shaking. “You looked so fucking good tonight,” he grunted. “Who’d you look so fucking pretty for? Hmm? Another driver? That pretty prick? Someone else?”
“For you,” you panted, fingers gripping the sheets. “Just for you.”
Roy’s chuckle was empty and dark. “That why you were hiding from me? And hanging all over him?” As if to show you his hurt and frustration, he gave a particularly rough thrust that had your face buried into a plump pillow.
You tilted your head to the side and blew some stray hair out of your face. “Dunno,” you huffed. Another moan escaped your lips as he pounded your aching cunt over and over, making it hard to think clearly, let alone actually answer Roy’s question. “’m sorry.”
His movements paused, leaving you whining as your pussy clenched around him. “Prove it,” he taunted. “Prove you’re fucking sorry.” The confused whimper you gave had him smirking at you. “Fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl.”
It was kind of pathetic how quickly you did as he demanded. But sure enough, you braced yourself against the mattress and rutted back into him, choking back a sob as you felt his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside you.
“Again,” came his gruff command.
Arms shaking, you repeated the movement. And again. And again. Your body was exhausted as you thrust against him, feeling his hips slam against your bare ass. He let go of your hair and settled both hands on your hips with a bruising grip, gritting his teeth.
“Make yourself come,” he hissed, his fingers digging into your skin. “Be a good girl and make that gorgeous cunt come for me.” His smirk returned.
Desperate to please him and feel those familiar waves of pleasure, you quickened your pace, panting and whimpering as you sloppily fucked Roy, not caring about looking pretty for him; not that he minded. With the beads of sweat that trailed down your neck and the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you chased your high, you were sinfully beautiful to Roy.
Fuck, a man could fall in love with this view.
“Roy,” you sobbed, feeling like you were going to fall apart. “’m gonna- ‘m gonna-”
“Come for me, baby.”
He took over for you, driving his cock deep inside you, his chest warming with pride as he felt you tighten around his cock. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing and clenching, as if nothing else could ever satisfy you; and fuck, maybe that was true. Your cunt was overwhelmed from the third orgasm Roy took from you, spasming with pleasure as your limbs lost all feeling. As your vision went white, your arms gave out beneath you; only Roy’s firm grip kept you from completely collapsing onto the mattress. He watched carefully as your body went limp under his touch. Satisfied that you were coming down from your high, he tenderly pulled out of you, still hard and throbbing.
The side of your face was still pressed to the pillow as you gazed at his cock, practically drooling at the sight. “Roy?” you croaked out, eager for him to follow you into post-orgasm bliss.
With a wicked glint in his eye, he gently turned you onto your back, tutting sympathetically at your wince. “Remember what I said on the phone?” he hummed, leaning down to grope your breast with one hand as he stroked his rigid length with the other. “Wanna see you all covered up.”
Your body went scorching hot as you wriggled with anticipation; this was definitely an image you’d conjured up more than a few times since Roy had mentioned the idea. And after tonight, seeing how painfully jealous he’d gotten, your bruised cunt continued to throb at the idea of Roy making you his in such a dirty way.
He licked his lips as he watched your squirming figure, already filled with his release, three orgasms leaving you a disheveled, glistening mess. There you were, the Empress. The woman who’d long occupied many of his fantasies and had been filling most of his thoughts since Silverstone. Earlier tonight, you had another man’s hands on you, and before that, you were standing on a podium, covered in champagne, adoring fans screaming your name. And now there you were, gazing up at him with tired, lust-filled eyes, practically begging him to cover you with his release.
How could the most miserable man in the world get so fucking lucky?
“Want me to come for you?” he grunted, feeling so dirty as he stroked himself, his whole body trembling. “All over those pretty, pretty tits?”
Your desperate nod had him twitching in his hand. “All over me,” you purred, back arching. “Because I’m yours.”
Fuck.
Roy felt like his whole body was filled with electricity as he pumped his cock, shooting his release onto your breasts, his mouth open wide in awe as he watched his stickiness mix with your sweat. His eyes widened as he watched you, completely fucked out and in something of a daze, lift your head and stick out your tongue- a pathetic attempt to lick up the mess he’d made on you.
Jaw slacking, he bent over you and used two fingers to scoop up some of his cum, not bothering to hold back his groan when you greedily devoured what he offered you, swirling his fingertips with your tongue as you licked his digits clean.
“You…” He shook his head, cupping your cheek with his clean hand. “You are so fucking perfect,” he chuckled, all darkness gone from those soft brown eyes. He gazed down your spent body, gulping when he realized the absolute mess he’d made of you. “Let me…” He cleared his throat. “Fuck, let me clean you up, gorgeous.” He pressed a tiny kiss to your forehead and climbed off the bed, pausing only to grab his discarded boxers off the floor as he walked to the bathroom.
With a soft sigh, you gazed up at the ceiling, thinking about how jealous Roy had gotten, how possessive he was. How hurt he’d looked when you found him in the hallway. A man doesn’t get that way over just some hookup, you thought.
He returned with a damp washcloth, sitting down on the bed without a word. Tenderly, gently, he wiped down your body, cleaning your chest and between your legs. When he finished, he leaned down and kissed your lips softly.
“Bathroom?”
When you nodded, he swiftly lifted you, wincing a little when his knee cracked, and carried you to the restroom.
“Roy,” you giggled, “you don’t have to-”
He kissed your mouth again, a little deeper now. “Hush. Fucking let me take care of you.”
After you finished in the restroom, Roy picked you up again, laying you gently on the bed. The smile he offered you was the absolute softest, most adoring smile you’d ever seen in your life.
“As much as I love this body of yours, let’s get some fucking clothes on you, yeah?”
Suddenly, you had energy again, scrambling to sit up. “Oh, let me grab-”
A firm hand pushed you back down. “I said let me take care of you.” With a teasing smirk, Roy stood up and crossed over to the dresser. “Your stuff in here? Or have you been living out of your fucking suitcase all weekend?”
Feeling bashful for the first time all night, you bit your lip. “Second drawer,” you huffed.
Shooting you a quizzical look at the sight of your sudden timidness, Roy opened the drawer and pulled out a fresh pair of underwear. He cocked his head as something familiar caught his attention. “Oi, is this…” He turned around with raised eyebrows, holding up a black t-shirt. “Is this mine?”
“Maybe,” you mumbled, averting your gaze and suddenly feeling… exposed.
Roy felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest as he returned to bed. “And why do you have my shirt?” he hummed as he slipped your panties over your ankles. “Why’d you bring that thing all the way to fucking Belgium?” His eyes sparkled mischievously as he tugged up your underwear, following the material with a sprinkling of light kisses up your legs.
You weren’t sure if your squirming was from embarrassment or the kisses on your sensitive skin. “Just… dunno.” You gave a little huff. “Smells like you,” you murmured.
“Smells like me,” Roy repeated. He pressed the tiniest of kisses to your pussy before pulling your panties over it. “You like the way I smell, then?”
Despite your embarrassment, you smiled at him. “Maybe,” you hummed. You sat up, reaching for said t-shirt.
He paused, thoughtfulness crossing his bearded face. “Lemme see your back.” He winced when you leaned forward, showing off the smattering of purple marks and bites he’d left. “Shit.” Popping his lips, he stood up and went to the bathroom, emerging with another washcloth. “Right, turn over then.”
With a small squeak, you flipped onto your belly, realizing how fucking sore you were. Roy gently pressed the washcloth to your back, his face heated with embarrassment as he took in the evidence of his behavior. Not exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d agreed to come to Belgium.
“’m sorry,” he finally breathed as he continued to nurse your back. “I… your back…” He cleared his throat. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you chuckled. “Honestly, it’s fine.”
He sighed and laid a small kiss on a particularly dark hickey. “If there… if you… if you didn’t like that, I will never act like that again.” His voice was rushed, thick with awkwardness. “Don’t fucking know what came over me.”
You tilted your head to look at his furiously blushing face. “Roy,” you said firmly, the corners of your mouth lifting. “I actually enjoyed myself. Hopefully the three orgasms I had are evidence enough of that, hmm? As for what came over you…” You turned back over and sat up, taking one of Roy’s hands in yours. “I think you were suffering from green eyes, hmm?”
Roy grunted as he tossed the washcloth onto the nightstand. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, an embarrassed grin crossing his face as he picked up the black t-shirt. “Arms.” You lifted your arms, allowing Roy to tug the shirt over your head, covering your body comfortably. “Under the covers, you.”
Rolling your eyes at his avoidant behavior, you scrambled under the blankets, thrilled to see him join you; without any prompting, Roy Kent was spending the night. He wrapped an arm around you carefully, tugging you close.
“Roy?”
“Yeah?”
You shifted so you were facing him, hooking one still-weak leg over his hip. “You don’t need to be jealous, you know that?” You pressed a kiss to his furry chest, right over his heart. “You never need to be jealous. Not… not when it comes to me.”
He paused for a moment, not quite looking at you. “I just… didn’t like seeing his hands on you,” he whispered, stroking your waist. “Especially after you didn’t invite me to come here.”
“That’s fair,” you agreed. “I’m sorry.”
“Why didn’t you want me here?” His voice was full of that same hurt you’d seen in the hallway.
You pressed your body close to his, tilting your head so you were finally looking each other in the eye. “I…” You took a deep breath. “Things are just… different. This isn’t… this isn’t just sex for me anymore, Roy.”
It felt like the longest ten seconds in the world before Roy opened his mouth again. “I… don’t think it’s ever been just sex for me.”
For once, you didn’t bother hiding your smile from him. Instead, you pressed your lips to his, probably the softest you’d kissed him since you’d met. His hand snaked up your back, gripping you softly, careful not to press those purple marks he’d left you. When he finally broke the kiss, Roy was smiling so broadly you thought his face would break.
“You better get some rest,” he breathed, pecking your nose. “Some horrible bastard was pretty mean to you tonight.”
With a smirk, you settled in his arms, tiredness overcoming your exhausted body. “Yeah. But he’s pretty hot, so I’d let him do it again.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he growled playfully, snuggling close as you finally closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.
~
Roy’s sleepy smile was the first thing you saw when you woke up. He was sitting up already, one arm wrapped around you as you rested on his stomach.
“Morning,” came his gruff, gentle voice as his free hand stroked your cheek. “Sleep well?”
You nodded, stretching. “Always sleep well after… you know.” A small groan escaped your swollen lips as you realized how heavy your entire body was, how it felt like it could melt through the mattress and onto the floor. With an involuntary grimace, you genuinely wondered how the fuck you were supposed to walk.
Of course, Roy noticed. “Alright there?”
“Tired,” you mumbled, bringing up one of your heavy arms to wrap around his middle. “Had a bit of a rough night,” you teased.
A kiss landed on the top of your head. “Which you took very well,” Roy murmured, in that thick, syrupy voice he’d mocked you with last night. Already, it had your sore pussy throbbing with excitement. As if he could tell, his hand slid down your back until it rested firmly on your ass. “You were such a good girl.”
The sound of your breath hitching and the sight of your furious blush spurred him on. Without warning, Roy pulled you up until you were sitting between his thick thighs, your back pressed against his bare chest. Instinctively, you leaned into him, craning your neck to grant him access, which he thanked you for with a sloppy kiss to your collarbone.
“Want me to take care of you?” he breathed as he used one hand to pry your sore thighs open. “Want me to make you feel good?” The whimper that spilled from your lips was all he needed to encourage him to tug your panties to the side and let two fingers explore your already wet cunt. “Oh, darling,” he cooed. “She’s still soaked.”
“Roy,” you gasped as his fingers began to spread your lips, smearing your wetness over yourself. “Don’t think I can-”
His tongue traced a heart on your neck. “Shh, I know baby,” he whispered. “Just let me make you feel good, yeah?” He kissed your temple as his middle finger inched into you. “Let me spoil you.”
For the second time in less than twelve hours, Roy Kent buried his finger inside your wetness, groaning softly as you tightened around him. Your hands gripped his thighs, needing something to anchor you to reality as you melted into pleasure. Your thighs trembled as he slowly pumped into your aching cunt, shaky breaths and soft moans letting Roy know he was doing his job.
His strokes were slow and deliberate, just like the deep kisses he pressed to your neck. He cherished every detail about you: your beautiful little whimpers, the way you pressed yourself against him, the squelching sound from under the covers. After a particularly desperate moan, Roy added a second finger, smirking at the way your body trembled against his. Fuck, he could do this all day. All week. Hell, for the rest of his life.
“You did so well last night,” he hummed, dragging his fingers against your fluttering walls. “So fucking good for me, you know that, beautiful?” An open-mouthed kiss found your neck. “You were perfect, my perfect girl.”
Your eyes fluttered as you squirmed against him. “Roy,” was all you could manage, your strangled voice letting him know you were approaching your climax.
“And all mine,” he continued as his thumb rubbed your clit gently; he chucked when your entire body jerked. “You like being all mine, gorgeous?”
“Yours,” you answered, more a whine than a moan as you began to roll your hips into his hand.
His free arm wrapped around your middle, stilling you. “Uh-uh, Empress.” He kissed your cheek, his beard tickling your skin. “Allow me.”
With that, he thrust his fingers deeper into you, not stopping until his digits completely disappeared into your cunt. He repeated the move, over and over, fucking you gently as the pad of his thumb continued pressing into your clit. When he felt you desperately clench around his fingers, he finally quickened his pace, giving you exactly what your body wanted.
“Think you could come for me one more time, baby?” His voice was practically begging as his grip around your tummy tensed. “Think you’ve got one more for me?”
Your eyes rolled back, and you were pretty sure there was a little drool in the corner of your mouth. It felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces as Roy expertly dragged over your clit and slid his tongue over your skin. With one perfect little bit of pressure to your bundle of nerves, Roy had you falling apart in his arms, a beautiful, whimpering little mess on his lap. When you tilted your face to his, he captured your mouth in a kiss, swallowing your pretty noises as he pumped in and out of your aching cunt.
When your moans turned to soft gasps, Roy eased his fingers out of you, laughing lovingly at your disappointed whine. As his hand emerged from under the covers, you slumped against his body and expectantly opened your mouth.
“Oh no,” Roy chuckled. “This is all mine, baby.” With that, he brought his fingers to his mouth, a deep moan vibrating against you as he sucked his digits clean. “Fuck, you are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.” He kissed your mouth harshly, a kiss full of joy and affection. “Think I could taste you forever.”
He let you lay on top of him, listening as your breaths became steady again. You weren’t sure how much time passed, but eventually the two of you found yourselves laying down, your head on Roy’s chest, his hand in your hair. It was peaceful, just as natural as any rough, semi-public fling you’d shared. As you listened to his heartbeat, you found yourself speaking without thinking.
“I’ve got a month off,” you hummed. “Think I could meet you at a few away games?”
He wondered if you could hear his heart skip a beat. “Come to as many matches as you want. Home, away, all of ’em. Hell, come stay in Richmond the whole fucking month. I’d fucking love that.”
“Yeah?” You brought yourself up, laying your chin on his chest. “Don’t think you’d get sick of me, Kent?”
“Could never get sick of you,” he assured you, poking your nose affectionately. “Honestly. If you’re interested, you should come hang out in Richmond. We’d have fun, I think.” His eyes searched yours. “If you want.”
Your bright smile had his chest tightening with joy. “Yeah. We’d have fun.” You pressed a kiss to his chest. “Guess I’m spending my break in Richmond.” You reached for the nightstand. “Hand me my phone? Gonna go ahead and book my hotel.”
Roy squirmed beneath you, a complete change from the confidence he’d shown earlier in the morning. “Actually… what would you say to staying with me?”
“Staying with you,” you echoed, wondering if he could feel the heat that covered your body. You thought a moment; that little voice of doubt that seemed to always come around when Roy was on your mind screamed at you to stop, to ask him to leave, to end it here and now before things went too far and you found yourself shattered again.
But another voice was begging you to let this man, with his brown eyes and growling voice, adore you the way he wanted to.
“I mean,” Roy continued, glancing away. “We’re probably going to end up in bed together every other night, anyway. Saves us the back and forth. And I’ve got a guest room if you get sick of my fuckign snoring.”
His sudden shyness had you making your decision.
“I’d love to.” You reached up and traced his lips with your finger. “Although, ending up in bed together every other night? You’re underestimating us, Kent.”
The joyful laugh that flew out of his mouth was interrupted by the sound of his phone vibrating next to yours on the nightstand. “Hold that thought.” He picked it up and glanced at it, immediately throwing his head back with a groan. “Fucking hell,” he sighed. “Gotta get ready to meet the guys.” He studied your face for a moment. “Don’t suppose you’d want to come with us? You’ve already got a suitcase.”
That earnest look on his face had you feeling like an entire zoo was living in your stomach.
“As much as I’d love to travel with you and Jamie and Sam and Isaac,” you teased, “I’d like more than just a few days’ worth of clothes. And besides-” You pulled your face to Roy’s, tapping his nose with yours. “-I’ve got a drawer full of lingerie back in Monaco. Don’t you think I’ll need some of those things in Richmond?”
His eyes widened for a fraction of a moment. “Yeah, you should definitely go home and pack whatever you need,” he agreed in a half-joking voice. “I’m a patient man, I’ll see you in Richmond.”
You kissed his lips happily. “See you in Richmond.”
~
It took some effort on both of your parts to finally say goodbye, promising to see each other soon. Roy felt like he was walking on air as he eventually made his way down to the lobby with his duffel bag. What a difference one night could make; he’d woken up Sunday morning feeling more miserable than usual, and this morning he was fighting a grin every time he pictured your pretty face.
It didn’t take a genius to notice, so he shouldn’t have been surprised by Jamie Tartt’s smug expression.
“Where’d you end up last night, Roy?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. “You never came back to the party.”
He shrugged, doing his best to keep a straight face. “Fucking went to bed.”
Jamie winked at him. “And whose bed would that be?”
Sam clapped his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Oh, leave him alone.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Roy’s not the kind of guy to kiss and tell.”
Before Roy could tell his players to fuck off, Isaac approached, sunglasses on his nose and backpack on his shoulder. As Jamie and Sam turned to begin walking out of the hotel, Isaac looked at Roy over the top of his sunglasses, eyebrows raised slightly. Roy offered him a smirk and shrug, bobbing his head. With the smallest of grins, Isaac held up his fist, which Roy tapped with his own, cementing an unspoken understanding between the two men.
As Roy stepped out of the hotel, listening to his players chatter about how much fun they had, his phone vibrated. He swiftly pulled it out, shoulders softening when he read the four little words on his screen:
See you in Richmond ❤️
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Taglist:@hotdoglamp@daydreamgoddess14@klaine-92@gibby31@anonurs@taytaylala12@unholyhuntress@thatonedogwithablog@seacactusplant@e-mmygrey@jane-dough @zara-aliza08 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers@deliriousfangirl61@katdahlali @deliriousfangirl61 @seatbacksandtraytables
@andaende @an-anxiousace-from-outerspace
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sweetbunpura · 6 months
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RSA Leader and Vice leaders
Whoops, so these guys would not leave my mind, so help me seven. The only thing I couldn't come up with was the name of the dorms.
Andrew "Andy" Lovington: Dorm leader of RSA Hearts adj, Based on "Alice", Short blond hair with a blue headband, blue eyes, kind but a little ditzy, 2nd year. Unique Magic: "Looking Glass" - Makes a mirror that can hide someone or multiple people in it, they must keep quiet or to a low speaking voice or else the people outside the mirror will hear them.
Bigsy "Hatley" McGee: Vice dorm leader of RSA Hearts adj, based on "Mad Hatter", Black, long light brown hair tied back in a ponytail, wears a green top hat, Grey eyes, mysterious and a bit strange, 2nd year, calls Yuu "Love." Unique Magic: "Tea Time" - Halts time for an hour, can't exceed time limit or he blacks out.
Sissel Kingscholar: Dorm leader of RSA Savana adj, based on "Kovu", Lion beastman, Cousin to Leona, long darker brown hair that has a few braids in it, scar over his eye, yellow eyes, kind but nervous, 2nd year, first year as a dorm leader. Unique Magic: "Lion's Light" - Brings an area into a bountiful lagoon.
Pine Voiser: Vice dorm leader of RSA Savana adj, based on "Maximus", horse beastman, medium length white hair, olive eyes, stoic but a gentleman, 2nd year. Unique Magic: "Captain's Orders" - Gives orders to whoever is in the area of effect.
Riley Nights: Dorm leader of RSA Scarabia adj, based on "Aladdin", short brown hair, tan, friendly yellow eyes, Magicless, very kind and friendly, 2nd year.
Nanu Coulette: Vice Dorm leader of RSA Octa adj, based on "Lilo", Long black hair, TWST equivalent of being Hawaiian, warm brown eyes, Extremely kind and goofy, 2nd year. Unique Magic: "Through my eyes" - Is able to see and talk through his scrump doll, can't use magic through the doll.
Jahzi Al-Asim: Vice dorm leader of RSA Scarabia adj, based on "Jasmine", long brown hair, red eyes, generous and kind (except to Jamil), 2nd year. Unique Magic: "Tiger's eye" - Calms down anyone he casts the spell on, must be looking into his eyes.
Grooves Heights: Dorm leader of RSA Igni adj, Fae, based on "Hercules", medium blond hair, black, vibrant green eyes, nerdy and bubbly, 3rd year, Twin Brother: Lute. Unique Magic: "Olympus' Might" - Grants super strength and durability for a limited time or until he cancels it.
(newly added) Amur Heklia: Jahzi's retainer and best friend, a tiger beastman based on "Raj" who appears at NRC because he's worried about Jahzi being close to Jamil. Neither him of Jahzi are fond of Jamil.
(newly added) Julies Roan: A beastman deer prince, based on "Bambi" hailing from a densely covered forest city located in the Shaftlands. Neige's Vice Dorm leader and a bit nervous and timid kinda guy.
Lute Heights: Vice dorm leader of RSA Igni adj, Fae, based on Hercules' Pegasus, medium blond hair, black, vibrant orange eyes, smooth and dorky, 3rd year, Twin Brother: Grooves. Unique Magic: "Hero's Flight" - Manifest wings to fly around, wings are strong enough to carry people.
Prince Phara: Dorm leader of RSA Dia adj, based on "Prince Philip", short silver hair, keeps a sword at his waist at all times, very gentlemanly and regal, brown eyes, 3rd year, Magicless.
Randolph "Ram": Vice dorm leader of RSA Dia adj, based on "Beast", Ox beastman, large man, long and messy brown hair, Black, short and blunt, stormy gray eyes, 3rd year. Unique Magic: "Hollow Stealth" - Grants the user stealth for a few mins
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lemonkeiku · 1 year
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LOST
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Summary : Ghost was M.I.A and when the team found him after a few weeks, he already changed.
Pairing: Zombie!Ghost x Bambi (OC) (can be platonic, no mention of romance)
Content: zombie!AU, angst, zombie physichal description, crossover with Resident Evil.
Warnings: mention of Resident Evil content, possibly bad English especially the grammar (sorry, English is not my first language) and I haven't written for a long time.
Author's note: I've been committed that in my AU, Call of Duty and Resident Evil was in the same universe. All connected with Bambi (my OC) is the daughter of Chris Redfield HAHAHA
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It was the worst situation they could have imagine. After years serving for the military, fighting on the battle field, declaring wars against terrorists and experiencing dozen of life threaten mission, none of them required them to point their gun to each other. Or to be precisely, to one of them.
It all started a few weeks ago. There was a terrorist attack involving bio-weapon—a virus that could bring back those who were dead and turned them into bloodthirsty monsters that would attack anyone in front of them. The Task Force 141 was sent to deal with this incident but no one had experience with bio-weapon on this scale. Too many unexpected event and the situation got out of control.
Ghost was declared M.I.A. during this mission.
A few weeks later, they came back along with some backup from agencies experienced in dealing with bio-weapons—the BSAA—to clean what they left behind and hope they could find Ghost.
They found him. In an abandoned building not far from where they last saw him. He still wore the same uniform, most of his gear still attached. Even his helmet. He also still wore his mask but the bottom part was ripe off, showing his rooting flesh and exposed jaw bone.
There was no much left from him.
He stared at his team blankly. His eyes turned all white, couldn’t even recognize his teammates. He didn’t talk. Only an unrecognizable growl was heard. No one was sure if he was trying to say something or not.
Nobody could make a move. All of them was shocked that they didn’t know how to react. They never prepared to see Ghost like this. No one prepared to see Ghost like this. They could imagine to find Ghost’s dead body somewhere, not walking around like this. Even Price couldn’t make any decision when he was told to kill every undead they met.
Gaz really could only stand still. His Captain didn’t move, so he wouldn’t make any move. Soap was calling Ghost’s name a few times, thinking he probably still be there. But when Ghost didn’t even flinch, everybody should know that he was no longer with them.
Bambi’s head was crowded by the thought of Ghost being a zombie. She knew he was gone, maybe since they lost him a few weeks ago. Nothing they could do to reverse it. Her father always told her how horrified to loose someone to bio-terrorism. She was told multiple times the best thing she could do for someone who was infected, especially those who already turned. Her father was a long-run bio-terrorism fighter. He had been fighting in the war against bio-weapon for more than twenty years. There was no reason for her not to believe him. She just never thought she would experience it on first hand.
She kept telling herself that Ghost was already dead. The figure in front of her was just his walking empty corpse without a single soul. Without Ghost’s soul in it. He was already gone. She already lost him. There was no way to bring him back.
She could hear Soap kept asking what should they do and they started arguing soon after. All the voice sounds unclear as she couldn’t understand any words that came from them. The voice in her head felt louder, kept convince her that the man she care so much was already gone. She tried to convince herself that keeping him that way just made his fate worse than death. It wasn’t the right thing to do.
As everybody kept arguing in the background, Bambi raised her rifle and pointed it directly to Ghost’s forehead. No one noticed her movements until the sound of the first shot exploded from the tip of her rifle. The first bullet hit his helmet but the second bullet hit the perfect spot between his eyebrows.
His body fell with a loud thud on the ground and almost echoed as everybody stop making any noise. She could hear Soap screamed, maybe to at her. Price was also heard saying something but Bambi couldn’t process anything. Her mind was too messed up to understand what the others were saying. It felt like her soul also leaving her body.
Ignoring the voice that Soap, Price and Gaz were making, she walked to Ghost’s body. It felt like she was a zombie too, like something moved her. She lost her grip and dropped her rifle along the way. She fell on her knees right in front of Ghost’s dead body. And this time he was really dead. She turned his body around, placed his head on her lap as she sat on the ground.
Then, she burst in tears even though she had been trying so hard to control her emotions all this time. She screamed on top of her lungs that people outside the building could hear her mourn. She just shot someone she cared dearly. Even she knew it was right decision she could take, but it felt like a part of her died too with him.
Everybody went silent and leaving only Bambi's anguished cries echoed through the cold walls of that abandoned building. Nobody could say anything.
Ghost was declared K.I.A that day. It didn’t matter exactly when Ghost died, they already lost him since the day he went missing. The grief they felt was far worse than anyone could imagine. None of them have remained the same since that day.
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thefixations-ofmine · 2 months
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You Set Me Ablaze - Chapter 1 : Initial Landing
Pairing: Park Ranger!Evan Buckley x Air Ops!Tommy Kinard Word count: 4k Warnings: Blow job, hand job, semi public, stuff in a helicopter, pet names, come play
Summary: Tommy and the guys from Harbor rent a cabin in a California Parks campground some hours north of Los Angeles. He's hoping to enjoy the time off and participate in engaging team-building activities. Little does he know a blue-eyes boy would be occupying most of his schedule. / Evan is a new park ranger with high hopes to become employee of the month. He didn't expect to have his brain scrambled by the hot helicopter pilot when he picked up their file on his morning chores run. He hopes that his services will grant him a good review.
A/N: I had initially wanted to make a single long fic with this, but I keep getting ideas and I like where this part ends so this will be part 1 of maybe 3.
Main Masterlist | Drabbles Masterlist | AO3
“Thank you for the walkthrough, Ranger Buckley.” Bennet shakes his hand with a truthful smile, and places his bag on the first bed by the door. The young man gleams at the acknowledgement of his good work, his baby blues nearly hidden from his stretched smile. Tommy takes note of the little quirks in his composure as he’s secretly checking them out; his favourite was seeing how white his knuckles turned around the clipboard when their captain started taking his uniform off. Ranger Buckley was standing there, unaware that he was being ogled himself by the beefy man just out of his eyesight. But then he turned in his direction and Tommy swears the kid’s smile sparkled like those toothpaste commercials.
“Pleasure’s all mine gentlemen,” Buck answers, diverting his attention back to the group - not before eyeing Tommy up and down. He turns on a radio and sets it on the wooden desk by the door, where books and maps are scattered. Most had started fading from the sun rays over the years - Tommy would argue that some might actually date back from before Buck was born. The thought of that gap fueled his wicked mind. “If you need assistance, simply call me over the CB. Use ‘Buck’, you’ll get my attention faster,” he adds with a chuckle, taking a step back to exit the door after his note. Tommy’s stomach knots at the sight of him leaving.
“Buck? Like a deer?” Riley half-jokes, but everyone sees the double entendre. Buck has googly blue eyes, and a soft grin. Plus he works in a forest. Has freckles. His hair is god damn fawn-coloured for crying out loud! Add all this to his ungodly long legs, and the man is quite literally the incarnation of Bambi. He must have caught up on the joke, because crimson is slowly creeping up his chest and cheeks. Tommy takes another mental note of that marvelous sight.
“Um, well-” he exhales a nervous laugh. Yeah, Tommy is so done for. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, no. I should put that on a mug!” He knocks twice on the door frame with his index knuckle and turns to head back to the main building. Tommy admires his backside as he’s walking away, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to remember every little detail of his body as if he needed more reasons to obsess over the poor guy. He’s running so many scenarios in his mind and he knows he has to come out of his bubble in the next seconds, and then:
“Buck? Hold on!” He reaches the ranger’s side in a few strides.
“Evan,” the younger man says first. “Please call me Evan.” Fuck, that would be delicious to moan.
“Evan.” Tommy’s body is now slowly changing colours too. He can feel his fingers tingling and his breath quickening. Suddenly, he forgets why he’s even standing here in the brisk evening air, swinging nervously on the balls of his feet. Evan tilts his head, silently waiting for him to come to.
“Are you okay, sir?” Evan eventually asks, pulling Tommy out of his trance with a shiver running down his spine. He’s gotta wiggle his leg to adjust his… growing problem.
“Yeah,” he manages to whisper. “I actually wanted to ask.” He rubs his hands onto his jeans, and licks his lips. You got this, he tells himself. You’ve been to war!
“I’m not a morning person, but I was thinking, maybe I could take you on a chopper tour over the park tomorrow?” The words come out without pause. He smiles, or tries to, as he realises he’s showing way too much teeth - he doesn’t know Evan is currently melting inside at his crinkly nose. When Evan’s mouth opens without a sound, panic sets in and he curses himself for reading this all wrong. “No pressure! I mean, I’m sure you’ve alread-”
“Yes!” Evan finds himself answering with enthusiasm.
“Yes?”
“I would love to. I haven’t had the chance to do this yet. We were thinking of offering the service for guests, but it’s quite difficult to get permits, and those things are expensive!” He stops to take a deep breath, and keeps going. Tommy listens to Evan ramble about the Park’s plans of expansion; watching his hand motions, his eyes grow big with passion, and overall studying him. He leisurely makes paths of where he wants to drag his hands first, then his mouth, and then Tommy has to stop thinking or a leg shake will not cut it.
“It’s settled then,” Tommy says. “After breakfast? I’ll pick you up at the front desk?”
“Sure thing, I’ll be done checking people in by ten,” Evan confirms.
“As long as you’re not checking them out too much,” Tommy teases with a wink and is pleased when the joke is received with a cute laugh. He amicably grabs Evans shoulder, maybe a second too long but Evan doesn’t pull back - Tommy lingers, trying his best to feel the hard muscles under his touch, a big contrast from the usually smaller, twinkier men he’s attracted before. He wonders how rough he could be with Evan…
“I’m Tommy, by the way” he states with urgency. He’s then confused by the chuckle that comes out of Evan.
“I figured,” he says, pointing to Tommy’s embroidered name on his uniform shirt. Smart. Evan returns the innocent touch and, finally, walks away.
***
Evan is up far too early considering the first check-in isn’t before eight. But as soon as the sun hit his face, which was probably around five thirty, he hadn’t been able to keep his mind quiet. There was a moment where he panicked over what to wear, as if he didn’t have a uniform to put on. As if this was an actual date and he was reading too much into it. Tommy was just being nice. He did try to choose the best pieces though; beige cargo shorts, to show the killer calves, a soft and adjusted white t-shirt, sadly covered by his olive green work shirt - he can take the shirt off later, he notes - and lastly his favourite California flag cap. When he is satisfied with the reflection in the mirror, he dumps the rest of his coffee in his insulated mug and heads to work.
It’s around seven when he makes it to the main building, so he’ll have plenty of time to check down some tasks before welcoming guests. He parks his quad by the back where they keep the extra fire logs, and he gets startled by approaching footsteps.
“Morning, Evan.” An oddly familiar voice greets him. It’s slightly more rough though, tired, adding to the morning air shivers that are running on his skin. He turns around, and closing in on him is Tommy, the tall, broad, handsome pilot. He’s wearing long, black, fitted jeans and a grey hoodie. Phenomenal. The dirty Timbs are a bonus, but he will keep that thought for later.
“Hi, Tommy,” he chimes. The smile that comes his way warms his body back up. He checks his watch: “So much for not being a morning person.” He gets another crinkly smile.
“Sorry if I was off, last night,” Tommy begins. “I was tired and the guys had been dumbasses all day. To be honest I was baffled when I saw you and my brain just…  combusted.”
“Baffled?” There’s a bit of confusion in Evan’s voice. He sees Tommy’s expression change, as he realizes the implication of the word, and he replies;
“Oh, gosh. No, I didn’t mean it like…” Tommy rubs his face, thinking. “I didn’t mean it badly. All I meant was that I usually have a good, um, radar. And I didn’t want to overstep while you were working. I didn’t really know which foot to dance on for a minute.”
“Radar?” Evan questions, but he’s being playful now. He knows. He knows that Tommy knows. But he also will not give him what he wants right away. He wants to hear the adonis before him say it out loud. There’s a sparkle in Tommy’s Gatorade blue eyes, he’s got him hooked.
“I, well. I guess I just outed my intentions here.” Tommy takes his hands out of his pockets and seems to relax some more. He even reaches for the hem of Evan’s shirt and toys with it. “You’re cute. Like really cute. And I panicked last night and I try not to be too cutesy in front of my coworkers, so… I just wanted to have a moment with you where I could actually not be a total mess.” Evan gets it. He gets it too well, and he just wants to hug him and say it’s alright and-
“It’s alright Tommy. I-I can’t let that show either while I’m at work. I’m out, but it’s still… not the most comfortable thing to display,” he adds with a half-smile. “If only you knew how hot you were when you got down from that chopper yesterday.” He takes a step closer, rubbing the back of his index finger over Tommy’s forearm. “When you reached for my shoulder last night, I could barely keep my knees in check, but I didn’t want to act on it and be a fool. So we’re even, I guess, for both holding back.” The fucker winks, bringing Tommy’s eyes to his birthmark. His hand is still roaming, tracing the valley of Tommy’s bicep while Tommy’s has settled comfortably on Evan’s hip.
“What if I had lost control and kissed you last night? Would that have scared you off?” He’s being flirted with, and Evan would be damned to cut this off. The way Tommy looks at his lips, and then back into his soul as he waits for an answer has his nape itching with need. It doesn’t help that he’s so close they are currently sharing oxygen.
“A-are you joking? I would have most likely messed up my pants.” 
Tommy laughs, and Evan joins him, but he takes an abrupt step back when the truck of his colleague turns onto the driveway. He smiles, and excuses himself before getting to his tasks. Tommy confirms he’ll be back at ten, and goes on for a stroll around the trails. Evan will find a better opportunity to tell Tommy he’s actually bisexual, if that even matters for the moment.
***
It’s ten a.m. on the dot when the bells on the door jingle and Tommy walks into the main building. It’s a typical forest lodge; everything that can be made out of wood has been carved with skillful hands, and signature paintings from local artists decorate the walls. There’s a faint smell of incense burning and a distant rumble of guests in the lounge area. He’s surprised there aren’t any animal-head trophies displayed anywhere, though he doesn’t care for them.
“See anything you like?” Evan’s sweet voice interrupts. He’s still behind the counter, and Tommy appreciates the distance for now, because if Evan was taking off his shirt and looking at him through hooded eyes within arms reach, he’d be burying his hands in the poor boy’s locks and making a fool of himself in front of the lovely family sifting through the brochures.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Evan adds, walking around the counter with a small bag. “You’re staring, sir.” He teases and it’s only when his hand lands on Tommy’s chest that he comes back to himself.
“I, um. Sorry,” Tommy manages to whisper. He smiles then, and grabs Evan’s bag for him. “Please, let’s get out of here.” They both chuckle and head out to the backyard.
Tommy obviously walks about two feet behind Evan, watching the muscles of his back dance under the tight white undershirt. He allows his gaze to wander onto his lower back, then down his ass where the material of his shorts fold slightly under the bulb of it with each step. There, he thinks. That’s where I wanna dig my fingers. They reach the helicopter and Tommy hurries to open the door, desperate to be out of sight.
“So, did you catch all that”, Tommy asks after running Evan down the take-off, landing, and emergency procedures. He knows that he’s in control if anything were to happen, but he also noted Evan’s damp hand print on the side of the seat and how he took several deep breaths after buckling up. Calming down his nerves will be beneficial for him later. Evan nods with a smile and seems to adjust.
“I guess we’re getting off then!” Tommy winks.
The humming of the engine is quite relaxing and Evan tries to keep breathing through his nose until they're high enough and the scenery around him doesn’t seem to be moving extremely fast. His grip loosens around the edge of the seat, and he rubs the sweat that formed under them onto his shorts. They’re close enough that his elbow nudges Tommy’s arm in the process, gaining his attention.
“You okay, Evan?” Tommy asks, adding comfort through his voice.
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” Tommy reaches to put his hand on his forearm and runs his thumb over - what Tommy doesn’t know - is a very sore muscle in need of attention. Evan manages to swallow the whine that threatens to rat him out. Little does he know the headset mics are very sensitive.
“Alright then, let’s see that side of the mountain first,” Tommy indicates and the chopper leans to the left, bringing Evan shoulder to shoulder with him. He relishes in the touch until they are sat up straight again.
“I can’t thank you enough for proposing to do this…” Evan adds, trying to keep his mind busy. But the hand on his arm is still lingering and he thanks the heavens above that Tommy is experienced enough to maneuver the stick single-handedly. The contact is burning through his skin and he feels himself filling up the last bit of room in his pants.
“Well, it’s my pleasure, trust me.” Tommy’s hand snakes along the top of Evan’s arm, reaching his wrist, and then lacing itself with his and he squeezes. “I have the dreamiest co-pilot.”
The air becomes thick and Evan wiggles in his seat to try and rub away at his current itch, but he reluctantly has to use his hand to pull at the material just enough for his dick to move into a better angle and not throb in pain. He pushes a sigh of relief, but Tommy’s hand lets go of him suddenly, leaving his stomach in a knot.
“You know,” Tommy starts. Evan doesn’t allow himself to look up from his empty hand until Tommy forces him by grabbing his chin. He doesn’t care that they’re several thousand feet in the air, he’ll stare into his eyes as long as Tommy doesn’t get tired of him. “Maybe there is a way for you to thank me properly for today.” There’s no hesitation in his voice, and Evan loves the direction this is taking.
“An- and, that is?” His voice is shaking - whiny.
Tommy chuckles and takes his hand back down onto him, not aiming for his arm. Before Evan knows it, Tommy is expertly looping the button of his cargos out of the loop and then rubs his hand along the inside of his thigh - his rings create a delicious sound against the ripples of the fabric. Evan shivers with his entire body. His hips have a mind of their own.
“I noticed you were having a little situation there,” he looks at Evan’s crotch, then back at his reddening face. Without breaking eye contact, he digs his hand into the front of Evan’s pants, cupping his entire semi and Evan salivates at the contact - his previous encounters had never engulfed him so easily, he starts leaking at the thought of Tommy’s deadly grip around him. But sadly: “Why don’t you show me what you’re working with, sweet boy,” Tommy adds, turning back to watch their surroundings while Evan proceeds to get himself situated.
Evant lets out a strangled moan as he pumps himself slowly, once and twice, and he’s hard and sensitive and toying with the pressure of his fingers around his tip to try and slow down his impending orgasm. It feels like his first time discovering that the appendage between his legs had nerve endings, and he��s gushing precome at an alarming rate.
“Good boy,” Tommy rasps between two peaks at Evan. His free hand sits on his own dick, not applying any pressure, just holding himself as if he was trying to keep a monster caged in. Not wanting to let it die, yet keeping the attention away from himself a little longer though the sight of Evan’s thick, curved dick would never stop the blood from rushing south. He realizes in vain how he put himself in a tough situation with his little game, but he’s good to keep this going a little longer.
“Tommy,” Evan whines. His cheeks are burning, there’s a sheen layer of sweat forming on his forehead. “Tommy.” This one is shy of a whisper. He keeps pumping and twisting and occasionally adding spit into the mix, his left hand knuckles are turning white as he desperately tries to hold himself onto the seat, his hips have slipped a few inches forward and his back is pushing into the seat every time he fucks into his hand.
“You look so good, baby. You wanna come for me?” Yes, yes, yes. Tommy thinks he heard Evan grunt into the mic, though his own thoughts have started to scramble from the pain between his legs. He expertly starts lowering them back to the pad as he catches a glimpse of Evan writhing on the seat next to him, and god he wishes he could have his mouth on him. Once he’s sure they landed safely, he lets go of the stick and turns towards Evan who’s long lost in the chase for his release - he doesn’t feel the movement or lack-there-of, until Tommy has his hand around his dick and is working him the last bit of the way. He feels a hot breath against his ear:
“Come for me baby, spill all over my hand.” With a couple more pulls and twists, and his hand pinching at his nipple, Evan comes into long, thick spurts onto Tommy’s hand, his own pants and shirt. His senses come back to him as he hears Tommy whisper sweet nothings into the side of his face, and Evan turns, not thinking twice before crashing his lips onto Tommy’s. It’s hungry, wet, and very much what Evan had wanted since the moment Tommy dragged his rugged body out of this chopper. He runs his hand into the dark curls at Tommy’s nape and elicits a strangled moan out of him. They break the kiss, foreheads leaning onto the other as they catch their breaths.
“See, now you messed up your pants before I even kissed you,” Tommy jokes, and kisses him once more, before pulling away to bring his hand to his mouth. He growls at the salty taste coating his tongue: one day he’s going to get it straight out of the tap. He sees the shiver running through Evan and he looks at the back of the chopper: “Would you like to return the favour?”
There are merely two minutes between the moment both their buckles are unfastened and when Tommy finds himself with his pants around his ankles and Evan kneeling in the small space between the rows of seats before him. The way Evan’s nose runs up the crease of his thigh as he inhales him in has his entire body slacking a bit. He hums in admiration and he feels his warm tongue roll onto his balls, before creeping its way up the underside of his dick. Evan sucks at the bead of precome and runs his pointed tongue into the slit.
“Fuck, baby,” Tommy moans, “run that tongue all over me.” And Evan obliges. He repeats the movement just enough times to feel the muscles of Tommy’s legs ripple under his arms. He takes Tommy into his mouth about halfway, and pulls back, and goes back down, and pulls back, until there’s a generous amount of saliva following his lips when he pops off. Tommy growls and grabs him by the chin, pulling him into a dirty kiss, tongues fighting dominance, before he lets go of him and motions for Evan to proceed. He brings his hands behind his head to recline a little, jutting his hips up enough to have his dick rub against the side of Evan’s face. They both chuckle quietly, and Evan gets back to the task at hand.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the challenge and the way the back of his throat burned at the stretch. He could pump him with two hands and still have room to fit his tip in his mouth. Evan had only been with women so far and a handful of - selfish - men who hadn’t really let him play with them before being fucked, so this is considerably the biggest, hardest thing he had ever put his mouth on. He’s already addicted to the taste, the ridges and curves and the pulses of Tommy’s veins everytime he exhales.
He deducts that his work is appreciated when he feels a sharp tug at his hair, and meets the dark eyes looking down at him. Tommy’s mouth is open and his breaths are staggered - Evan can’t help but run his hands up his stomach and chest as he tries his best to get his nose to the base of his cock. He gags, but holds on and Tommy licks his lips at the sight of the tears running down his face - that he swipes with his thumb and brings to his tongue with a devilish smirk. Evan moans around him, his renewed erection bobbing as he focuses on breathing and swallowing around Tommy.
“Baby, I’m-” Tommy begins, but has to focus as the simple thought of saying it out loud takes him near the edge. “Can I come in your pretty mouth?” There’s a simple nod, and Tommy loses it. He brings his hands on both sides of Evan’s face and starts fucking into him, just enough that he gets his rush but doesn’t have to stop to accommodate Evan. It’s only around five strokes before he feels his body tingle and his asshole start to spasm anyway.
“Evan,” he moans, the sound coming out like sweet honey as it rolls on his tongue. Yes, that does sound delicious. He pulls Evan’s head off him and takes himself in his other hand, pumping his tip and aiming onto the sweet boy’s waiting tongue. His body goes rigid and his head falls back until the first spurt comes out, and then he watches the next three coat Evan’s tongue and chin, before wiping his tip onto his top lip. He curses as he sees him swallow and lick at the excess around his mouth.
Evan bites his bottom lip and looks down at himself, hand coated in his own come that he had absentmindedly been rubbing out as Tommy was fucking his face. He chuckles, suddenly shy and when he looks up at Tommy, he simply raises his eyebrow at him and Evan goes on to lick his hand as well.
“Please tell me I can invite myself to your cabin tonight?” Tommy blurts and Evan chokes onto his come. They both laugh and Evan answers after a moment;
“You’ll have to wait until it’s dark,” he says, starting to put his clothes back to normal.
“I’d wait a month if you asked me to.”
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