#and then i pointed out the regulars i see like the nice guy who usually has a bucket hat and has a very well behaved pit bull and that he | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dtrghost · 1 year

Note

please.....one shot of flirty ghost with fem!reader...

flirty ghost... 😫

thank you for the request!!

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x bartender fem!reader

synopsis: Price invites the team out to a night at a renowned club in London after a job well done. Team 141 watches in surprise as Simon flirts with the hot bartender ;). I made simon rich, because I find rich guys hot, so yeah. a bit sub!ghost because he'd do anything for a girl like you.

warnings: allusions to smut (dirty ghost), flirty (probably ooc) ghost, alcohol, pining, hints at sex and arousal, etc.

part 2

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

(gif's not mine)

The strong reek of alcohol brought a sigh of relief to the team, watching a variety of people mingle and chat as they maneuvered through the crowd. Team 141 had a rough month filled with death, pain, and shitty drinks which consisted of mostly tap water or anything else they could find that wouldn't kill them. So as a treat for their success, their Captain suggested a night out in London, more specifically in a bar that he had visited with Laswell and some colleagues in the past.

"Alright gentlemen. This isn't your average pub so, behave will ya. I'm not draggin' your arses outta here tonight." He spoke, adjusting his button up shirt with a look shot at Johnny who gave him a mock offended look. Simon rolled his eyes, looking around and ignoring the weird glances at him for the mask he wore. He didn't see the point. He'd much rather drink whiskey on his couch with a shit black and white film rather than waste his money on unnecessarily expensive drinks that'll taste just the same.

But he was there, and he was dying for the liquid gold of a nice drink after the hell he endured for the last month. He strayed from the group, making his way to the bar and taking a seat. His eyes scanned over the brands on display behind the counter.

"Fuckin' hell." He muttered to himself, catching the attention of the bartender who just chuckled. A shiver ran up his spine from the sound as a woman appeared in front of him.

"Take it this is your first time, haven't seen you around before." You started, his eyes widening slightly at you. Your voice was smooth, he thought. Your American accent differed from the various European ones that flooded the room around him.

You took his appearance in with a slight raise of your eyebrow. He wore a black button up that hugged his muscular and beefy frame, the fabric straining as his arms tensed. You noticed the dog tags that hung out as he leaned on the counter, his face entirely covered by the skull mask he wore.

"Yeah, first time." You hummed, gesturing back to the bottles behind you. You glanced behind him, watching as other men that you recognized as regulars seemed to divert their usual tactics away from you tonight, focusing on other women around who'd leave them high and dry all the same. It didn't surprise you, the sheer size of the man in front of you was enough to intimidate anyone. Nobody sat next to him, his presence practically demanding his own space as others squeezed in between people two seats away on both sides to avoid being next to him.

"What can I get for you..." You trailed off, gesturing for a name to put to his masked face. He was usually cautious about who he gave his name to, years of paranoia to thank for that. But this was just one night, and he'd like never see you again.

Damn it to hell.

"Simon. Simon Riley. I'll take the Macallan, the bottle and a glass with no ice." Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, looking at him a bit unsure about how much military made in general. You only had one bottle of Macallan whiskey that night, and it was not cheap.

"Uhh.. that's Macallan No.6. £6,000."

"I know my whiskey love. If you will. You can close my tab too, s'all I want." He slid you his card, and you huffed, grabbing the full bottle and ringing him up. You half expected his card to decline, and when it didn't you were still impressed, sliding the bottle to him with his requested cup.

"Thanks sweetheart. What brings an American girl like yourself to downtown London?" He pondered, relishing the sound of your resonant laugh and the flow of your movements as you took cups and passed refills to other customers.

"I attend the University of London for biomedical engineering." You listened to his low whistle as he took a sip of his drink, sighing in relief at the burning sensation sliding down his throat. You caught sight of his plump, soft lips before he pulled his mask down again, only adding to your attraction to him.

"Pretty and smart. Lucky lad whoever he is." This wasn't your first rodeo, and it wasn't the first time someone attempted to smooth talk you while you worked, but for a voice like his you were more than happy to entertain. You liked his deep baritones, the rasp that accompanied certain words, and how delicious his accent was.

"As if. Nobody's hit the standard for that yet." He hummed approvingly. He liked women who wouldn't settle for anything less than what they wanted, and it made you that much more attractive to him, and made him want you to himself even more, though he was sure he wasn't the only one that wanted that too.

"I never got your name love." You swallowed down the sudden lump in your throat as you forced your heart to stop skipping beats from the pet name. It's not like it was the first time someone called you that, you'd heard it at least 20 times since you opened, but from his lips, his voice gracing your ears, you wish he'd call you that every day. You put on your game face, willing yourself to not be so easy.

"Well, you haven't done anything to earn it so, no dice." He almost groaned, loving the sultry, unimpressed eyes that gazed into his with an aura of confidence that would crush any mediocre man that dared to try his luck with you.

"Name your price, I like a good challenge anyway." He listened to your 'hm', your hands meeting as you twisted your rings around your fingers in thought. He took a second to truly capture your image. The simple yet elegant black blazer that, even though buttoned, revealed a deep V down your chest with a nice view of your cleavage in the center. You'd been there since your freshman year, the owner liked you, the customers liked you, so you got away with a lot, including small breaks in dress code.

You looked expensive, you smelled expensive, and fuck was it the hottest thing he'd ever seen. He loved the light reflecting off the jewelry that decorated your skin, from the multiple piercings on your ears to the thick, steel bands that wrapped around your fingers. You were beautiful, brilliant, and he knew he'd be willing to do anything for another night with you.

"Since you've been nice to me tonight, I'll make it a bit easier. Come back tomorrow with a planned date, dinner preferably. Keep it simple and classy. This is a test, I have expectations that I'm not going to inform you of but they all fall under typical date etiquette. Fail to meet any of them and well, no name for you." For any other woman he'd think they were being outrageous, a full date without knowing their name? Like hell he'd do something like that. But for you? To hear your voice, to be graced with your presence, to know your name, fuck he'd take you on as many dates as you want.

"Deal pretty girl, you'll have the best night of your life." He shifted in his seat at the way your chin jutted upwards for a moment, snickering with a pleased look before you went back to your job. He watched you the entire time, switching from whiskey to water after unconsciously refilling his glass with the bottle in his hand which he ended up moving to the unoccupied seat next to him. He wanted to sober up enough so he wouldn't forget tonight, so he wouldn't forget you.

"Looks like your buddies are cheering you on over there." You noted with a small smile, gesturing to the group of guys wiggling their eyebrows at him with quiet cheers and fists in the air.

"Fuckin' hell."

"Hey it's cute. I'm assuming you're not the flirty type with them huh." You teased. He watched as you popped a quick ice cube in your mouth, sighing in relief as the bar slowly emptied, leaving just the two of them and his team a few seats down. He had to stop himself from thinking about how it'd feel with your tongue and ice against his hot, throbbing cock. How pretty you'd look on your knees, water and spit running down the sides of your mouth as you struggled to take all of his length. He rolled his eyes and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment before glancing back at them.

"Definitely not. Those fuckers never know when to lay off." You laughed quietly, your hand instinctively covering your mouth as you looked down. He couldn't help himself, reaching over and lifting your head up by your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your smooth skin. You looked surprised by his gesture, the look of self-assurance in his advances clear in his amber eyes as they lazily peered into yours.

"Don't hide that beautiful smile of yours lovie. Wanna see it as much as I can before I leave." You couldn't help the wide grin that spread across your lips, watching his eyes crease which signaled that he was a smily as you were.

"Yeah? And when do I get to see yours huh? I'm oh so curious to know what the dark and edgy skull face looks like under the mask."

"I guess you'll just have to find out after our dinner won't you sweetheart."

"Oi! Ghost ain't layin' it on too much there is he lass?" Soap interrupted, nearly shouting from his place at the bar and directing the attention of the last few people who stuck around to him.

"That's enough from you sergeant." Ghost spat, downing the rest of his water with a glare sent his way. Johnny shrunk slightly from the heat of the look, drinking the rest of his beer as Price chuckled at the both of them.

"Sergeant huh. What're you then? Seems like you give orders often. My kinda guy." You flirted, taking his glass away and putting them with the rest.

"Lieutenant. If you like orders I'm more than willing to give some to you." The wink he sent you made you brain dead enough to stumble, him quickly to stead you with his hands reaching to catch your arms as you steadied yourself against the bar counter. You huffed and stood up straight, adjusting your outfit.

"Game on playboy." You grumbled, eyes flickering to his smug ones as the team made their way over.

"Making a girl fall Ghost? Not very nice of you." Price countered, giving his subordinate a disapproving shake of his head as Simon rolled his eyes.

"I know right. Careful Casper, might get it with one of your friends instead of you don't play nice." You glanced at Johnny and Kyle who were then turning red at your look, proving that they were just as attracted to you as he was.

"If you're looking for an.... unsatisfied night then by all means, have your way with em. Especially that one." He jabbed his finger at Johnny who was too out of it to comprehend what he'd just said about him, Kyle following the same road as they leaned on each other for support. You hummed, grabbing his face with your hand under his chin and pulling his closer to you, much to everyone's surprise as his eyes blew open.

"And you're confident you can.. 'satisfy" me Simon?" You pressed, your grip on his face tightening. He didn't respond, he couldn't, the look in your eyes pulled him in. The challenge and condescending tone, the lust. The daring nature of you was captivating, it took his breath away. It made his brain go numb in the moment, much like you expected it to.

"I guess we'll see then huh, pretty boy." With that you pushed his head to the side, and he felt his bulge pressing against his pants as he took a deep breath in, recovering from the blow to his ego and the wave of arousal traveling down to his painfully hard dick.

"Bar's closed. I'll see you tomorrow Simon. Make sure you can actually get it up, I'd hate to be disappointed." He scoffed, gaining his sense of dominance and confidence back before standing up with his bottle and revealing the height that added on to his monstrous size. Your breath hitched as he leaned over the counter, the smell of whiskey and expensive cologne invading your senses as his breath fanned over your skin from his mask.

"I wouldn't worry about me love. Might wanna call off from work after what I do to you." You couldn't help but press your legs together a bit at the clench of your pussy at his words, feeling yourself grow wet from his voice as you clasped your hands behind your back. You both glanced down at your action, the tension almost too much for you to handle, letting out a breath you were holding as he leaned back and away from you.

"I'm counting on it. I need a few days off anyway." You responded as nonchalant as you could, though you could see the smirk behind his mask at the small shake in your voice.

"I'll be back tomorrow pretty girl. Be a good girl for me and get ready."

...

Son of a bitch.

And that's it!! I wanna be a hot bartender and flirt with a hot military guy with a deep voice and British accent... anyway. Thank you for the request!! It was a joy to write it!!

@kaicubus

#fanfic #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #oneshot #team 141

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fatuismooches · 10 months

Note

From the Fontaine trailer, some people headcanon Arlecchino to be a perfectionist so imagine her lover feeling insecure and becoming distant because they think they're not good enough for her, which Arlecchino quickly denies.

It was hard not to be insecure.

You knew that everyone felt insecure every now and then, but you felt the unconfidence in yourself growing with every passing day. After all, your lover was Arlecchino. The Knave. The Fourth Fatui Harbinger. One of the most strongest people that served the Tsaritsa. Not to mention stunningly beautiful.

And now “the perfectionist.”

You had always known that your wife liked things to be done her way, or no way. Arlecchino looked down on many things and people that she considered to be beneath her. She would pick apart anyone who had the audacity to upset her. But she had never once directed anything of the sort to you. You were good enough for her, you thought. She always made you feel so loved, so worthy of her, of everything, despite her… less than sane tendencies.

Until a few days ago.

The regular Fatui soldiers loved to gossip amongst themselves. You couldn’t really blame them, even though the Harbingers were feared, many of them were also idolized. And there wasn’t much else to do on duty. (Your wife always made sure to station a few guards outside your room. She was very serious about your safety.)

You actually learned a good bit of information from listening in on their conversations, but the parts you cared about the most were related to Arlecchino. From the time you overheard that she seemed more irritable than usual at the orphanage, so you made sure to pamper her to the fullest extent that night. Or when she was somehow in a good mood, so you did your best to make it even better by being extra romantic when she arrived home. But now you had stumbled upon a conversation you would have been better off not hearing.

It was the wee hours of the night, when you had been waiting up for hours to see if Arlecchino would make it home that night. She did not, which was disappointing, but it was nothing new. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Regardless, you were sleepy now, but before you crashed you wanted to see if the Fatui were talking about anything juicy. By now, they would think you were asleep. You crept to your door and leaned close to it to see if you could catch any hushed whispers.

“You know, I heard Lord Pantalone and The Doctor got into another quarrel…” Bingo! Looks like they were chit-chatting tonight. Pantalone… the guy Arlecchino rebuked quite a few times. You don’t think she liked him very much, from the way she always hid you behind her, away from his unsettlingly sweet smile. Though that wasn’t the point. The guards continued to prattle on quietly, but it was becoming boring for you. Looks like one of the Harbingers made their subordinate cry again. You heard that one all too often, so it was time to finally go to sleep.

“Say, Lord Arlecchino…” Well, staying up for a few more minutes couldn’t hurt, right? You were eager to hear what they’d say.

“Lord Arlecchino is a real perfectionist, isn’t she?”

You don’t know why those words hit you so hard all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I think so too. She’s quite obsessed with perfection. If you don’t comply with her every standard of perfection, she’ll think of you as nothing. I don’t think anyone could be good enough for her.”

Perfection. Perfection. Perfection.

The word had now taken up residence in your head and you could no longer hear the muffled voices outside, your own thoughts being too loud. You were never well acquainted with the word “perfection.” You never considered yourself to be perfect in anything: looks, personality, smarts, talents, skills, strength, health. And well, you tried to keep it out of your mind as much as possible - Arlecchino’s love kept you very fulfilled anyway - but now your thoughts were spiraling into something not so nice.

You tried to not think about it. You knew deep down she was like that but hearing it verbalized so clearly was draining for you. But it was okay, right? You were good enough for Arlecchino, you repeated in your head. You’re good enough for her, you tried to convince yourself. There was no need to dwell on it.

But once a seed has been planted, it’s hard to stop its growth.

—

You didn’t get much sleep that night. The morning had come rather quickly, light filtering in through the windows. Arlecchino’s side of the bed was still untouched and cold. You contemplated staying in bed a while longer, but it was probably better to do something to get your mind off the events of last night. Perhaps a nice, hot bath would do you some good. Dragging yourself out of bed, you rubbed the sleepiness out of your eyes and padded along to the bathroom, until a glint caught your eye.

Your and Arlecchino’s shared dresser with a rather large mirror.

It held fond memories for you. Oftentimes Arlecchino would sit as you removed her hairclip and began to brush her hair, her face expressionless but still soft as she looked at you in the mirror. Or sometimes you’d be the one sitting down, her hands placed on your shoulders as she stared adoringly at your reflection, complimenting how enticing you looked. How she could just eat you up, kissing your neck, having to resist the urge to leave a smidge of her lipstick there. Bringing you as her plus one was both a curse and a blessing; she could show the whole of Snezhnaya her enthralling darling, but at the same time people laid their filthy eyes on you. Very fond memories indeed.

But that was the last thing on your mind, your reflection staring back at you almost hauntingly. Immediately your eyes couldn’t help but pick out the little imperfections and flaws in your body. Imperfection. The opposite and enemy of perfection. You wondered, did Arlecchino notice these imperfections too? Perhaps, she’s noticed all along and decided to not say a word out of pity?

You shuddered at the thought of disappointing her and quickly retreated to the comfort of your bed after that, hoping your dreams would provide you with something sweeter.

—

You knew you had slept in too late when you awoke to Arlecchino at your bedside. At first, it was a soothing feeling, waking up to fingers stroking your hair. And then realization hit you like a ton of bricks as you scrambled to sit up to which Arlecchino watched you with an unreadable expression.

“A-Arlie!” You half-exclaimed, voice cracking embarrassingly. “You’re home.”

“I was surprised when you weren’t by the door to greet me like usual. You usually never sleep in this late,” she commented, indirectly asking if you were okay.

“Oh well… I just felt more tired than usual,” you replied, which wasn’t really a lie. Arlecchino narrowed her eyes at you.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been staying up late again,” she sighed when she saw your nervous guilty smile. “I keep telling you to sleep instead of waiting up for me,” she gently tsked as she glided her finger under your eyes. “It is not healthy for you.”

Your wife’s touch made you hot and you gladly accepted it, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but think back to the Fatui soldier’s words. You probably looked so imperfect right now. Arlecchino noticed the change of expression on your face.

“What’s wrong?” Well damn, you didn’t mean for that to happen.

“Oh, nothing,” you quickly reassured her. “You know, just the sleep deprivation kicking in.” That excuse probably didn’t even make any sense but you had to roll with it. Arlecchino simply stared at you before answering.

“You do look more tired than usual. You should rest for a while longer,” she nodded as she guided you back into a lying position. You don’t think she fully bought your excuse but at least that exchange was over.

That was only the beginning of your distance behavior, which Arlecchino easily noticed. You wouldn’t initiate physical contact anymore, and wouldn’t “surprise” her with hugs from behind. No longer would you go on about your day when she got home from work. Whenever she got into bed with you, you’d always pretend to be asleep instead of spending the night talking with her. It was strange and made her feel… not good.

Arlecchino was a very observant lover and could read your mood very well, even more so when you tried to hide it. Usually, she could pinpoint what caused it or you would tell her. But this time you were completely silent. Not just for a little while too, it had been days.

She’d find out why tonight. How? Because tonight was your regularly scheduled dinner date night.

Arlecchino was a classy woman. She could always appreciate a private, fancy dinner with her beloved. And though it was only in her mansion, it didn’t stop her from wearing her best suit and encouraging you to dress up as well. Both of you always enjoyed these nights. It was usually mostly you doing the talking, but she took pleasure in hearing you chatter over a nice meal. Not to mention she liked to feed you dessert.

Normally you’d be ecstatic to spend time with your wife. But now? Now you were kind of terrified. You were going to be so close to her. She would be able to see your every move. Dissect you with those piercing eyes of hers. Your mind was going to the worse possible places and you didn’t like it.

Were there any wrinkles in your outfit? Hair combed perfectly? Wait, was your outfit even nice? What if it was and it just looked poorly on you? You found yourself worrying over the minor details far too much. But you didn’t have much more time to fret before Arlecchino entered the room with a slight smile.

“You look ravishing, my dear,” she hummed as she circled you, her heels click-clacking against the floors and her eyes dragging across your body. Her compliment did make your heart sing a little.

“Thank you, love,” you managed a smile to which Arlecchino reciprocated. You held out your held and Arlecchino grasped it with hers, kissing it.

“Shall we go?”

“We shall.”

—

There was no laughter or conversation to be heard during this particular dinner. The only thing that could be heard was the clatter of knives and forks against plates. It was unsettling how you didn’t even try to start up a conversation. How when Arlecchino tried to get you to speak, your only responses were a few words or merely a nod.

Why? Because your mind was racing over things you never worried about before. Was your voice pleasing to her ear? Was it too high or too low? Best not to test it. Was your etiquette good enough? The idea of not being perfect enough was still eating away at you, even in the things that didn’t matter.

Arlecchino always thought herself to be prepared for many things, many kinds of situations, and outcomes as a Harbinger. Though as a lover, it seems that she had some room to grow, she thought as she watched you change into something more comfortable and get ready for bed. But she was going to attempt to remedy that.

“[Name], speak to me.” Straight to the point as usual.

“About?”

“Why have you been so distant lately? It’s as if you’re a completely different person.”

“Everything is fine.”

“There’s no need to lie when you’re with me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Both of us know this cannot go on any longer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“[Name]-”

“I am fine!” Your voice snapped before you realized what you’d done. “I’m fine,” you repeated softly as you turned your face away. “Sorry.”

The room was silent for a few moments before your wife spoke again.

“My lover is the last person I thought I’d be interrogating,” Arlecchino’s voice dropped to a softer tone, one that was quite rare. It was making you weak.

“I know… and I’m sorry,” you said in a deflated manner, the weight of the whole situation catching up to you. “I’m sorry…”

“Do not be sorry,” Arlecchino gently corrected you. “Simply be honest and tell me what is wrong. Your troubles are my troubles as well, love, and I swear to fix them.” She came to sit next to you on the bed, tentatively placing her blackened hand on your shoulder to gauge your reaction, and then running it up and down your back once she saw your approval. You felt like an idiot for wanting to cry right now.

“I know, I just-” You started to sound like a broken record at this point but divulging such thoughts was definitely not easy at all. But there was no way to escape this conversation so you had to come clean eventually. At least Arlecchino was extremely patient with you.

“It’s me,” you finally said. “I’m… the problem,” you stated quietly, head hung low and staring at your legs. You had done it now.

“You?” Your wife repeated. “How could you ever be a problem?” Arlecchino remained calm on the outside but her mind was racing with questions that needed answers. She placed her fingers on your chin and guided your face to look at hers instead.

You balled your fists and opened your mouth to speak but it was beginning to clog and dry up from your overwhelming emotion. “I’m not good enough,” you blurted out in one go. “Not good enough for you.” You were sure your heart was racing faster than what should be humanly possible. You squeezed your eyes shut, afraid of what her facial expression would be. Archons, you just wanted to disappear into nothingness right now.

Arlecchino was momentarily shocked, even letting the emotion show on her face for a split second before she quickly schooled it back to her normal expression. Though she had no idea how you came to such a conclusion, she was not going to let you believe such lies for another second.

“[Name], look at me. Now,” she commanded. With that tone of voice, you knew better than to disobey her. Hesitantly you opened your eyes, reluctantly making eye contact with her, the red X’s in her eyes staring directly at you.

“You’re wrong,” she stated plainly, not meant to hurt you but rather convey to you what she thought was the obvious truth. “You could not be farther from the truth. How has such an erroneous belief infiltrated your mind?” You didn’t really know how to respond to that so you merely shrugged your shoulders and broke eye contact again, but she quickly tapped your cheek so you could look at her again.

“I guess… I guess I was just thinking about how perfect you are, and how everything around you is perfect as well, and I don’t… deserve to be around you,” your voice trailed off towards the end. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold back the tears. Arlecchino paused for a moment seeming to take in your words before she spoke.

“It is true I surround myself with perfection. But does that not already answer your question? You are perfect to me. There is nothing I do not adore about you.” A quiet “oh” was the only word you could muster in response to that. Although it wasn’t enough to completely rid you of your insecurities, her genuine words of affirmation were starting to make you feel a little better.

“I don’t think you know how utterly addicted I am to you. I crave every part of your being so often, it drives me crazy,” she whispered. “I may look calm now, but inside I can feel myself burning at the mere thought of you.” Arlecchino let go of your chin and reached for your hand, guiding it to her face. “There is absolutely no one else I would want as a spouse. Do you understand?”

The lump in your throat had grown much larger so the only thing you managed was a meek nod.

“Can you use your words, love?”

“Y-yes,” your voice was teetering on the edge of breaking down. With that, Arlecchino moved in to place a very gentle kiss on your forehead but that was the final straw for you. Tears gushed down and you hurriedly reached to rub them off, but it was really to no avail because your wife had obviously already seen them.

Admittedly, Arlecchino was not the best when it came to tears and comfort. So she just did what she knew how to do - let you cry into her chest as she stroked your hair and back comfortingly. She didn’t say anything for the time being, letting you get out everything you had been holding in for the past few days. She didn’t care that her shirt was being wetted by your tears. She didn’t care that she had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. What she cared about was the person in front of her and their wellbeing.

Neither of you paid attention to how much time went by, as it didn’t mean anything. Eventually, your sobs were reduced to soft hiccups that you managed to mostly keep under control. Arlecchino’s touch and chest were so soft, you felt like you could fall asleep right now after all of that crying, which Arlecchino seemed to notice as well.

“Go to sleep now. You need rest,” your wife instructed, kissing the crown of your head and then gently moving your body to lay down on the plush mattress. She made sure to wipe your face delicately with a tissue as well and kiss the corners of your eyes, stained from your tears. You made a noise of agreement as the soft blankets and pillows were already winning you over. Arlecchino placed a final kiss on your forehead as she sent to off to the land of dreams.

Arlecchino gazed at your face as she pulled away. You looked so tired but still so beautiful. But she would have to talk to you about this again. She was still unsure of why you suddenly started acting this way, not wanting to push the subject immediately. Did someone feed you lies? Or was it truly just on your own? Regardless, she was going to make sure to reverse those thoughts as much as possible. Everything about you was so lovely. So charming, so divine. No matter how long it took, no matter how many times she had to reassure you, she’d make sure you were aware of her feelings.

Arlecchino clasped her hand with your own and squeezed it. You would always be more than enough for her.

Perfect.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino fluff #arlecchino #arlecchino angst #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers #fatui #fatui arlecchino #i think the pacing got a lil bad but... yea arlie fluff !

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canadianfangurl-95 · 1 month

Text

Take Care.

Summary: Frankie and the Triple Frontier guys go to their local bar to get Frankie a date. He decides to pursue the new bartender.

Rating: 18+, minors DNI.

Warning: smut, p in v, oral f receiving

Hey, this is my first time writing in more than a decade and I have been loving everyone's work on here so much I wanted to give it a try. please let me know if you enjoyed or if you have any feedback! Also, I am Canadian so there are definitely some spelling that may be different from American and also some simple things like how in Canada the waitress brings the credit machine to the table instead of taking the card, stuff like that. Anyway, I'm rambling, enjoy!

Word count; 11k+

The dimly lit sign of the bar had a few letters burnt out of it. The green leather booths hadn’t been updated since the place opened 20 years ago. The wood bar had been meticulously cared for and still shone with the polish it received weekly. It was a humble bar, a place for regulars and the odd collection of students who would trickle in from the college 10 miles from there. But that sign laid up against the burnt orange Texan sky made a certain group of ex-military men, trying to find their place back in a world that has very much changed since their time in the service, feel like they could have a few beers and cheers to forget about the worries in their lives.

The four men poured into the bar at their usual time every other Friday night. They were all busy in life right now but made sure they still got together on a regular basis. They would laugh about old times, be each other’s wing men so that at least of them could get lucky from time to time and remind themselves how exceptionally bad Santiago is at pool for someone who is such a sharpshooter in the field.

Benny and Will slid in on opposite sides of their regular spot to meet in the middle on the c shaped booth, followed by Santiago on the right side and Frankie on the left edge, always sitting with his right leg slightly in the aisle to stretch out.

Santiago scanned the room intently, not unusual as this was a habit the four of them had developed during their time in the service, however his face gave Frankie an uneasy feeling when it suddenly met his with a half smirk.

“Okay boys, I know we all like to have our fun on these nights, but tonight we are focusing on Morales alright?” Santiago said firmly to Benny and Will with an outstretched hand pointed at Frankie.

Frankie instantly furrowed his brow at this sudden declaration, “What do you mean focus on me?” He scanned Benny and Wills’ faces to see if they were in on something he wasn’t aware of.

“I mean,” Santiago started, leaning forward on the wood table, his face becoming more illuminated under the low glow of the hanging light pendant above them, “you need to get laid because it has for one, been too damn long, two, you’re shit at talking to women lately and three as your roommate I’m sick of hearing you listen to Alanis Morisette on repeat.” Santiago counted the reasons in his right hand before laying it flat on the table and quirking his left eyebrow up at his friend.

Before Frankie could open his mouth fully, Will interjected pointing lazily in Frankies direction. “He doesn’t need a cheap hookup, Pope. What Frankie needs is a relationship to get back into it. A nice girl that will take care of him.” Will crossed his arms and rested his back gently on the booth as he gave Frankie a reassuring smile.

“Nah, I’m with Pope on this one.” Benny perked up, “One night between the sheets and then he’s back in the streets.” He had a shit eating grin on his face like he always did whenever someone talked about a hook up. Benny being the ladies’ man he is was always down to support his friends getting some.

“Thank you, Benny, someone’s got some sense here.” Santiago tilted his head toward Benny who nodded back.

“Do I get a say in this?” Frankie asked callously, his right hand waived slightly in the air with his question and his other perched underneath his chin as he listened to his friends dive into the dampness that is his love life.

“No.” all three men said in unison with a quick glance at him. He gave a huff and watched as they all returned to a conversation he was seemingly excluded from.

“Now I’m not saying he doesn’t need someone to take care of him, I’m just saying he needs someone to take, care, of him you know what I mean?” Santiago winked and dragged out a select few words to make his point.

“Ohh yeah.” Benny slyly chimed in.

Will pulled his shoulders off the back of the booth and shifted his body toward Santiago who instantly felt his lecture being prepared, “No, no he needs someone to take care of him in more ways than just physically. He needs be taken care of emotionally as well.”

The three men spurred into a loud retort of their opinions, hands waving back and forth towards Frankie as he looked at the fishing painting laden behind Bennys head that he’s seen a hundred times before. Frankie knows he hasn’t been in a relationship or even had a hook up in almost a year. He had finalized his divorce 3 years ago and since then he hasn’t had much luck with women, so he lost interest in trying. The dating apps were getting routine as well. Some girl in her twenties he had nothing in common with and couldn’t even tolerate enough to get through a one night stand was pretty typical.

They were all so distracted in their own nonsense they didn’t notice when she suddenly appeared at the edge of the table with her notepad and pen in hand. After a quiet hello and no interest from the men she brazenly tapped her pen on the table between them and they all stopped mid-sentence to turn and look at her with the same taken aback expression on their faces.

“Hi, um, sorry to interrupt, I’m Sadie and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.” She said with a weary smile to the group of ridiculously good-looking men.

All four men looked at her face, tan and freckled with a wide smile that lit up her green eyes. Beautiful amber red hair that fell loosely down her back with a slight curl. And then down to her white tank crop top, short black waitress apron tied around her hips with a few highlighters and a bottle cap opener tucked in over light wash flare legged ripped jeans. Finishing off the look with red cowboy boots, close enough of a colour to match her hair.

Their heads immediately snapped back to one another’s and then back at hers as she sheepishly waited their response. Frankie pulled the hand that had been resting under his chin down to his lap with an interested look.

Santiago shifted in his seat, turning on his heart winning smile as an idea grew behind his eyes. “Sadie, you said?”

She smiled and nodded back to him, holding her pen to her paper now. Expecting to take his order next. But Santiago was never known to be predictable.

He slid his left elbow to rest on the top of the booth and angled himself toward her. The three other men shared a quick glance at each other, unsure where he was going with this interaction.

“I’ve never seen you here before, when did you start?”

“It will be two weeks tomorrow actually.” She responded with a pleasant smile.

“Huh, how long have you been bartending?” He asked.

She pursed her lips to think and squinted as she replied, “About 5 years. But I just do it to pay for my schooling.” Her hair flowed on her shoulder, and she brushed the piece on her left side onto her back, revealing more of her perfectly tanned and freckled skin under the bright white top.

Santiago raised his eyebrows at this information, egging him on to continue the conversation. “What are you in school for?”

“I’m getting my master’s in child psychology through an online university.” Sadie replied with a confident smile, clearly prideful of her career choice.

Santiago pressed on, “Wow that is amazing. Good for you, where were you working before you came here?”

With a huff she shrugged, “I was just at this one chain restaurant across town. But I didn’t get good tips there and as my education is ridiculously expensive, I decided to make a change.”

“What brought you to our little slice of paradise?” Santiago quipped with a charming smile.

Frankie watched as his friend went back and forth with the beautiful bartender. She wasn’t Santiagos typical type, so he was skeptical on what his motive to have this lengthy of a conversation with her was. Not that Frankie was minding as he was as intrigued with this woman as Santiago seemed to be.

She hummed; she was surprisingly pleased with the actual interest in her. But she knew the type, the charmer. Luckily, she knew exactly how to deal with a charmer in her years in the bartending industry. Get them to blink first.

“My friend actually used to work here for a few months. She said that there are so many regulars that you get the opportunity to get to know people and then they start taking care of you and tipping well.” Sadie spoke confidently, knowing she had the attention of these men and thought now would be a good time to turn the tables. “Plus, and her words not mine,” she waived her hands casually, still holding the pen and notepad in her right hand. “She said if you have a great ass you’ll get great tips. So, here I am.” She chuckled.

Frankie, Benny and Will all blushed briefly, but Santiago stayed with his eyes firm on the target.

“So, you’re saying you have a great ass?” he quickly retorted.

“I guess that will be decided on how good your tip is.” She leaned forward slightly, not breaking eye contact with the man until he finally broke and turned his head with a chuckle.

“Do you say that to all your customers to get a better tip?”

Sadie smiled, “Only if I’m sure they’ll fall for it.”

Damn, Frankie thought. Smart, quick, and funny. He’s concerned Santiagos interest is more peaked than he thought and now he’s the one who’s been sitting idly by while his best friend flirts with one of the most perfect women he’s ever met.

Santigo laughed this jab off and turned to look at the boys. All of whom had an approving look on their faces of the verbal joust they just witnessed between their cocky friend and the new bartender.

When he turned back to her, smile still brazen on his face, he said “We’ll get two pitchers of Corona. We’ll do four by the end of the night so each of us will take one on our bills.”

She wrote down the order, and then looked up and asked, “What can I put down for names on the bills?”

“Santi, that’s Will, Benny and Frankie.” Santiago smiled while gesturing to the guys around the table. “I’ll take one of these on mine.”

“I’ll take the other.” Will raised his hand and smiled when she nodded at him.

“Alright,” she penned in her notepad. “Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. Will do you ever go by Willy or Billy?” she asked with a soft look.

Will sat up straighter, chuckling slightly. “Uh, no not really. Why?”

“Oh, I just thought if you did then all your names would rhyme, and you could be a fun boy band with rhyming names that’s all.” She said with a giggle. The guys all laughed and tried to convince Will it would be a good change. To which he shook his head.

Sadie stole a quick glance at Frankie whose eyes hadn’t left her for much of the conversation. Not that she minded, his deep brown eyes and curly hair pushing itself out from underneath his baseball hat were cute. She is accustomed daily to lingering glances of men, but this one made her breath catch slightly before speaking again.

“Well then, two pitchers of Corona and one opportunity to check out my ass without judgement coming right up.” She crossed a line on the note pad and turned swiftly towards the bar. Hips swinging a little more than she’d like to admit.

All the men graciously took their opportunity and turned their heads slightly to catch a sight of her walking away.

Santiago turned quickly to the group, “Guys, she’s the one.”

“The one?” Benny asked, arms folded over his chest and leaned back as far as he could. Trying to get comfortable as the biggest guy in the booth.

“Yes, the one we were just talking about. For Frankie.” Santiago gestured to his friend who perked his eyebrows up at the new thought that Santiago wasn’t interested in Sadie at all. “It can go both ways, he could either have a great hook up with a hot bartender and then just keep a professional relationship with her here if there’s nothing more to it, or he could get into a relationship with a great, smart, nice and competent girl.”

Frankie adjusted himself in his seat. “What if it went South and she was pissed at me. Then all we have is a bartender at our favourite spot spitting in our pitchers.” He didn’t think she’d be the type, but he was also incredibly nervous by Santiagos proposition.

They all took a beat, taking in this possible outcome. They looked over at Sadie at the bar. She was pouring a tall beer for a woman and chatting in a bubbly and infatuating way. She reached below the bar and tossed a coaster onto the top. She placed the beer on top of the coaster and slid it over to the customer with a bright smile. The men all watched as she flung her hair over her back and gathered it loosely in her right hand while she fanned her face with her left, seemingly making a comment about the heat behind the bar with the warm lights above her. Her skin shone and her eyes squinted slightly as she talked, moistening her lips as she listened to her coworker.

Santiago turned back to the group, “Yeah, I think that’s worth the risk buddy. At least it would be for me.” A devilish grin wiping his face.

Frankie’s gaze didn’t waver from her. He observed her low neckline that curved on her plush chest. The way her tan stomach peaked out below her top showing off her belly button ring. The tattoos on various parts of her body that he would love to get a closer look of, or taste.

He adjusted himself slightly before making eye contact with Santiago. “Alright, I’m in.” They all cheered, and Benny patted him on the back. “But I don’t even know where to start man.”

“That’s why you have me, don’t sweat it okay.” Santiago dove into his seemly well thought out plan considering he only met Sadie a mere minutes ago. “When she brings the drinks back, we’ll get her talking again, make sure you actually contribute this time.” He gave a pointing glare to his friend, which made Frankie shrug his shoulders slightly, making him appear a bit smaller. “And then about 20 minutes later, you go over to the bar, order some food, and strike up a conversation. We’ll see where we’re at after that.”

The three men nodded at this suggestion. Frankie was suddenly never more nervous for his beer to arrive. Ironically, he needed the beer to make him able to go through with this. He hasn’t felt this nervous around a woman in longer than he can remember.

Benny and Will started into their typical conversation about Ben’s upcoming fight. They all loved Benny’s hobby. It provided them with great entertainment and an opportunity to get into the ring themselves during his training to get out a bit of frustrations. Will was just diving into the schedule and reminding the guys when they needed to check in as security detail when Sadie appeared from the bar with two pitchers in one hand four beer mugs in the other and 4 coasters tucked into the strap of her tank top.

“Whoa, incoming.” Santiago said as he cleared his phone and wallet off the table to make room.

Sadie carefully placed the two pitches down before grabbing the coasters from her strap and tossing them down one by one in front of the men. She then sat each glass atop the coasters and put her hands on her hips with a huff.

“Well then, and they say bartending isn’t a physical job.” A thanks coming round the table from each of the men. “Can I take care of anything else for you right now?”

Before the group was able to speak a rowdy bunch of college boys pushed themselves through the door and stumbled to a table nearby. Sadie rolled her eyes at the sight.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asked, earning him an approving look from Santiago.

“Yeah, it’s just the college kids that come in here can get really annoying and handsy. It’s fine though, better than dealing with men who probably have daughters the same age as me asking what time I get done my shift.” She looked somewhat deflated at the reality of her job, that it wasn’t all pouring drinks and chatting with nice handsome men.

The guys all looked at each other, they had spent plenty of time with guys like that in the service. The one’s who would try to take up skirt shots of the waitresses when they would go out as a group. It made them apologetic for their gender.

“Sucks, sorry about that.” Benny finally rang out on behalf of the group.

She just gave a half smile, her eyes a little dimmer than before as she mentally prepared to go over and get their orders.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about anything like that tonight. We’ll keep an eye on them. This guy right here,” Frankie threw a hand on Ben’s shoulder, “is a big MMA fighter and the rest of us do security for him at the fights. If they get out of hand, I’m sure we can take care of them.”

Sadie lifted her head a little higher, impressed by the apparent knight in shining armor sitting to her left, ready to take care of her. “Hm, thanks Frankie. I’ll keep you- that, that in mind.” She stammered, before retreating over to the table with the college boys. Head held a little higher knowing she wouldn’t have to call one of the cooks from the back to throw a guy out like she’s had to do twice already at her new place of work.

Frankie watched intently, keeping an eye on the three college guys while they gawked at Sadie and her uncomfortably smiling back at them. Finally breaking attention when Santiago snaps his fingers at him.

“That was perfect buddy. A little damsel in distress and hero thing going on. She thinks she needs you to take care of her, very well played.”

“I wasn’t playing her; it sucks she has to deal with that shit at work and I wanted her to know that she could relax a bit tonight.”

“Fair enough, either way. I think she’s starting to like you. Which brings us to our next stage of the plan.” He rubbed his palms together with a devilish grin. Benny and Will chuckled at the commitment their friend had to his masterful plan. If he had a whiteboard available right now, he would’ve done a whole chart of each move he wanted Frankie to make.

“Why use our poor excuse of security work as an example and not oh I don’t know, our years in the military?” Will asked with his head cocked.

Frankie finished pouring his drink and hummed, “I’ll tell her, just a uh- topic of conversation for later.” He finally grinned, not wanting to reveal too much to her so he would have something to talk to her about later.

Half an hour later, the men had been nursing their beers in an effort to prevent an unplanned visit from Sadie if she noticed they needed a refill. All the while she stole glances to the booth wherever she was and with whomever she was talking to. Frankie saw her hold her position behind the bar long enough without anyone else talking to her and decided it was his opportunity to have another talk with her.

He slinked up from his seat in the booth, with his friend’s encouragement and walked over to the bar. She was illuminated by low hanging lights and beer company signs. There were bottles of liquor along the wall behind her and stacks of glasses of all sorts of shapes and sizes.

“Hey,” she beamed at him when he leaned against the counter. “Can I help you with anything?”

Frankie calmed his nerves the best he could, wiping a bit of peanut dust off the bar in front of him. “Yeah, uh we were actually just wondering if we could get an order of the nachos for the table.”

She blushed, slightly embarrassed, “Oh sorry I guess I haven’t checked in on you guys in a while.”

“No, no it’s fine. You’re obviously busy tonight.”

Sadie smiled at his consideration and moved over to the computer. “Well, still sorry about that. But I promise I’ll take care of you now.” She worked quickly on the computer and then looked up at him. “Whose tab should I put it on?”

“Uhm,” He looked over his shoulder at his friends, and snickered at Santiago briefly. “Put it on Pope’s tab.”

“Pope?” she looked back puzzled.

“Shit, sorry, Santi.”

She nodded, finishing the order. “Those will be out in about 15 minutes.”

“Great, thanks.” Frankie tapped his hands on the bar, unsure how to keep this conversation going.

She grabbed a washcloth and spray and started cleaning up a spill on the counter below her. “So, Frankie” Her thought was stopped abruptly by the sound of a group in the corner cheering and clinking their beer mugs. She chuckled to herself at the interruption. “Since you guys aren’t a boy band, how did y’all meet?”

There’s that topic of conversation he was waiting for. “We all served together, in the military.” He said causally.

Sadie lifted her eyebrows, clearly impressed by the new information about these lovely strangers she’d just met. “Wow, well thank you for your service I guess.” They shared a smile. “Is that where Santis nickname comes from?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s Pope, Will is iron head, and I’m uh- Catfish. Fish for short.” He nodded away shyly.

“That’s so cool. It’s nice to see you’re all still so close. But wait, what’s Bennys nickname?”

Frankie rubbed his chin; thankful she didn’t immediately dive into the reason for his nickname. “He actually doesn’t have one. He came up the ranks a little later than the rest of us and the nicknames had already been dealt out so, a bit of an oversight by us.”

“Huh,” she simmered in his explanation briefly. “So, what do you do now?”

“I was a pilot when I was in active duty so now, I’m an instructor for the base in the next town over.” He loved telling women he was a pilot; it was something a step above what everyone else did during their time in the service, so it made him feel a little special.

She clearly thought he was special too, as she stopped cleaning to put one hand on her hip where her jeans were a little too low and her shirt was a little too high. How Frankie wanted to feel how soft she must be in that spot as he stared at her hand. “That’s really cool Frankie. It must be amazing being up there and in control of it all.”

“It is, I really enjoy flying. I could uh, take you up sometime in a helicopter if you’d like.”

“Oh Frankie, I don’t make good enough tips here that I could afford a private helicopter tour.” She laughed, grabbing some glasses to clean.

“No, it wouldn’t, I wouldn’t charge you anything. I bring friends up all the time.” He stated, hoping to not sound too forward.

She peered up at him through her eyelashes, interested in his forwardness. “So, I would qualify for the friend discount then? Didn’t you just meet me an hour ago?” Sadie blushed, she liked the thought of being Frankies friend, or more.

“Would you believe I’ve always made friends fast?” He asked, “On my first day of basic Santi picked me out of the crowd, sat right down next to me because I looked the quietest of the group and he didn’t want to deal with all the typical macho army guys. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

Sadie looked down at the counter she was cleaning and thought for a moment. “Well, I’m so busy right now my best friend is pretty much my mom so making a new friend wouldn’t be so bad now that I think of it.”

Frankie started to respond, but one of Sadie’s coworkers came behind the bar and asked her to talk to the manager as they needed to see her.

“Alright I’ll be right there. I’ll get those nachos out to you as soon as they’re ready Frankie.”

Before he could say anything, she retreated to the back area for employees with a smile in his direction.

Frankie returned to his friends and slid into the booth. “So, how’d it go?” Santiago pressed.

“Good, the nachos will be out in like, 10 minutes.” Frankie said casually, sipping on his beer.

Santiago looked around breathlessly before sputtering, “I don’t give a damn about the nachos.”

Benny raised his hand, “I uh, actually do give a damn about the nachos.” Always ready to eat a full meal no matter the time of day.

“Fish, how did it go with Sadieee.” He elongated her name to accentuate how visibly annoyed he is about his friend’s slack attitude.

Frankie and Benny chuckled to themselves, “It was good man alright. She’s nice. I told her about us serving together, the nicknames came up, offered her a ride in a helicopter. You know, casual stuff.” He looked to the Millers who nodded along. Frankie was trying his best not to seem too excited, because truthfully, he was already developing a big crush just from the few interactions with her.

Santiago tilted his head at his unsuspecting friend. “You invited her for a helicopter ride? The second time you talked to her.”

Frankie shrugged, “Yeah, it just came up. Girls like that stuff. She thought it was cool when I told her about it so, I don’t know.” His nervousness grew with the line of questioning.

“What happened to leaving it open for a one-night stand?”

“It still can be, or maybe it could be something real. I’d prefer the latter but, we’ll see I guess.”

Santiago leaned back in his seat, unsure where to go in his plan based on this new information. He stewed for a few minutes while the guys went back into conversation.

His train of thought was cut when Sadie appeared and placed the nachos on the table. “Here you go, I’ll be right back with some plates.”

She returned and placed the plates on the table, she then unexpectedly pulled a water bottle out of her apron and pulled a chair up to the front of the booth to sit down from a nearby table.

The group looked with surprise at the sudden guest at their table. Frankie thanked the stars that they asked for the nachos when they did.

“Sorry to interrupt but I am finally on a break, and I just found out that the other closer for the night was the girl that called in today.” She took a sip from her water before proceeding. “So that means I am closing by myself and something that typically takes 30 minutes is going to take an hour. Yay me, and I don’t really have any interest in sitting in that dreary break room right now to wallow in my self-pity for how late I am going to get home tonight.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, more the merrier.” Will leaned in to cheer her with his beer and her water bottle.

“So, the nick name thing. I have multiple questions.” She started.

The group of men laughed, “Okay what you got.” Santiago asked.

“Pope, where the hell did that come from, because from my slight interactions with you, I would personally point you towards a more Southern direction in that aspect.” She touched her hands to her chest and laughed along with Santiago.

“I gave a lot of speeches back in the day and really laid on my so-called wisdom a little thick which ended up earning me the title.” He shrugged with his laugh and pulled his beer up to his lips, without breaking eye contact.

“Huh, interesting. And Benny,” she suddenly turned her attention to the younger man over to her left who pointed at himself cautiously. “No nick name. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Don’t even get me started,” he leaned forward. The rest of the men groaned, apparently hearing this over and over again. “I totally got shafted on that.”

Sadie propped her right hand under her chin leaning forward. Frankie at his angle could see a side view of her cleavage and realized he needed to drop his glance quickly before she noticed. “Well, what would your nick name be if you could choose one now?”

Without hesitation Benny beamed with excitement. “Oh, I have been thinking about this for a damn long time. If I could pick my name, it would be Steel Heart.”

She looked at him puzzled, “Steel Heart?” he nodded confidently. “Because your brother is Iron Head and you what, steal women’s hearts?”

“Bingo.” Benny grinned shooting her a finger gun and a wink, clearly enjoying his moment.

The rest of the group looked at each other and revealed in Bennys excitement.

“Seriously man?” Will questioned.

“Oh, because Iron Head is so damn cool?”

“Well, yeah I mean it is.” Will said, shrugging against his brother who was giving him an annoyed look.

“What about you hermosa what would your nick name be?” Frankie asked Sadie softly. Her eyes flicked to him, and he felt his heart skip a beat. She brushed her hair behind her left ear and put her mouth to her shoulder to meet his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment while she contemplated the question.

She finally turned back to the group from the little bubble she and Frankie had been enjoying themselves in. “Oh, I don’t think I can answer that right now, that’s too big of a decision. Check back in next time I see you and maybe I’ll have an idea.” She smirked at him, very much hoping there would be a next time she saw him.

Frankie nodded, accepting this answer, and soaking in the attention he got from her. He wanted to know what it was like to have his mouth on her shoulder like she had just done. He thought about pulling her strap down with his teeth and running his mouth along her soft shoulder up to her neck as she gasped for more -.

“Fish!”

Frankie looked frantically, realizing he had completely zoned out and missed whatever just happened. He’s praying he had at least let his eyes fall to table and not leave them on Sadie’s shoulder the whole time. Will leaned over, “Fish did you hear me?”

“No, sorry I must’ve zoned out for a second, what’s up?” He squinted his eyes trying to pay attention as the group smirked at his lack of attention.

Will continued, “Sadie asked where Catfish came from, I said you should be the one to answer that.” He winked.

Frankie slouched down, there goes that relief. “I had a hard time growing facial hair when I was what, twenty-three. Anyway, they said it looked like catfish whiskers.” He slumped further down and tried to avoid the gaze of Sadie. While the guys chuckled at their long-standing joke. She leaned over and put a hand on his arm with a squeeze. She could tell he was uncomfortable and didn’t like the story.

“Hey, it’s okay. Your facial hair is pretty cute now and that’s all that matters.” Sadie missed the glances of the other men as they enjoyed the moment their friend was having with the girl they were trying to set him up with all night. She winked and lingered her glance at the man now blushing.

Frankies eyes burned into her with want and desire, she felt herself flutter suddenly and a warmness grew in her gut as she thought about how long her hand has been on his arm. She pulled away and tucked her hand under her chin, trying to cover how flushed she felt her chest becoming.

Ruining the moment, the group of college boys had started making more noise and gesturing to her. She sat up straight in her seat and grabbed her water bottle. “Well, I’d say that’s my cue to get back to it.” She huffed.

Sadie stood back up and adjusted her apron on her hips. “Thanks for the distraction guys, want me to get you those next pitchers?”

They all nodded with half smiles as she went back to the bar to drop off her water bottle. She then slowly strutted over to the table the college guys were sitting at and stood with her back to the men in the booth.

“Hey guys can I help you with anything?” Sadie asked cautiously, scratching her scalp with the back of her pen and doing whatever she could not to make eye contact with the insufferable boys who were obviously checking her out.

The boys shuffled and stifled their laughs, the one sitting to the right of Sadie had a backwards hat on and blonde hair peeking out. He wore a crisp new white t shirt and his hands had clearly never seen a day of work in his life. “Yeah, we were just wondering which one of those guys over there is your boyfriend?” He nodded back to the booth Frankie and the guys were sitting in.

Sadie looked over her shoulder briefly and then back at the guy whose eyes were like daggers. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, you’ve been paying them an awful lot more amount of attention than you’ve been giving us, so I just assumed one of them was your boyfriend.” He shrugged with a mischievous smile.

She could tell his intentions were not sincere, so she played his little game in hopes she could move on quickly. “Uh, yeah sorry, my boyfriend is over there with his friends, so I was checking in during my break. So, do you need a refill or any food before the kitchen closes?” She tucked her head down toward her notepad to deflect his eyes.

“Which one?”

“Hm?” Her eyebrows almost touched the base of her nose with how low she pulled them at his question.

“Which one is your boyfriend?” He nodded towards the group again and rubbed his chin with a sly smile. The other two boys chuckled into their fists at the interaction.

Sadie pulled her head up, getting more annoyed by the second. She looked over her shoulder again and caught Frankies’ eyes who seemed to be fixed on the group. “The one with the hat.” She said, trying to be as casual as possible.

The guy looked back at Frankie whose eyes didn’t leave the table despite his friends engaging in conversation again. Frankie could see the smugness radiating off this guy and didn’t trust to take his eyes off him for a second.

He turned back to give his buddies a smug look and they smiled along with him. “He looks like the jealous type.”

She pulled her lips tight, “Yeah I guess so.” Her uncomfortableness grew by the second. Why do they always have so much shit to say she thought to herself. She thought back to Frankie and the guys and made a mental note to write down that order of pitchers she almost forgot about when she was lost in Frankies brown eyes.

“So uh, he wouldn’t really like this then.” With one swift motion he took Sadie’s right wrist and began to pull her down to sit on his lap. She huffed with shock but before she was able to push herself off him a loud voice thundered from behind.

“Hey! Get your damn hands off her!”

The kid jumped in his skin and pushed her up before looking back to see Frankie standing up beside the booth, the three other men’s attention turned as well but more in shock of Frankies abrupt reaction. The boy threw his hands up near his face, clearly shocked by the reaction of Frankie. He was obviously trying to get some sort of reaction, but he was now fearing he was about to be dragged outside by this furious pit-bull of a man who was baring his teeth.

Sadie turned her shocked look from Frankie back to the guy. She smoothed out her apron and drew her head high. “What he fucking said!” She pointed at Frankie as her voice grew towards the boy. “I’ll get your bills.” She huffed and stormed off towards the bar.

Frankie gave the kid one last look of disgust before Benny had him settled back into his seat.

“Okay down boy it’s fine.” Santiago tried to reassure his friend who was still fuming in his seat. “Well, I’d say you definitely have her attention now, I’ll take care of this. You two just make sure he doesn’t go all bull in a China shop in here alright?” Santiago nodded at the Millers who did their best to calm their friend.

Santiago slipped out of the booth and peeked at Sadie behind the bar. Her back was to them, working on the bills for the pricks at the table he is now approaching. The three boys watched him approach them, settling deep into their chairs. He leaned forward between two of them and rested his hands firmly on the edge of the table.

“Listen, I’m not gonna let me buddy there beat the shit out of you, which yes, he could easily do. But just take this moment as an opportunity to grow, you know, learn something and do better next time. Maybe don’t sexually harass bartenders anymore, or anyone for that matter. And definitely don’t intentionally piss off an ex special ops soldier, got it?” They looked at him with side eyes, fearing they may turn to stone if they made direct eye contact with him. He nodded and pulled his hands away, not before leaning in one last time and whispering, “Oh, and you better fucking tip good.” He winked, and the boys nodded.

Santiago sauntered back to the booth just as Sadie wrapped up her computer work and turned to go back to the table. She grabbed a debit machine and marched over with her head held high. She did her best to ignore the agonizing stir Frankies little outburst had given her, and how badly she wanted to show him how much she appreciated it.

The guys watched as she closed off their bills, giving them icy stares and barely acknowledging their existence. The whole time they creepily snuck a peak at the four men all staring with daggers in their eyes as they waited for the three to leave.

Once they were paid up, they said their meek thanks to Sadie, who responded with a cold, “Yeah whatever.” and made their way out of the bar.

Frankie relaxed a bit once he saw the guys leave, but he relaxed even more when Sadie appeared with a tray carrying two pitchers and a small glass.

“Alright, here’s those two pitchers, on Benny and Frankies tabs.” She said as she settled the pitchers in the middle of the table. “And one,” she grabbed the small glass that seemed to be a rum and coke. “thank you, on the house.” She leaned forward and placed the glass in front of Frankie before making eye contact with him and leaning in to rest a small kiss on his cheek. Frankies eyes fell to her mouth, and he wished she had closed the gap. He smiled and said thanks before she pulled away and went back to the bar.

The men all turned to Frankie, eyes wide at his interaction.

“Buddy, that is what I’m talking about.” Santiago cheered.

Benny and Will also showed their celebration as Frankie took a sip of his new drink.

“Now, I’ve been thinking about your closing move alright? She said she doesn’t have any help to close the bar down right?”

Frankie nodded at Santiago, agreeing with this statement.

“Well, there’s your in. Offer to stay and help her close. You and her alone in the empty bar for half an hour. Talk, make sure you show you’re interested. Graze your hand on her hip when you squeeze past her behind the bar. Stuff like that, and then boom once all the work is done. Close the deal.” He clapped his hands together and leaned forward with excitement. He hasn’t been more focused on a target in years.

Frankie nodded and agreed to this proposition. He sat in silence for a while as the other men talked and thought about how his cheek felt after Sadie kissed it. How it would feel to have that same softness grace his lips. Her hair smelt like lavender when she got that close to him, and he wanted nothing more than to grab the back of her head and lead her to his lips.

The night wore on without incident. Finally, Sadie came to the table with bills in hand and her machine. She started with Santiago, keying in his total and passing the machine to him while she chatted with the others about how sore her feet were from walking all night. Santiago passed the machine back to her and she watched as the receipt filed out. She pulled it from the machine without looking at the content and held it to her chest.

“Alright, moment of truth. Does Santi think I have a great ass?” She indicated to the boys with a nod that she needed a drum roll. The three men kindly obliged and started drumming their fingers on the table, Santiago rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the top of the booth. With a beat she pulled the receipt up to her face and dropped it with an open mouth smile on her face. “He does!”

They all cheered enthusiastically, except for Santiago who waved his hands conceding.

Sadie moved on to Will, and upon pulling his receipt through commented, “Hm, Will is more of a boob guy, good to know.” She smirked at him, and Benny smacked his shoulder with a full body laugh.

“Whoa, whoa that is not fair.” He laughed.

Sadie grinned and started keying in Bennys order. “I’m just kidding you, Willy.” She looked up and winked. He leaned back in his seat with a gapped expression, finding the interaction humorous of course. “I gotta joke a little bit otherwise jobs like this eat you alive.”

They all hummed in response, recalling all the pranks and jokes they used to get into in the service. No matter the circumstances, they still found a way to keep their head straight through some humor.

Sadie finished up all the bills, thanking Frankie with a gushing smile for his overzealous tip.

“Well, it was really nice to meet you all. I hope to take care of you all again soon.” She smiled and the guys said their thanks and started piling out of the booth.

Santiago patted his friend on back, “Aright buddy this is it. Good luck, I hope it works out however would make you the happiest.”

Frankie gave his friends an assuring nod before doing a quick jog to catch up with Sadie as she moved back to the bar.

“Hey Sadie?”

She turned, surprised and pleased that Frankie wasn’t following his friends out the door. “Hey Frankie, what’s up?”

Frankie rubbed his hands on his faded jeans, trying to calm himself once more. “Are you still closing by yourself tonight?”

“Yeah, unfortunately. The kitchen left an hour ago and the manager and other bartender will be leaving in a few minutes. Why?”

“Well, I uh, I don’t have any place to be, so I was wondering if you wanted some help?” he said cautiously.

She eyed him through squinted lids and looked at him up and down. Worn out baseball hat that probably hasn’t left his head in decades over curly brown hair. A tight grey T-shirt under a loose flannel shirt. Light jeans that probably didn’t start out that way but have been worn in the sun too long and washed too many times. He seemed harmless enough and he’s treated her well so far tonight, in fact so well she had started finding herself walking by him just to ensure he could catch a glimpse of her through the night.

“So, you want to stay late and help me clean, because you have nowhere else to be?” She asked with a pointed look.

He swallowed deep, “Yeah I just thought you would like the help and maybe the company.” He tried his best to sound light, meanwhile his ears with ringing with nervousness.

She took a beat to think once more, “So you’d help me clean and then we would both get to our own beds at a decent time tonight, right?” She emphasized “own”.

He nodded in agreement, “Sure, of course.”

Sadie started back behind the bar again and Frankie followed like a dog chasing a bone. “Alright Fish, you stay put here and once everyone else is gone we’ll get started.” With that she disappeared behind the employee entrance door.

Frankie sat at the bar by himself for 20 minutes, watching as the other customers exited slowly and as the rest of the staff said their goodnights to Sadie and then retreated to the employee entrance. It was 1:15am when she locked the door and closed the shades to the front windows.

She sauntered over to him, her cowboy boots clicking as she walked. She ran her finger from shoulder to shoulder on Frankies back. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the sensation. “Let’s get cleaning Mr. Helpful.”

Over the course of the next thirty minutes, they did just that. They cleaned and restocked the bar, all while recounting vacation stories, and childhood memories. Sadie talked about how she had gone into finance right out of high school and found it unfulfilling so she decided to go back to school in her late twenties to do something she could be proud of. Frankie talked of his friendship with the guys and although they had to go through terrible times to all be together, they were all still thankful they had the opportunity because now they have each other.

All the while Frankie kept Santiagos notes tucked away in head. He would graze his hand on hers when she would pass him something. He held her waist in place as he scooted behind her at the bar. He brushed her hair off her face when her hands were in rubber gloves doing dishes. Each time he had a physical interaction with her she felt that familiar burning sensation she had felt when Frankie had yelled at that prick that got handsy with her. She caught herself staring at his lips as he spoke and trying to position herself in a way that they would have to have some sort of physical contact. She couldn’t even understand why she was doing it all. She just wanted him to want her so badly.

Frankie finished his half of the cleaning list and approached Sadie who was at the pool table. She was leaned over wiping down the last part of the wood finished edges. He held his gaze on her ass and admired how plump it looked in her tight jeans. He shook his head to throw the devilish thoughts out of it and met her eyes when she turned to look at him.

“Well, that’s that. Thank you for all the help.” She threw the cloth into a bucket on the floor and leaned against the pool table with her arms crossed.

He took a few steps in and placed his left hand on the pool table beside her, resting some of his weight on it. “It was no problem hermosa. I had fun.” He smiled at her.

She squinted her eyes slightly, “That’s the second time you’ve called me that. What does it mean?”

He looked her up and down shyly, “Beautiful.” He said softly, meeting her eyes with an intense gaze.

She inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling in an extremely noticeable way. Frankie grinned at this as he checked out her cleavage quickly. She looked down at her feet for a moment, trying to determine the best way to respond to such a compliment. She lifted her head back up at him and asked, “Do you call all your friends beautiful?”

Frankie shrugged, shifting his weight slightly. “No,” he paused “Just you, and Benny of course.” He chuckled.

She rolled her head back with her laugh, “Well I don’t blame you; he is VERY pretty.” She grinned back at him.

“Truthfully though,” he leaned in slightly, trying to gage her physical response. “I’m not sure I still want to be your friend. I think I may want a little more than that.”

Sadie felt herself flush, “Well would I still get the discount on the helicopter rides?” she asked softly, intensifying her gaze.

He leaned in further, staring at her lips as he spoke. “Of course, it also comes with lots of other perks too.”

“Hm, like what?” She tilted her head up, catching a glimpse of him moistening his lips as she spoke.

“Like this.” He leaned in fully and latched his mouth onto hers.

It was a soft kiss, not wanting to read too much into things. She didn’t pull away, but he was still unsure if she was just being friendly. He broke the kiss and pulled his face away a few inches to look at her. She unfolded her arms and grazed one finger along his jaw line.

“That seems like a pretty good perk, but you said there’d be lots right?” She lowered her eyebrows and parted her lips, meeting his gaze.

He smirked and stepped into her, placing his hands on her hips as hers moved around his neck. They both opened their mouths for one another and deepened the kiss. It was hungry and passionate. He ran his hands over the exposed skin on her lower back and moaned at the warmth. Sadie glided her right hand around the curls at the top of Frankies neck and slid her left up and down his chest.

Frankie moved his hands lower to grab her plush thighs and in a swift motion hoisted her up to be seated on the edge of the pool table. She parted her legs for him, and he stood flush with her chest heaving against his.

She pulled away to start planting desperate kisses on his neck and he rubbed his hands on her ass through her tight jeans as she made her way up to swirl her tongue around in his left ear. He moaned at the feeling and her deep breathing in his ear. He ducked his head, and she pulled back so he could slot his mouth on hers again. He pulled her closer, so her aching core was pressed up against his stiff boner in his jeans. She gasped at the sensation of feeling how hard he was, and he revealed in the warmth radiating off her.

Frankie pulled off to start kissing down her neck. He moved the hair off her left shoulder with his hand as he nipped at her supple skin. He made his way down to her shoulder and groaned at how soft she was against his lips, better than he had imagined earlier. He nipped at her and grabbed the thin white strap with his teeth to pull it over and off to hang on her arm. He licked a stripe from the top of her shoulder up her neck and brought his hand up to palm her breast.

Sadie moaned and smiled with her eyes closed. “Okay, okay Frankie.” He pulled his head up to meet her eyes. “I just started here two weeks ago, and while I haven’t had the opportunity to read the employee handbook yet, I am fairly positive there will be something in there along the lines of don’t fuck the customers on the pool table.” He grinned at her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “So, why don’t we just go back to my place?”

He hummed, “I don’t know, didn’t you say something about ending up in our own beds tonight?” He emphasized own as she had done earlier.

She rolled her eyes, “Well I guess I’ve been persuaded otherwise.”

He reached his hand up and pulled the strap of her top back onto her shoulder, grazing his finger down her arm to rest his hand on the edge of the pool table. “Alright, well let’s get going then, because I’ve still got lots of perks to show you.” He popped his eyebrows up and gave her a knowing smile.

The energy between the two was electric as he helped her slide down the pool table back onto the floor. She took his hand and led him to the back to slip out of the employee entrance, locking the door as she left. They walked hand in hand to her red car. Based on the boots and the car, he was beginning to figure out her favourite colour. This theory was confirmed when he slid into her passenger seat and noticed the red fuzzy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror. He smiled to himself; he had fuzzy dice in his truck too.

The drive to her apartment was quiet but comfortable. They stole glances here and there and nodded along to the radio, each of them growing with excitement for what was to come. Frankie rested his hand on her thigh and rubbed tiny circles on the exposed part of her leg through a hole in her jeans. She silently thanked herself for her choice of pants today as the feeling of his calloused thumb stroking her thigh made her core ache for more. She peeked down at his hands and noticed just how large his fingers were. She snapped her head back up with eyes wide and tried to focus on the lights along the streets.

When they arrived at her apartment, it was after 2am. He followed her up the stairs, not wanting to keep too far of a distance from her as his hands ached to feel her again.

“This is me.” She nodded to the apartment door coming up on their right. She fumbled with her keys as she tried to unlock the door, her nerves getting higher by the second. Finally, the lock clicked, and she pushed the door open. She stepped into her apartment and stood in front of the door holding it open for Frankie.

He nodded and walked into the apartment, looking around as he did. There was a white kitchen with an eat in island. The island was covered in notebooks, textbooks, and pens. He imagined her hunched over working on her assignments and grinned to himself. The rest of the room had a small living area with a bright red couch facing a tv. The walls were decorated with framed floral photos and there were a variety of house plants along the windowsill. He stood near the island as she closed the door and put her keys and purse on the counter by the wall.

Sadie rounded the corner of the island, and he turned his head towards her, wrapping his left arm around her waist and pulling her in. She wrapped her hands around his sides, and he pulled her face into his with his right hand. Planting a desperate kiss to her plush lips. She released her lips from his and slowly brought her hand to his, leading him further into the apartment, into her bedroom.

The room was bright white with a white comforter. There were pops of colour with more floral accents adorned the walls. The makeup vanity had large circular bulbs around a round mirror with makeup scattered along the vanity top. Sadie walked over to the bedside table where a blush pink lamp sat and flicked on the light. Frankie admired how she looked in the dim lighting and rested his hands in his pockets as he watched her sit on the bed and take her boots off. Grunting as she popped the snug boots off her feet. She wiggled her toes at the relief from being on her feet all evening.

She stood up and rounded the bed towards him, he gave her a sheepish grin and brushed her hair off her shoulder before cupping her jaw with his hand.

She beamed up at him, “Hi.” She giggled.

Frankie smirked, “Hey you.” And leaned in planting an open mouth kiss on her.

He started backing her up towards the bed until the back of her knees hit the edge. He peeled his plaid shirt off his shoulders and threw it on the floor behind him. She reached for the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head, only breaking the kiss to move his shirt past and over his shoulders. He quickly grabbed his hat off his head and shifted it from one hand to the other as he pulled his arms out of his shirt. Placing it back on his head backwards. She ran her hands down his bare chest, stopping to rub her fingers on his treasure trail above his jeans.

The moonlight shone in her window above her bed through the light white curtains. He rubbed his hands along her back until he reached the bottom of her tank top and pulled it over her head. He did quick work to remove her strapless tan bra as well and tossed it aside. Frankie broke away slightly, enough so he could gawk at her supple breasts.

“Fuck, you are so sexy hermosa.” He pressed their bare chests against each other and slowly laid her down on the bed as she scooted backwards so her head was near the pillows.

He hovered above her and broke off the kiss to unbutton her jeans. He slid them down her legs, grabbing her socks as pulled them off. He slowly crawled back up the bed admiring her tan body underneath him. He slid a finger up and down her thigh before grazing it over her entrance atop her lace white panties. He hummed to himself, “Already this wet for me baby?”

“Oh Frankie, I started getting wet for you the minute you took care of those idiots at the bar for me.” She answered, moving her hips slightly to get more pressure from Frankies finger.

“Mmm, yeah? You like it when I take care of you?” She nodded, “You want me to take care of you right now?”

She looked desperate now, the teasing was getting the better of her. “Fuck, yes, Frankie please.”

He took her panties in his hands and yanked them down her legs, the teasing had seemingly stopped and he was going full tilt now.

He dropped down onto the bed and spread her legs with his rough hands, lining his face up with her dripping core, aching for relief. He took one last look at her body illuminated by the lamplight and licked a long stripe between her folds. She moaned in response. He started off so light, just tickling her with his tongue. It made her shiver, feeling his tongue dance around lightly between her thighs. She moved her hands to his head, slightly tugging at the soft curls peeking out under his hat. He continued this slow pace until she felt herself arching her back and reaching behind herself to the headboard.

Sadie suddenly felt a wave of pleasure as her orgasm overtook her and she moaned. Only as she started did he finally start applying pressure, causing her orgasm to linger for far longer than she’s used to. When she came down from her high, he picked up his pace and sucked on her clit until it popped out of his mouth.

“Fuck, Frankie. That was amazing.” She ran her hand over her face and tried to snap back into the moment.

He continued licking her core, “Mm not done with you yet baby.”

Frankie traced his fingers up her thigh before burying two deep in her pussy. She whined at the sudden sensation. He curled his fingers tightly inside her and licked her clit. She couldn’t help but buck her hips up into him as she writhed beneath his face. In and out he pulled his fingers, curling them more and more until she felt the snap in her gut again and flowed into her second orgasm. He pumped her still, letting her ride it out on his face.

When she finally came to a still and stopped moaning his name, he plucked his fingers out and wiped his face with his other hand. He crawled up the bed and met her gaze.

Sadie grabbed his face with her hands and pulled him in for a needy kiss. “How the fuck do you still have pants on?” She asked with a smile as she looked down between them.

Frankie rolled off her and swiftly tugged his pants down with his socks. Leaving him in his tight black Clavin Klein boxer briefs. He began to roll back onto her, “Uh uh, those too Fish.” She pointed at his boxers, and he smiled, rolling back over to pull them away and fling them off the bed. She took a wide look at his size and could feel the dampness pooling between her legs. “Fucking hell Frankie, how did you get the nickname Fish and not- fucking horse with that thing?” She gawked.

He smiled and rolled himself back onto her, “Well I don’t go showing it off or anything. Hey do you have?”

“Oh yeah in that drawer.” She pointed to the nightstand with the lamp on it and he leaned over to pull it open and pluck a condom package out of it. He quickly rolled it on and lined himself up at her entrance.

“You ready baby?” he asked playfully.

She nodded and bit her lip, he leaned down and met her lips with his as he reached his hand down, guiding himself into her.

Her breath hitched and broke the kiss as she felt the stretch of him. She met his eye contact with a wide look as she was overwhelmed by the feeling. He bit his lip and groaned, “You feel so good hermosa.”

He started rocking his hips back and forth slowly, going deeper each time until she was completely filled up. She grabbed his neck to steady herself underneath him as she tried to focus and not be completely tipped over the edge immediately. But she was already so overstimulated by the two orgasms. He picked up his pace and crashed his lips to hers. They made out desperately as he rocked into her, hitting his thighs against her hips. It was all tongue and teeth and moans between them.

“Oh baby, I’m so close.” His words falling from his mouth with barely any air left in his lungs.

She was dancing on the edge of immense pleasure as he gave two final deep thrust and grunted as he filled the condom. The way his cock swelled during his orgasm pushed her over the edge and she came crashing down into another for herself while he slowly rocked his hips, bringing them both down. He collapsed onto her chest and exhaled, trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he rolled off her and laid his forearm on his head as she panted beside him.

“That was,” he started.

“Fucking incredible.” She finished for him.

He smiled and rolled over, giving a loving kiss to her forehead before propping himself up and exiting the room to find the bathroom.

Sadie collected herself enough to ease her tired body under the comforter and turn off the lamp. Frankie came back in and smiled at her snuggled up, still lit up by the moonlight above her. He walked back over to the bed and slid in beside her. She rolled over and rested her head on his chest while his arm found its place behind her.

She drew little circles on his chest as she enjoyed how content the moment was.

“So, do you have any plans tomorrow. Or today I guess.” He chuckled as he looked at the time on his watch.

She grinned, “No I don’t think so.”

“Hm, would you want to hang out?”

“Sure, that’d be nice Frankie.” She smiled to herself as she warmed her face on his chest.

He rubbed her shoulder with his hand, “Anything you got in mind?”

She propped herself up to look at him and he met her eyes. “Well, I have had this evening long dream of going up in a helicopter with a handsome pilot.” She winked.

Frankie gave out a huffed chuckle, “I think I can take care of that for you.”

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #triple frontier fic #frankie morales smut

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yunhonumeris1fane · 8 months

Text

One Bed•JYH

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“The title explains it all. You are traveling together with the boys, as you encounter an issue with the hotel reservation, that leads you to sharing a room with that someone you dislike”

pairing - idol_yunho x non_idol fem reader

genre - suggestive(tiny bit of smut) to fluff

warnings - Smut (tiny tiny bit)

The boys were mid tour, as you joined them as ‘team member’, though more as a guest. You were studying music business, so your brother Hoongjoong suggested you join them for a week, to see the process of being a musician on tour. Almost all of the boys were welcoming, they were happy with your presence, except for Yunho. He was usually the type of person that chose not to be on bad terms with anyone, but you somehow landed on his bad side and so did he on yours. He couldn’t explain exactly why he disliked you, he thought you were too pretty, then too challenging, always too nosy, stubborn and so on. Almost a complete opposite of Hoongjoong. But there was something attractive in you, he couldn’t explain either. On the second day of you traveling with them, after the show ended, you spent the entire evening out in the streets by yourself, leaving the boys alone and he oddly missed you. He wanted to slap himself for having those kinds of thoughts. He couldn’t let himself fold over you.

Fast Forward to the 5th day, you just landed in Dallas and all of you are on the way to the hotel. Once you arrive, the managers lead the way to the reception, as the worst news of your life is announced.

“The rooms for the tour crew are alright, however we encountered an issue with the guys' rooms. You booked 5 deluxe twin bed rooms, but as there was an issue with our system, now there’s 4 rooms with two twin beds and one room with a regular double bed. We are really sorry, but our hotel is fully booked for tonight, so we can’t change the room” The receptionist explains the situation to the manager.

“Guys, two of you have to take the room, who’s taking it?” He turns around, expecting volunteers, but there’s none.

“I want to sleep alone” Seonghwa turns down the offer, slowly moving away from the crowd.

“Same” Yeosang raises his arm, so does Jongho and Hoongjoong.

“We all want to sleep in separate beds, but since it’s impossible, I vote for Yunho and Y/n to take the room with one bed” Wooyoung comes up with a solution, there’s a mischievous grin lingering on his face. He thinks he’s slick

“No, she’s not sharing a bed with any of you” Hoongjoon protests, there is no way he’d let his sister sleep with a man.

“Then you share the bed with her, she’s your sister”, Mingi suggests, as Hoongjoong instantly frowns.

“n-no…” he disagrees, with a shameful look on his face, “listen, she kicks when sleeping, she kicked me really hard a couple of days ago. It still hurts”

“Why can’t you two share a bed?” the manager turns to San and Wooyoung.

“No reason…We just don’t feel like sleeping next to each other tonight” they shrug in unison, as the manager rubs his temples, he’s had enough.

"Okay, hold up your hands if you think these two" Wooyoung points at you and Yunho, "should share the room" as he finishes, everyone's except Hoongjoong's hands are raised.

"We're not sharing the room Wooyoung" Yunho says firmly, with you nodding along.

But here you are, saying goodnight to your neighbors, as Yunho unlocks the door and lets you in first. Placing your travel bag down on the carpet floor, you stroll around the room, viewing the decor of the place. It is nice and modern, nothing too overwhelming.

"Well… At least the bed is large" you comment, eyes landing on a large and comfortable looking bed in the middle of the room.

"Yeah" Yunho mumbles as he runs through his luggage, "do you want to shower first?"

"You go first" you take out your phone to check up on your social media accounts.

While he’s in the shower, you sit down at the writing desk and scroll relentlessly through social media, snacking on a granola bar. So immersed in your phone, you forget that you’re sharing a room with Yunho and when you hear the door clicking, your heart stops for a moment.

He walks out of the bathroom, already changed into a black set of sleeping clothes, his hair still wet from the shower. If you didn't hate him, you'd definitely be down bad for him. But you don’t have time for these thoughts, so you throw your bag over your shoulder and sprint right into the bathroom.

After slamming the door shut, you undress yourself and hop in for a short but thorough shower. After you are done, you dry yourself with a towel, change into a fresh pj shirt and shorts set, complete your skincare and tie your hair in a low ponytail. Checking yourself in the mirror for one last time, you pick up your bag and head out.

The moment you leave the bathroom, you eyes meet Yunho laying on the bed, doing something on his phone. Your heartbeat increases rapidly, when you realize you'll have to sleep right next to him for the whole night.

“You’re just going to stand here?” He lifts his eyes off the screen, noticing you standing in the corner, spaced out to another universe. You immediately shake off all the unnecessary thoughts and plug in the charger, as your phone is at 5 percent. And since your phone is currently charging and you aren’t feeling very sleepy, you take out your favorite romance book to read before bed. Bad decision

Gathering all of your strength, you try to walk to the bed like a normal unbothered person, but you end up walking like a penguin. Good thing Yunho is too deep into his phone to notice your awkward walk. You slide under the covers, puffing up the pillow behind your head and open your book. A few pages later, you finally make it to the part where the main characters confront each other after a long slow burn. The male lead intertwines his fingers with the female lead and confesses, making you start giggling happily. That piques Yunho’s interest. He wants to know what you're so excited about, so he discreetly glances over at your book, but his eyes land on the page you haven’t read yet. And it is a part where the sexual tension is at its highest.

“That’s an interesting thing you’re reading” He comments, casually as you turn your head into his direction, there’s a questionable look on his face.You can’t seem to understand what he meant by that, as it was very fluffy, nothing out of ordinary.

“It’s just romance and cute, you wouldn’t understand”

Seeing that you still don’t get it, he points at the other page with his index finger, “this” and after reading the first paragraph you shut the book.

“I-don’t-read-these-pages-y’know… I only read for the cute things” You start babbling, knowing damn well you were just caught.

“Yeah sure”

“Fine, what if I read that, what’s wrong with that?” You confront him, admitting your choice in books.

“nothing, you don’t have to lie about reading freaky stuff”

“it’s not freaky, it’s art” you correct him.

“freaky art” He adds, making you feel very agitated.

“at least i read it and not watch the exaggerated stuff”

“good for you, there are good videos tho” He continues teasing you, enjoying how annoyed you are.

“we’re talking about porn now”

“you started it” he accuses you as you let out an exaggerated gasp.

“No! you started it, why pry on things that don’t have anything to do with you”

“What can I say, I’m curious” He wonders and looks over to you, you're staring at the wall, trying hard not to snap.

“Aren’t you going to continue reading?”

“Why do you want to know?” you question him, wondering if it’s another attempt to irritate you or just a genuine thought.

“I want to see what happens next”

Unfortunately, you want it too, so you open the book once again and find the page where the action starts. You hold the book in between both of you and start reading. When you get to the part where the female lead gets laid down on the bed and the male lead starts leaving trails of kisses from her neck down to her chest, you look away from the book, unable to focus.

“Eyes up here” Yunho points at the book, “We still have one page to go” He says, intrigued in the plot, so you get your eyes back on the book.

As the two of you are engulfed in the book, you fail to hear intruders entering your room.

“OmmoOO” You immediately look up to see your brother and Jongho standing at the doorstep.

“What a sight?! Never in this life have I imagined Yunho reading a book, reading a book with Y/n together” Jongho gasps, as Hoongjoong is completely frozen, like a block of ice.

“Listen… I was bored and…” Yunho tries to explain the situation, but his mind is slow.

“excuses excuses… What are you reading, can we read it?” Jongho inquires as he takes a few steps closer.

“No!” you hide the book under your back, protecting the innocent intruders from the damage of the book.

“Go to sleep, why are you here anyways?” Yunho distracts them from the topic of the book.

“Hoongjoong wanted to make sure everything is fine in this room, just watching out for Y/n” Jongho explains, trying to figure out what the two of you are hiding. It’s strange to see you two teaming up,

“Well I guess we will go, everything seems good. Sleep tight” Hoongjoong exchanges final words with you and they both leave.

“Did you finish reading the chapter, I couldn’t” Yunho breaks the long silence that has been lingering around ever since the boys left.

“They fucked, went to sleep. End of story. Goodnight” you place the book on the bedside table and lie down, turning your back to Yunho, who’s not happy with the way you explained.

“You’re very mean” Yunho admits as he lies down as well, turning to the other side, your back’s facing each other.

“So?”

“I didn’t hate you from the beginning, but your laid back attitude made me dislike you, you could be a little nicer” He as if scolds you.

“Everyone likes me, except you” you mumble, picking at the fabric of your pillow case.

“Cause I’m the only one you’re always complaining about”, he explains, “Wanna elaborate on that?”

“You’re just naturally annoying” you trail off, trying to find a good reason for disliking him. But there’s no exact one.

“You said Wooyoung’s too, why are you treating him better”

“I don’t know…S-stop interrogating me” you blurt out, now he’s really getting annoying.

“I’ll stop once you tell me the truth” He insists and you can’t take it anymore, so you pull off the covers and get off the bed, “I’ll sleep on the carpet”

He immediately sits up, turning to you, “No, you won’t” with that he reaches for your arm, wrapping his hand around, pulling you back to bed. But instead of hitting the mattress, you land on top of him. Your eyes meet and you stare into each other for a good moment, until his hand finds its way over to your face, pushing away a strand of hair that's blocking your view. He’s not resisting anymore.

“I really hate you” He murmurs as his thumb rests on your chin, “But I think I hate it more that I like you” he lets out a soft chuckle, “I don’t know if it makes any sense”

“I doesn’t” you breathe out, not breaking the eye contact. Now that you’re inches away from each other, suddenly all the hate you felt towards him vanishes. All you feel is an intense desire to kiss him and he can see it in your face too, as your eyes travel down to his lips.

“Go ahead” he reads you like a book, giving you a push as you inch your face closer to his. Gazing into his eyes for one last time, you close your eyes and connect your lips with his. His hands entangle into your hair, as you lead the kiss, exploring every inch of his mouth when he parts his lips. He likes it when you dominate, but he really wants to have you under him, so in a split second he swiftly flips you over. Now you're trapped under him and he reconnects his lips, with even much more hunger. Your hands automatically find its way to his back, fingers tracing every crevice of his back as he dips his knee in between your legs, causing a moan falling off your lips. Using the opportunity he glides his tongue through your lips, tasting the unfamiliar waters. Unconsciously, you find yourself grinding against his leg, desperate for some friction, now that you’ve gotten used to his lips moving against yours. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, as soon as he breaks off the kiss, there’s a smirk plastered over his face.

You reach for his shirt, wanting to unbutton it and look him in his now darkened eyes for approval. He doesn’t say anything, but kisses you again. You take it as a yes and reach for the button, slowly working your way down to the last one. Once his shirt is unbuttoned, your hands are all over him, your fingertips grazing at his soft skin. Wanting to play fair, he tugs at your shirt, “we need this off” he instructs as you lift yourself a little, helping him to take your shirt off. Then he sits up his heels and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. With a nod from you, he slides them down your legs and tosses them on the floor. Now that he’s partially satisfied he brings himself up to kiss you and then you feel his intense gaze memorizing your whole body. His eyes are burning with desire, as he runs his fingers down your body. Even if he really wants to love you tonight, there’s uncertainty lurking behind his eyes.

“What is it” You ask him, your voice barely audible.

“I don’t think this is right” He’s once again face to face with you, “I think we’re going to fast” his thumb draws circles on your cheek.

“Did you change your mind, you don’t want to sleep with me?”

“Fuck no. I’m really trying not to go insane and take you from behind right now, but I think we should get to know each other in real life, before getting to know each other in bed” He explains with soft spoken words.

“Let’s talk then and you do what you just said” You encourage him, he riled you up for no reason, if he doesn’t want to do it.

“You really have no chill” he laughs at your desperation, all smug from knowing that he has you in a chokehold now.

“I just really don’t want to wait for months to get railed” you admit, trying hard to change his mind, but he’s too stubborn.

“Well isn’t that exciting, that after that month, once I’m home, you get a reward, for being a good girl and waiting patiently”

“You’re not helping!” You playfully punch him in his bare chest, “What if you don’t like me anymore then?”

“You’ve got me all wrong, I don’t move on that quickly” He assures you as he takes your hands into his, intertwining your fingers with his, “This was a promise and I keep my promises”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡

A/n I really don’t know how to write toe gripping smut, so I’m leaving you on a hang here.

#ateez #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #yunho fluff #yunho x reader #ateez yunho #yunho smut #yunho

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sex-storytime · 9 months

Text

Raven

It was finally Friday and I would once again charge forth bravely into the night searching for love or at least a good time; to embark with the boldest intentions and the most optimistic outlook. I wouldn't be so shy this time and I'd get out and meet people and have fun. I'd find love, or at least a lover right? Sure... Well at least I'd have a few beers and watch other more confident guys do just that.

My plan was the same flawless failure I've always employed: hanging out at the local bar! I liked to show up early, around 8:30 I guess. Many of the regulars were there early and you could cruise around and exchange greetings before the out-of-towners and once-in-a-whilers showed up and packed the place. Some people might think it was weird that I would go there alone, but I wasn't alone if I knew 10-15 people in the bar (which I usually did). I wasn't like a "Hey NORM!" kind of guy, but I did get "hey," and "yo" (which came with the obligatory 3-part handshake/finger-clasp/fist-punch 'homey' greeting), so that was cool...

I strolled in at my usual time, scanned the bar, and there she was. Whoah. There were times when for whatever inexplicable reason, stunningly beautiful women would bless the bar with their presence. She was a fine example. I could immediately sense the tension around her. At this point, the clientele in the bar was comprised of people in a relationship or hapless dorks like me. For now, her beauty helped radiate an aura of intimidation that kept everyone at a safe distance.

She looked to be about twenty-five. Her skin was porcelain which contrasted the dark waves of raven hair falling down to the middle of her back. She sat neatly cross-legged on the barstool wearing a silky brown number that was low cut in the front, even lower cut in the back, and only went down just a little ways past her hips. She wore sparkling high heels with straps that wrapped halfway up her well-toned calves. She had several large metal bracelets on each arm and her ears were adorned ornate feathered earrings. Freckles covered the tops of her arms, back, and presumably chest and face (I couldn't see that yet). I drank in the sight of her in the spare second I had while I was casually scanning the room. The next second, my eyes fell on her friend.

Ah yes, the ultimate armor: the heavier-set, shorter, but still kind-of-cute best friend. Now I'm no ladies man, but I know the setup. I've seen it plenty of times in this place. It was like watching National Geographic. The antelope must band together to fend off attacks from the pouncing solitary tigers. Now I immediately knew that gorgeous woman was way out of my league, but I relished the opportunity to watch her as well as the drama that was likely to unfold around her.

I bellied up to the bar down the way from her so I could see her face. Yep, she had freckles. She was very pretty though - big eyes. They looked green to me; maybe hazel. Then she smiled at her friend. Wow, nice white teeth - very pretty smile. The edges of her lips formed a cute little crease that betrayed the slightest aging of her skin. She then turned her head my way. Her eyes settled on mine for just a second, and her smile lingered for just a second, before moving on. She saw me. She thought I was worth a look. She did right? Okay, I wasn't really sure.

I mean, who was I kidding? Here I was, a thirty-four year old guy of average height. I still had my dusty blonde straw-like hair, wild as always. I've drunk plenty of beer in my time and had a bit of a gut to show for it. It wasn't too bad though. I hid it well by wearing hemmed button-up shirts and a decent pair of slacks. I dusted myself in Obsession (for men), and I'm sure that helped too. While I've always thought my face was kind of doofy looking I've had girls tell me I was cute in a Simon Pegg kind of way.

It didn't matter though; I wasn't going to try to talk to her. Not now anyway. Maybe, after I've slurped a couple more pints of liquid courage. Maybe, if I could get her attention again. Maybe... But for the time being, I just ordered a beer and made the rounds saying "hi" to my friends and acquaintances.

I ended up sitting with Linda and Gary, an older married couple. They were pretty cool. I just chilled with my beer, listened to the music (which was of the slower tempo, not-ready-to-light-the-dance floor variety), and occasionally stole glances at the pale beauty sitting at the bar across from me, back turned. I hadn't even finished my first beer when her friend suddenly got up, calmly grabbed her purse, and left the bar. I was a little surprised. Surely she was just going to the car to grab something, right? She'd be right back.

I downed the rest of my beer and headed back up to the bar. Maybe I could make eye contact again. Maybe I'd even figure out if her friend was coming back. I stood at the end of the bar and casually stared in her direction, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She seemed very composed, but a little nervous too. The expression on her face was very... business-like. Wow, I maybe she WAS alone. Just then she glanced up and caught my eye again. She lingered this time, for a half second, maybe even a whole second. It was just long enough for me to start getting scared wondering who would break contact first. Her lip starts to curl. She was going to smile at me! And then HE slid in and cut off her view from me.

Cock block! Well, I didn't have any claim, but still... she was going to smile at me! Grrr... Instead she turned her head up and fired off the half-cocked smile at him. Great. I didn't even see him come in. I took a quick look around and realized that the bar was starting to fill up. He must've been a recent arrival. What a classic douche: over 6 foot tall, pink shirt with a popped collar, and a white baseball cap cocked to the side in that schmucky I'm-too-cool-to-wear-clothes-normally fashion. He propped himself up on the bar, scooted right into her personal space, leaned in, and started talking into her ear. I hated him already.

I tried to watch her reaction to him. She seemed mildly (or was it politely?) interested in him. He bought her a drink. It looked like a cranberry and vodka. She daintily sipped it through the two coffee straws parked in the ice. Alas... another fine specimen lost to douchebaggery. I ordered another beer and headed back to my table. By this time, the lights had been turned a little lower, the disco ball was lit up, and the dance music began cranking through the speakers. I really did think that Kanye West Gold Digger song was pretty cool – the first twenty times I heard it.

Linda and Gary got up a couple times to dance. It was always hilarious to see an older couple shaking it to hip hop and modern pop songs. Meanwhile, I kept tracking back to my prized eye-candy for the evening. She was still sitting at the bar. Her friend never came back. The douche was still hanging around too. Clearly, he was trying to monopolize her attention. She seemed polite, but I couldn't really tell if she was enjoying herself or not. It looked like she was still nursing the first drink he bought her.

As was usually the case, the more beer I drank, the faster I drank it. Needing another refill, I sauntered up to the bar. This time I boldly decided to park myself right next to her. As I looked around, I realized that the bar was getting pretty full. The bartender was literally running back and forth behind the bar to fill orders. Okay, it was more like a half-assed jog, but you get my point. Her back was still turned to me because the douche was demanding her attention, carrying on about something – probably the size of the stereo in his rice burner. So I just patiently waited for my turn to order, trying to look cool.

The bartender caught my eye and I raised my empty glass to indicate I wanted another beer. He starts walking over towards the tap when the douche flags him down with some other order. Damn! I got bartender-blocked too! Before I could mope to myself, I realized my luck had just turned. With the frat-boy's attention set on the bartender, the pale beauty I'd been admiring all night finally turned around and noticed me standing there. Those big bright green eyes sized me up and in a heartbeat she fired off that smile again. She'd been saving it!

"Hi," she said sweetly.

"Um, hi," I responded in my best oh-yeah-I'm-cool manner. With her eyes on me, I looked over her shoulder at Pepto-Biff-Tannen and did my best impression of him trying to lean-swagger so hard against the bar while pantomiming the turn of an imaginary cap on my head.. She let out a little giggle and I smiled back, genuinely this time. Taking it further, I hammed it up pretending to flip up a non-existent collar while giving her the wankster "what's up" shrug of my head. She got her hand up to her face just in time to snort as sudden convulsions of silent laughter bounced her body up and down.

She locked eyes with me and then turned her head to take a knowing stare at Yacht-club-dropout who was still oblivious to our impromptu mockery. Her eyes flashed and that smile came firing out again. It was clear a mischievous thought had come to her mind. She pulled the straws out of her drink, gulped the rest of it, and set the glass down on the counter.

"Do you want to dance?" she asked me, looking me straight in the eye almost as if it were a command instead of an entreaty.

I was shocked. Really? She wanted to dance with me? What I really couldn't believe was that the next thought to enter my mind was, 'but I haven't gotten my beer yet.' Like waiting even another second for Preppy-Billy-Zabka to turn back around was advisable. Fortunately, I come to my senses quickly.

"Sure," I replied with an air of faux nonchalance, setting my empty mug down.

I took her hand and lead her out onto the dance floor. Lost Without U by Robin Thicke was playing. Perfect. As we get onto the dance floor, I realized how tall she was. I'm 5'10, and with those heels, she was just a bit taller than me. She smiled and wrapped her arms around my neck, content to dance close to me. I put my hands on the small of her back and leaned in to smell her hair. Mmm... very floral, perhaps a hint of vanilla. I breathed it in deeply, feeling it stir jittery butterflies in my core. One of her hands slid down my back as she stepped in a bit closer. A trail of goose bumps burrowed its way down my arm.

After about a minute of this pure bliss, she leaned back a bit and smiled, "Sorry about dragging you out here like that. I really needed to get away from that guy."

Yeah, it was a REAL inconvenience to have to dance closely with such an attractive woman. "Sure, no problem," I replied casually.

Reminded of the alpha-jock-archetype, I glanced back over at the bar to see him leaning back watching us, clearly fuming. "Yeah, your man-friend back there doesn't look too happy."

She tilted her head back a bit and rolled her eyes, "Ughh," before stepping back in to dance close again.

We dance for a few moments more. As I watch her expressions, it was clear was scheming about something. Then, as if an epiphany struck, her eyes lit up and she smiled that big, deadly smile at me, "Hey, can I ask you a favor?"

Anything. ANYTHING! I'll do anything for you.

"What?" I ask.

"Would you be my boyfriend?"

Huh?

"Your boyfriend? Wow, you move fast," I replied almost hoping she really did move that fast.

"No no no silly... You know..." she made air-quotes with her hands in front of my face before wrapping them back around my neck, "a 'boyfriend'. So I don't have to put up with creeps like that guy back there."

Oh... a pretend boyfriend. Got it.

"Oh I see what you mean," I replied pausing, only not to seem too eager, "Sure, I can do that."

I'm all smiles now. Of COURSE I can do that. When the song ended, I lead her back to my table and we sat down with Gary and Linda. I politely flagged down the waitress and ordered the next round of beers and cranberry-vodka.

We talked. I learned that her name was Brandy and recited 'Brandy Brandy Brandy!' a thousand times silently in my head to lock it in. I also learned that she was a receptionist at a local business that sells parts for industrial manufacturing or something like that. She revealed that her friend had to leave because she worked early the next day. Brandy was going to leave too, but it'd been so long since she's been out that she decided to stay. She leaned over and told me she almost regretted the decision because of the pink-narcissus. It turned out that her polite attitude towards him was just that: being polite to some random creepy guy.

I started rattling off some of my euphemisms for guys like him and she snorts again in laughter. "Ha ha!" she giggles, putting her hand on my leg, "Pepto-Biff-Tannen! That's hilarious! He kept going on and on about all the offroading he does, blah blah blah."

I also learned that Brandy was no slouch in the drinking department. It took her nearly an hour to finish her first cranberry and vodka. It only took her another hour to finish the next three. With each drink she became more open and vibrant. She laughed more often. She touched me more often. I didn't know if she was simply maintaining the ruse of us as a couple for onlookers, or if that's simply how she was. Mr-Overcompensates was still prowling around the bar. He'd moved to hitting on other women, but he was still keeping an eye on us.

And then Sexyback came on over the speakers and she DRAGGED me out onto the dance floor. Immediately, Brandy turned around, backed up her tush and started repeatedly slapping it against my pelvis while lifting her hair with both hands and letting it fall onto her shoulders. She was having a great time. More importantly, she was having a great time with ME!

At this point, I just tried to stand there and look cool, maybe swaying a bit to the beat. There was an audience of other men watching her, lust in their eyes. Other couples were on the dance floor, but the spotlight might as well have been on Brandy.

She turned around, placed her hands on my sides and went into a full squat. Perching on those heels with her legs fully folded, she parked her face right in front of my crotch. Now I had sprung wood the moment her rear had slammed into me the first time. It couldn't be helped. I'm sure she knew. How could she not? And now she was taking a good look at her handy work. On her way back up, she nudged my belly with her head, waving her hair all around. I looked down to see a lustful, pouty, open-mouthed look dancing on her face.

It was a very sexy routine. I couldn't tell if she'd practiced it before. Her technique wasn't flawless, but her enthusiasm was excellent. I put my arms around her and pulled her in close for some more intimate dancing. I ran my hand up her neck through her hair and then wrapped it around her head, massaging the lobe of her ear with my thumb. I wrapped my other arm around her and held her close. Our hips worked frantically, trying to grind the beat into each other. My manhood was at full attention and lasciviously pressing itself into her belly. She had to know it was there and seemed to relish focusing her rhythmic bodily contact at that point.

We ground our way lustily through the next song as well. Sometimes we changed position, but we were always rubbing hips. It was like we were having sex... with our clothes on... with an audience. Thanks to Brandy's provocative gyrations, I had a few moments where I wondered if I could 'contain' the excitement boiling in my pants. The dancing was hard work too. Pretty soon we had both built up a steady moisture and were wiping sheen from our brows. She looked much sexier doing so than I did.

When the song ended, we got off the dance floor and she planted a long wet kiss on my cheek. Then she laughed and said, "That was fun."

The musk of her glow had combined well with the scent of her perfume. She smelled intoxicating. It was like she'd been switched on. I imagined that she would smell equally great after making love. Hell, we'd just practically made love in all but the penetration and climax.

As I lead her back to our table, I couldn't help it. I had to blurt it out, "I like you. You're fun."

My sentiment came out completely childish, but she just smiled back and said, "I like you too!"

And so the night went on. She laughed at my corny jokes and when a good song came on, she dragged me back out onto the dance floor for another workout. When the DJ called last-call for alcohol, she was clearly disappointed, "Oh... So soon? But I'm not ready to go home yet!"

As luck would have it, I knew of an after-party that a couple of the bar-regulars held routinely. I was a little leery of suggesting it to her as I knew we would be greatly outnumbered by other guys, but it didn't matter. As soon as I mentioned it she jumped at the idea, "Let's go! Can you drive?"

So we decided to go. I could tell upon arrival that Brandy was not impressed. The house had a very run-down frat feeling to it. She stayed close to my side as we walked into the shabby living room and I exchanged greetings with a few guys I knew. Then we grabbed a couple cans of Icehouse beer (yum-yum! – NOT) and parked it on one of the beat-up couches. She sat on my lap and wrapped an arm around my neck. Based on her trepidation, I wasn't sure if she was really that into me, or just leery of EVERYONE else at the house. There was dance music playing and a few of the girls who showed up were dancing/stumbling around in the living room. Brandy seemed content to stay seated on my lap, rocking a bit to the beat. Of course, her proximity and steady rocking motion guaranteed my perpetual hard-on would last, frustrated to the early morning hours. There was no way she couldn't have noticed, but she never said anything. Instead, she just continued smiling and nuzzling her butt into my lap.

The upbeat energy of dancing and drinking at the club had not carried over successfully to the afterparty and before long, I could see the late hour and the alcohol taking its toll on Brandy. She'd curled her legs up and was resting her head on my shoulders. As much as I enjoyed the cuddle and stroking her long dark hair, my concern for her wellbeing eventually took over.

"Had enough fun for tonight?" I inquire, brushing a strand of hair away from her pretty face.

It wasn't meant to be a loaded question, but I was almost hoping she would say 'Not yet! I'm saving the best for last!' or something to that effect. Instead, she just nods her head and mumbles out an "Mmm hmm."

"Ok," I whispered close into her ear. "Is it okay if we leave your car at the bar for tonight?"

"No car. Took a cab."

"Oh, okay. Well I can drive you home if you want. Where do you live?"

"Aw... can't we go to your house?" she purred, running her finger down my chest.

Suddenly, I had gone from 'boyfriend' to BOYFRIEND. I feel a little guilty because I know she'd had too much to drink, but how can I refuse an offer like that?

She seemed to come alive suddenly and stood up off the couch reaching her hand out to me. Then she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, "Come on loverboy! Take me home!" which drew immediate ogling "Oooooohhh's" from everyone in the vicinity. A couple of my friends gave me the whistle-wink-thumbs-up routine, knowing that for me to leave the party with a pretty woman on my arm was a rare thing indeed.

So I grabbed her jacket off the couch and hurried her out of the house to a cacophony of catcalls. She giggled the whole way. Once we were in the car, she turned to me, leaned over, and planted a wet kiss on my cheek.

"I had soooo much fun tonight! Thanks!"

"You're welcome," I replied warmly. "I had fun too."

Then her mood quickly turned sad. "I have a confession to make though," she frowned.

Uh oh, here it came. "What's that?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and sighed loudly, "I have a boyfriend."

All I could think was, 'What the fuck?'

"You mean other than your current 'boyfriend'?" I ask, referring to myself.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. ...I do. He doesn't like to go out," she sighs again, "I had a great time though."

Me too. I was certainly disappointed, but compared to any other Friday night in my life, this was still a top-tier evening. So I sucked it up and tried to make the best of it.

"Oh... so do you want me to just drive you home then?"

"Um well, he thinks I'm at my girlfriends tonight... Would you mind if I stayed with you?"

"Um..." I stuttered, not sure what to think.

"I'm sorry if I'm putting you out."

"No, it's okay. I don't mind," I replied, trying to hide my confusion. Why had she told me she had a boyfriend and then asked to stay over? Was this her way of politely backing out of any further intimacy?

"Okay, okay... but NOTHING's going to happen," she said while wagging her finger in a no-no pattern, "You understand that right?"

Sure I understood. I had a universal signal I briefly pondered giving her replete with a nice boot out the car door. 'Think about that while you're walking home!' But I couldn't do that. I was a nice guy, and up until this point, I'd had a really fun evening. So I just mentally prepared for the inevitable frustrating end to our evening and replied as politely as I could.

"Yeah, sure. I even have a spare bedroom."

"You do? Perfect! Thank you so much! You're so nice to me..."

Nice? Uh oh. Friend Zone.

The drive home was quiet. She cuddled up and turned away from me in her seat and appeared to be asleep. When we arrived at my house, I had to open the door and help her out of the car.

With her arm around my shoulder and my arm around her waist, I helped her inside and up the stairs. Despite the recent turn of events, I still got goosebumps from feeling her pressed against me and smelling her hair.

"You have a nice... house," she mumbled.

"Thanks," I said as we crested the stairs.

I got her into the spare bedroom where my mother would stay when she came to town. I hadn't washed the sheets yet from Mom's last visit, but at least the bed was made (thanks Mom). I flicked on the light and showed Brandy in.

She looked around and smiled, "This will do nicely."

With that, she shuffled over to the bed, sat down and began undoing the straps of her high heels. I stood in the doorway, ready to offer assistance if she needed it. She didn't. A moment later her shoes were off and she stood up. For the first time tonight, she was shorter than me.

Then she looked at me, smiled, and reached down to grab the hem of her dress. In one quick motion she flipped it up over her hips revealing a lacy blue thong beneath. It was happening so quickly, I didn't even think to turn away. A couple of wiggles later, she had the entire dress up over her head, exposing a cute lacy blue bra lifting up her small, pert breasts. The dress fell to the floor and she immediately set about unfastening her bra. It fell away easily as well.

There Brandy stood before me wearing only a tiny thong. Her demeanor suggested that being nearly naked before me was perfectly normal. She made a big show of stretching as she lifted her arms over her head and yawned, her breasts rising and falling before me. Then winked at me, turned around, wiggled her tush, and began peeling back the covers on my bed.

Then the show was over as quickly as it had begun. She climbed into the bed, pulled up the covers tight, and let out a long sigh.

"Can you turn out the lights?"

"Okay, um... goodnight then."

"Night night!"

Bewildered, I turned off the light, closed the door, and shuffled off to my own bedroom. It was 4 am by this time, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. Instead, I just laid in bed thinking to myself over and over, 'What the hell? There is a beautiful, nearly-naked woman in my own house yet I'm sleeping alone. What the hell? We danced. We hugged. I smelled her perfume. I played with her hair. She flirted with me the WHOLE time, yet here I am still sleeping alone. WHAT THE HELL?'

My thoughts wandered to her innocent little strip tease, the image of her lithe, fabulous body was burned into my brain. I imagined that instead of turning me away, she had continued to tease me. After undressing, she would lay back on the bed and begin rubbing herself through her panties while tweaking a nipple with her free hand.

"I had so much fun tonight," she would say. "Dancing all night, holding you close. Rubbing up against your hard cock..."

Then I would go to the side of the bed, sit on the edge, and watch her continue to rub herself and talk dirty to me...

"Yes, I know I made you hard... and I liked it. I kept you hard all night, rubbing my ass against you on the dance floor... Sitting on your lap and wiggling against your dick. I could tell it was big too. I liked that."

I would say nothing, instead continuing to watch her hand rub circles on the front of her panties. Maybe I would put a hand on her leg and gently pet her thigh...

"I've been wondering all night how your cock would feel in my pussy. Rubbing and dancing and holding you close... It's made me so wet. Can you see it?"

She would then lift her hand away from her mound, grabbing the top of her thong and pulling it tight against her sex. It was quite evident that her pussy was engorged, soaking through the front of her panties...

My lewd thoughts of Brandy had finally become more than I could stand. I had my hand down in my boxers, gently stroking myself as I fantasized about what would happen next. I was getting pretty into it when I heard a knock at my bedroom door. Brandy's almost child-like voice called out my name tentatively.

Embarrassed, I whipped my hand back out of my boxers and rolled over onto my belly. Like modesty mattered at this point.

"Yes?" I replied.

The door opened slightly, and through the shadows I could make out her sticking her head in.

"It's really cold in there."

Then I remembered that I had closed the vents in the ceiling of the spare bedroom to save on heating costs. "Oh, right... I'm sorry. The vents are closed. I can open them for you." I started to get out of bed but then hesitated when I realized she'd see my tented, wet-spot appointed boxers.

Perhaps she misread my hesitation, but she saved me. "No, that's okay," she said, slipping inside the doorway with her arms folded across her naked chest. "I was actually... I was wondering if I could maybe stay with you?"

A thousand questions ran through my head, but I only needed one answer, "Um, sure."

I saw her figure hurriedly approach in the moonlight as I pulled the covers aside and made room. She climbed in quickly and snuggled up against me. Eager to touch her again, I was surprised by how cold her skin was.

"Brrr..." she shivered.

I wrapped my arms around her and we settled into a spooning position. Once again, her butt was pressed into my crotch. A little chagrined, I wasn't sure what to do or think next. Do I just try to fall asleep with this gorgeous woman in my arms? Do I make a move? Would I be taking advantage of her? What the hell?

"Hmmm..." she purred, "You're warm."

And with that, she went still. Soon, her breathing becomes the measured in and out of a woman comfortably asleep.

I laid still with her in my arms for as long as I could. Though it was probably only minutes, it felt like I had held myself politely still for hours. Eventually, curiosity got the better of me. I slowly began to run my hand down her thigh, lingering on her butt just long enough to caress it and then back down again.

I did this for about two minutes before she sighed and rolled forward onto her tummy. My hand froze, but her breathing stayed calm and measured. So my hand began wandering again, down her thigh and then up over her cute little butt to caress her back. I continued tentatively exploring Brandy's body, savoring the feel of her smooth naked skin.

I heard what I would have described as a contented mumble as I slid my hand back down her back. Her butt wiggled slightly and her legs spread apart. Her skin had quickly gone from cold to warm.

Emboldened, I took extra time caressing her butt on the next pass. I even went so far as to grab a handful and squeeze gently.

I was just about to move on to caressing her thigh when her hand snaked out and slapped mine.

'Uh oh,' I think to myself, 'I'm in trouble now.'

But instead of admonishing me further, her hand moved off of mine and down between the fabric of her panties and the fleshy crevasse of her butt. Grabbing a bunch of material, she yanked her thong upwards, pushing the lips of her sex aside as her wet gusset slid between.

She let out a contented sigh as I watched her, frozen with nervous excitement. After a brief tug, her hand let go, went limp again, and then slowly retreated back under her pillow. I was so surprised I didn't move, unsure of what had just happened. Was that deliberate or was she acting out in her sleep?

I slowly moved the covers aside and looked at her in the moonlight. I could barely make out her lips peeking out of either side of her stretched thong.

I was so entranced by the sight of her sex in the pale light, I simply sat there and stared at it. Moments passed quietly as I gazed upon her, transfixed. As if she had become impatient, her butt started to wiggle again. Snapping back into the moment, I took her gesture as an invitation. I reached my hand back down to caress her butt. My touch was met with a muted sigh of contentment.

Encouraged, I moved from slowly from rubbing her cheeks to slipping my fingers down under her thong, just as she had moments before. This elicited another contented sigh as my fingers immediately felt her wetness. I used my pointer finger to peel aside her thong while my middle finger caressed her sex.

I felt her hips shift as she pressed subtly back against my hand. What sort of game was this we were playing? Was she really asleep and reacting as if in a dream, or was she merely pretending to be asleep as part of some odd ploy to avoid responsibility for whatever was going to happen next? Either way, her body very much wanted me to continue. As I slipped my hand further down into her crotch, I used my fingers to spread her sex. It opened easily: wet, warm, and inviting.

Holding her thong aside with my thumb, I began running my two fingers up and down her labia. She continued subtly gyrating her hips and moaning softly into the pillow as I stroked her pussy and slipped a finger inside. Keeping my right hand working on her sex, I used my free hand to prop myself up onto my knees and straddled myself over her.

My hardon had never subsided, but my need felt more urgent now than it had all night. I fished out my erect penis from the slit in my boxers and began lazily stroking myself as I continued to administer to her wet, increasingly needy crevasse with my now sopping fingers.

I was incredibly turned on by our "unconscious" role play. I wanted to be inside her so badly. Would she allow the game to go that far? Was it what she wanted? At this point, what could it hurt to try and find out? I gently slid my fingers away from her sex, painting a wet trail on her bare as cheeks.

I paused a moment to see what she would do when I stopped playing with her pussy. For a few moments: nothing. Then I heard a muffled whimper as her ass wiggled again. She wanted more.

I sat up a bit more so I could work my boxers over my hips, springing free my engorged prick. I then carefully worked my underwear down past my knees and off. Brandi continued to whine and wiggle her tush almost as if she knew what I was about to do and couldn't wait.

I grabbed my cock and stroked it a couple more times as I squatted back down onto the back of her thighs. I aimed myself at her exposed sex and rested my head just above the entrance to her vagina.

She wiggled her butt again, swirling my cockhead around in her juices. I worked my hips with her gyrations to prevent her from slipping inside her. The thought of teasing her now seemed like a mild form of justice for the way she'd teased me all night. More than that though, I really needed to know for sure that she wanted me inside her. I needed to know I wasn't about to take advantage of a passed out young woman who only seemed to be enjoying my ministrations.

"Tell me you want it," I instructed calmly. "Tell me you want me to fuck you right now."

Silence. Her hips continued to jiggle, coaxing me on. I continued resisting, pulling back if her moist lips got too close to drawing me in.

"Say it...," I commanded now.

This time, her hips stopped moving. There was a long pause...

"Mmmm... Fuck me baby...," she relented in a passionate whisper.

That was all I needed. I relaxed my hips and slid forward slightly. As I did so, my dick finally breached the divide between teasing and fucking as my cockhead slowly eased its way into her. Brandy's hips didn't move, but I heard her exhale a long, contented sigh.

She felt wonderful. Already sloppy wet from our tease-play, her vagina accepted my manhood with a warm, snug embrace. I carefully eased myself forward, savoring every bit of her depth as I slid myself to the hilt. Aside from her sigh, Brandy was silent and motionless. Her body seemed completely relaxed with nary a tight muscle to be seen or felt. I slid myself back out just as slowly, observing the moist sheen she had deposited on my dick.

I started to steady my pace: slowly in, slowly out. I wanted to take my time enjoying the lewd circumstances of our joining. There she was like a ragdoll, letting me pull aside her thong and fuck her all while acting oblivious to everything that was going on. I continued caressing her butt and pulling on her thong as I slid in and out. Despite my best intentions, I began quickening my pace. Her pussy was coating me with her juices and the sight of her ass crack totally exposed was such a turn on, I couldn't help myself.

Before I knew it, I was fucking her properly; thrusting in and out. Though still relaxed, Brandy's breathing had intensified with my strokes. A slight vocalization escaped her lips each time I drove it home almost as if I was pumping life into her. By now I had given up the pretense of "sneaking sex" without "waking" her. My hands were gripping her butt tightly to steady my rhythm. I was breathing heavily. The whole bed was shaking. The headboard was smacking against the wall.

It felt so good. I knew I would not be able to last much longer. Only now did it dawn on me that, since I wasn't wearing protection of any sort, she might not like it if I came inside her. There was no time to make a reasoned analysis of my options, so I settled on breaking my silence again and giving her warning.

"Oh god baby! I'm going to cum soon..."

That elicited an immediate moan as if the anticipation of me fully "violating" her was going to push her over the edge. Her body curled a bit as she tightened her grip on her pillow.

"Fuck me," she whispered. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..."

I took that as permission to spill my seed inside her and pulled off the throttle a bit. I changed up my quick pumping for longer, deeper thrusts; each one prompting a complimentary "ugh" from Brandy muffled into her pillow. At the precipice of ecstasy, I shoved deep into her one last time, pressing the head of my cock up against her cervix. I tensed my muscles holding off the coming release for as long as I could. A moment later, my orgasm overcame that fickle barrier and exploded ejaculate in deep, forceful bursts against the walls of her sex.

"Ummmm..... cumming!" I warned her, a bit too late.

She was already reacting to the sensation of throbbing head releasing semen. Her hips began bucking more wildly than ever before, trying to milk the last bits of pleasure from my cock.

"Oh God yes! Adam! Yesssss!" she screamed as if waking from her self-imposed stupor.

Adam? My name's not Adam.

I refused to ruin the moment though. Her body started shuddering. I held her quivering ass tight, keeping myself buried deep in her as she rode out wave after wave of orgasm. Eventually the bucking of her hips subsided and her head rolled to the side. No longer muffled by the pillow, she took a deep breath and let out a long contented sigh.

"Mmmmmm...."

Her eyes were still closed, but I could see the crease of a slight smile on her face. Enjoying the moment, I caressed her body once more. I massaged her butt, rubbed my hands up and down her back, and then down the sides of her thighs. Brandy's only response was goosepimples. Then I slowly drew myself out. She shuddered one last time as the tip of my head left her sex and then she went still again.

Exhausted, I fell back on the bed beside her. I wasn't sure what had just happened, but damn it sure felt great. I just hoped I had read her signals properly. The grin plastered on her face suggested that I had. I wasn't sure who Adam was though. Did she think my name was "Adam"? Was that her boyfriend's name? The questions swirled in my mind for only a moment. As the euphoria of sexual release began to wear off, sleep quickly claimed me.

I woke up the next morning and found her gone from the bed. "Oh crap," I thought to myself, remembering back to the deeds of last night. Had I done something wrong? Where had she gone?

Just then, I heard the toilet flush in my bathroom and I saw her come out. She was now fully dressed and seemed to be in a giddy mood. In her hand, I spied what could only be the wadded, soiled material of her thong.

"Hey there sleepy-head!" she greeted me, sitting on the edge of the bed politely keeping the hand holding her thong out of sight.

"Hey," I reply as nonchalantly as possible.

"Thanks for letting me stay here last night. I really appreciate it."

"Sure, no problem."

"You know, I had the weirdest dream last night," she intoned sarcastically.

"Oh?" I said, playing along.

"Yeah. I dreamt I was having sex with my boyfriend. He was massaging me, toying with my pussy, and then he fucked me REALLY good from behind."

Adam must be her boyfriend then. "Is that so?"

"Mmm-hmm. It was pretty hot. I'm sorry if I got weird or moaned out loud in the night or anything..."

Not sure how to react to that, I just went with: "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

She rolled her eyes. "Anyway... I just wanted to check and make sure we're cool right?"

"Of course. Absolutely."

"Good. It must've been a pretty good dream, because I totally soiled my panties."

On cue, she offered up the evidence dangling her thong by the waistline on one finger in front of me. I could see could see the cloudy soiled gusset clearly in front of me. I said nothing.

Brandy continued, "Clearly I can't take these home with me. What would my boyfriend think if he saw these?"

"Uhh..."

"So I'll tell you what. Why don't you keep these," she said tossing her panties in my lap, "and we'll keep whatever happened last night strictly between us, ok?"

Who was I to argue with that?

"Sounds like a plan."

"Good. Now you just rest up and I'll get out of your hair. My cab is waiting downstairs."

She had already called a cab. Great. It was a relief to be so summarily untangled from whatever mischief we'd gotten ourselves into last night, but at the same time I was a bit chagrined to know I would likely never see her again.

"You didn't have to do that. I could've..."

"No, it's better this way," she interrupted. "Thank you so much for everything last night... and I do mean EVERYTHING. I had such a good time..."

I heard two distinct, impatient toots of a car horn outside.

"That's my ride!"

She got up, leaned over, and kissed me tenderly on the forehead. She looked me in the eye and gave me another one of her great smiles. Then she spun around, was out the door, and out of my life.

I looked down at my lap to the ragged blue thong. I picked it up and examined my handiwork. The mess wasn't anything a good washing couldn't cure, but I doubted that was the point. This was a memento to do with and savor however I pleased and a reminder of the crazy party girl who let me fuck her in her "sleep". Of course she had been awake the whole time. These panties were a token to let me know everything was okay.

I lifted them up to my nose and smiled.

#Raven #freckles #one night stand #Fucking #sleeping beauty #sleep sex #Pick up #his perspective #pick up artist

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julieunbroken · 5 months

Text

Resisting You - Tartaglia x Reader (Fem)

art credit : @umnume on twitter !!

You decided to visit Northland Bank in Liyue to deposit some Mora you've had for a while. You open the door and it still looks the same as you remember, such as the interior and the feeling you got from the place. "Good afternoon y/n, how have you been?" the receptionist smiles and gives you some extra Mora as a gift

"It's good to see you again" you respond. "I just wanna deposit some Mora I've saved for a while if that method is still allowed"

"Of course," "just give me a moment. While I'm busy, would you mind showing me the amount you have?" the receptionist turns away and you dig through your things to get it out. You had a lot in there and as you were counting all the Mora you had, it spilled all over the floor. "I'm so sorry I was just checking over how much Mora I had an-" you were interrupted by the 11th harbinger, who stared down at you confusingly.

"Need any help?" he asks you. You look startled, and as he reaches his hand out you zone out from looking at his hand, admiring how attractive he is with his veiny, strong hand. He keeps on asking if you're okay and you return to your regular state of mind. "S-sorry, I was just... zoning out..." you say while completely flustered, not knowing how to react.

"Haha, it's fine don't worry, most people are like that with me" "Anyway, I'm one of the 11 Fatui Harbingers, my actual name is Childe but I go by Tartaglia. So you can choose which name you wanna refer to me as." He winks at you.

You stand there in shock after he introduces himself and he walks off, you knew you couldn't resist his charm. Tartaglia had something in himself that stood out to you, you weren't sure what it was but you knew he had it. You deposit the mora and leave the bank, still flustered from that moment.

Time goes by and you're walking around Liyue, and you run into Tartaglia again.

"Oh hey, weren't you the person that I ran into at the bank?" Tartaglia asks.

"No yeah, it's me. Haha, once again I'm sorry about that, s-something happened..." You look away shyly, and he looks blankly at you. "No problem, it usually happens with every customer, not sure why." He says while looking around, he notices you staring at him while blushing. "Do you have a staring problem?" he asks in a bold tone.

"N-no? It's just... never mind." You stutter on your words. "It's fine, I like it," he mutters. "A-anyway, you wanna just take a stroll? I have nothing to do." Tartaglia asks, you're quite hesitant to say yes but you end up accepting anyway.

As you guys are walking around town talking about whatever comes to your mind Tartaglia seems to take a liking to you. He kept on asking more about you and wanted to know what you're actually like. "Hey y/n, would you like to come to my place for the rest of the day? Sorry if that's so sudden to ask... heh." He nervously asks. You were still hesitant to say yes but you thought it was nice of him to offer that so you accepted again.

You walk into his place and look around and never realize how much money he has. Tartaglia gives you a tour of what his rooms look like and you ask him where he got all this money from.

"Well, I can't say my source of income because it's... private business, the best way to word it. But I lied to my siblings and said that I owned a toy factory across Tevyat." He laughs.

"Oh okay, just asking." You laugh with him.

"Do you wanna come up to my room? It's quite interesting up there" Tartaglia asks you. "Alright, that's fine. I've been wanting to know what it looks like anyway."

Taraglia takes your hand and walks you up the stairs. "You're such a gentleman" you point out, "I know, y/n." He says and grabs you closer to him. "I know you can't resist me, don't deny it." He grabs your face and pins you to the wall. "I know we just met but that's not the point. You're all mine." He starts kissing you and drags you onto the bed.

"You're so cute." He starts kissing down towards your body and you put your legs around him. "Y/n, you're comfortable with me doing this right? I don't wanna do anything to hurt you." He looks up, "Yeah, I'm fine with it, trust me." You close your eyes and let him do his things. Tartaglia starts eating you out and you can't help but enjoy the pleasure.

"Y/n, don't hold in those moans, I wanna hear them. I want you to feel good while I lick your " He looks up at you again and you look away immediately. You start moaning loudly and he couldn't help but mention how cute they sound. As he finishes eating you out, he tells you to turn around and puts his massive cock inside of you.

"You like that don't you, huh?" Tartaglia thrusts into you harder.

"Do you want me to continue thrusting into your tight pussy y/n?" He let out a little moan and continued what he was doing. "Ah~ T-T-Tartaglia please... fuck me up~ it feels so good..." you moan louder and he begins to thrust even harder than before. "Ah, you're taking it so well y/n, aren't you? Ngh~" He smirks at you, watching you become vulnerable to his pleasure. "Ah~ ngh~" Tartaglia lets out a few whimpers. He cums inside you and you're left on the bed with your whole body shaking from how good it felt.

You enjoyed that moment so much and Tartaglia lies down next to you and held your hand, making sure that you were okay, after many hugs and kisses, you both fell asleep on his bed together.

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matthewtkachuk · 10 months

Text

one day all my love will come back to me

Spending a mid-degree gap year in the guest bedroom of your best friend who you’ve been in love with for ages seems to be a recipe for disaster until a hook up with a player from a visiting team threatens to change your future forever

pairing: nathan mackinnon x reader; brayden point x reader

warnings: creative liberties taken with the 2021-2022 regular season schedule and the availability/contributions of Brayden Point during the 2022 playoffs, typical angst associated with a love triangle with a hint of unrequited love, sexual themes (not quite smut but more than implied) and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc.)

word count: 10.9k

a/n: surprise @senditcolton i'm your summer exchange fic writer! i'm so so so sooooo sorry this is late, @wyattjohnston and i were having a hot girl european summer and it's not an excuse but a bit of an explanation. when i saw you had written brayden point twice in your players list, i knew it was time to dust off this fic idea i had last year and do her proper justice. i hope you like it!!! shout out to demi for the many "replace c with C" suggestions on google docs and @thomasschabot for the other suggestions. ok i'll shut up now, enjoy!!

The Avs are up by one with thirty seconds to go and you’re pretty sure you’re going to puke. It’s a good thing everyone is far too focused on the action going on at ice level to question why your gaze keeps bouncing between the good guys and a certain forward on the other team. It’s such a strange feeling—you want with your entire being for your boys to hoist the Cup, but there’s a small part of you that never wants to see the boy on the other team you care for so deeply, so upset. He was right, you both crossed the line past hooking up a long time ago.

“You look hot.”

In any other circumstance, those words from Nate would have your heart going into overdrive. As it stands, your heart is already pumping at a rate you fear is not healthy while you lie on a trampoline with your niece’s sprinkler set up beneath it. For every bitter complaint you’ve ever had about a Canadian winter, the opposing heat waves might just be slightly worse.

“A/C’s broken,” you say like that explains everything.

Nate hums in response like maybe it does before pulling himself up beside you.

Somehow the air around you feels even hotter, precipitation building at your hairline. You fuss for a minute, wiping away the sweat before dramatically slapping your hands down on the trampoline in protest.

Nate ignores you, choosing to instead cheerfully proclaim “This is nice!”

“What do you want?” you ask in response. There are layers to your grumpiness, but for now you can pretend it’s all related to the unbearable heat.

“Can’t a guy visit his best friend?”

You can feel his eyes on you, but you keep yours closed. “Not when it's 34 degrees out and humid as hell and he has to leave his air conditioned mansion to do so.”

“I saw your story and I was coming to invite you to my air conditioned mansion.”

“Is Sidney home?” Your tone is so much more nonchalant than you feel. It doesn’t matter that the aforementioned man went from Nate’s childhood hero to mentor to near-brother; it will never not be weird to have but one degree of separation from the man who’s name is on your town’s welcome sign.

Nate laughs like he can read your mind, but you still don’t glance over at him. You don’t need to, not really. The image of him beside you comes all too easily to your inner mind. His hair’s got a wave from the humidity, his nose tinged red from the hot sun, and his chest golden and chiseled and harlequin romance novel cover-esque—

“You know one day you’re going to have to get used to being around guys who made it to the show. Hell, I'm a guy who made it to the show.”

Finally you turn to look at him and he’s somehow even more beautiful than you’d just imagined. “That’s different Nate. You’re….you.”

He smiles at you and it’s brighter than the damn sun causing you so many problems today. “And Sid’s just Sid. And the guys in Denver are just the guys in Denver.”

His words have your nose scrunching and you promptly go back to laying flat on your back. “Don’t remind me.” There’s silence for a beat or two and then you continue, “Speaking of, are you sure it’s still okay—“

Nate doesn’t let you finish this time. “Yes, I’m sure it’s okay for you to hang around my apartment in Denver while you take a year off from school to figure out what you want to do.”

“Thanks Nate,” you reply and he hums in response. Abruptly you sit up, sliding a little from the slick trampoline surface. “Your A/C offer still standing too?”

He grins this time and you’re damn near blinded. “For you? Always.”

Sidney—Sid waves at you both from his kitchen when you pull up to Nate’s but that’s as far as it goes. Nate makes a joke about banana bread that you don’t quite get, mood souring considerably when you wonder aloud if he thinks Sidney will bring some over.

It’s all forgotten when the cold air hits you as you enter the lake house.

The summer passes by quickly without too much incident—just the nagging of your mother about your future and your own tiptoeing around the feelings you have for your friend.

On one of your and Nate’s last nights before leaving for Denver, your niece pulls him aside and sternly instructs him to bring home the Cup for her.

He laughs, but there’s something in his eye that says he means it when he says he will. That intensity doesn’t waiver, even as his gaze slides toward you. It has you thinking about a future by his side, celebrating those moments with him in a way so much greater than you do now.

The thought doesn’t leave you as you kiss your family goodbye, trying desperately to not let any tears shed at the thought of no longer being a small distance away. Nate’s constant near proximity and the promise of more of it takes away the sting a little, but you fall into your sister’s embrace that little bit more all the same.

Even as you do a final check of your things—two large suitcases, a carry-on and a backpack to house everything you’ll need for the next year—you think about it, of what it would be like to do this every year. What it would be like to pack with the intention of unpacking your things beside Nate’s in his closet. It’s silly, but sometimes you still feel like you’re fifteen years old, realizing you’re in love with your best friend as he goes away to the same hockey school as his idol.

Two flights full of self doubt and Nate sleeping on your shoulder later you’re convinced spending your impromptu gap year at his place is a bad idea. But then he’s smiling and ‘welcome home’-ing you and you step through the door.

Unemployment and a mid-twenties life crisis isn’t so bad from the guest bedroom of a lavish semi-detached in the suburbs of Denver. The bed’s softer than the one in your childhood bedroom. Bigger too. And the closet leading into the attached en-suite has no business being the size it is.

There are downsides of course. You are still unemployed and in the middle of a life crisis. Nathan is woefully unaware of your feelings and likely to never reciprocate. His teammates look at you like they know, though. And there’s the whole banning of any food that brings any modicum of enjoyment that you’re not entirely sure is serious or not.

The teammates that come around are kind to you when you’re around them enough to let them be. A small part of it is the intimidation of them being professional hockey players but they’re good guys and you’ve met many of them before. Really, it’s something more akin to the inherent uncomfortability of your predicament. It’s Nate’s house and you’re free-loading.

Of course he would argue differently if you voiced your thoughts and hang ups but that’s precisely why you don’t.

Nate may have never caught onto your feelings for him, but he’s not an oblivious person. That’s probably how you end up in the family box, being personally invited to brunch with the Better Halves by the best-half-in-charge herself, Mel Landeskog.

You find yourself nodding despite the anxiety of the possibility of making new friends, certain it’s less of an invitation and more of a demand.

She tells you as much, pressing a mimosa into your hand when you arrive at a cute restaurant and a table full of beautiful, predominantly blonde women. If Nate’s teammates were intimidating on a personal level, their wives and girlfriends are a whole other level. Never in your life have you been so surrounded by a group of women so put together—every outfit perfectly on point, every head of hair treated to an expensive blowout, every foundation shade perfectly matched or worse, no makeup needed.

It has you self-conscious, despite having spent ages picking out something to wear and trying to tame your hair into something presentable. The mimosa helps, and so do the compliments from Ashley Kadri. Little by little you open up, and by the end of brunch you have a killer buzz and a dozen new instagram followers and numbers in your phone.

When Nate picks you up, the bubbles have gone to your head. You spend the entire ride back to his place with the back of your head pressed to the passenger side window so that you can grin stupidly at his side profile.

“The girls are great,” you tell him with a silly giggle. His returning smile reeks of satisfaction of a job well done, but you don’t focus on it. “We’re gonna get dinner this week too!”

Although Mel takes you under her wing, it’s Heidy, Cale’s girlfriend who you instantly click with.

She’s every bit as beautiful and kind as the rest of them, but you connect with her on a different level. It’s almost like you’ve known her as long as you’ve known Nate. She shares your love of Taylor Swift and gets your jokes and is more than happy to let you bounce future career plans off her.

You can tell the girls have questions about your relationship with Nate, and truthfully they can get in line behind you. Sometimes, when you’re not careful, it almost feels like you’re not alone in how you feel. Sometimes it feels like you’re high school sweethearts, playing house on the precipice of a greater future.

Nate doesn’t help it himself though. It’s you he calls on long road trips, you he pulls into a giant hug outside the locker room before driving you both home after a game. You who is invited to WAG functions as a connection to him—both informally in a social context and more formally and broadly. Things like charity toy drives and the family box at games. A part of you fears the possibility of playoffs—especially with odds so clearly in the Avs favor—and what it would mean to be so publicly claimed as Nate’s while privately remaining the way you always have been.

It’s Heidy who you confide in. She’s always there to offer her ear, her shoulder, her opinion. And, although she encourages you to share your feelings, she also knows when to back off and let you do it when and if you’re ready.

You don’t think you’ll ever be ready.

With Christmas comes the Better Halves Christmas Tree Auction. It’s Mel’s favorite charity event of the season, she tells you gleefully.

“Every event is her favorite,” Suzanna says behind her back later.

Designated Favorite Human of the Avalanche Children is usually your favorite title, but it means you have one kid hanging off of you when the girls drop the bomb on you.

“So what are you thinking for your WAG tree?”

It’s an innocent enough question, especially when you think it’s aimed at one of the aforementioned WAGs in the family box. Only when there is no response do you look up and realize it’s meant for you instead.

“Sorry, what?”

“Your…Tree,” someone says slowly and you shake your head.

Your tone and words are almost as flustered as you are. “No I heard you. I’m just—What do you—Why are you asking me?”

“Well, Nate said…”

It all comes clear. Yet again, you’re expected to play the part. At great personal cost, mind you. It’s a mindfuck and a half, having to do all the things that you do for a man you love when it doesn’t mean anything.

Your thoughts are invaded with a tempestuous mixture of Nate and your relationship or lack thereof and yet another public acknowledgement.

Truly, you wonder if the others in the box pity you or laugh behind your back.

“C’mon,” Heidy says later, when the final buzzer sounds, cementing another win. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Nate’s,” you correct weakly.

She nods and repeats his name, grabbing your arm and leading you away.

You’re stewing in silence when Nate comes home.

“You okay?” he questions upon finding you in the living room, lit up only by the light filtering in through the large bay window.

The twitch of your eye is the only indication you’ve heard and recognized his words for a long moment. You can practically hear the gears whirring in his head, can feel the moment he’s about to speak again.

Not wanting to give him the opportunity, you ask, “Why?” His brows furrow and his head tits and so you continue. “Why did you say I would do your Better Half tree?”

“It’s for charity…You love charity work.” Nate visibly relaxes and you understand why. He’s not wrong, engaging in charity work has been a big part of why you’re not wallowing in self pity, but this isn’t just simple ‘charity work’ and you tell him as much.

“I love toy drives and helping at the soup kitchen and adoption events at the ASPCA. This is different, this is your WAG tree. It means something. It’s in your name, like I’m—I’m—“ you can’t bring yourself to say it.

“Everything you mentioned you do in my name.” He doesn’t seem to get it, frustrating you further.

“It’s not the same, Nate! All those other things I do as part of the larger group. It’s all facilitated by your team and your teammates ‘Better Halves.’ Their wives and girlfriends. They’ve all made me feel welcome, but I'm not one of them. This implies that I am one of them, but I’m not your girlfriend and certainly not your wife.”

“You basically are.” The phrase has your heart jumping into your throat. Of every daydream or fantasy you’ve ever allowed yourself to slip into, you never dreamed this would be how it all went down—“Without actually being my wife or girlfriend.”

“Right.” Your voice is short and clipped, masking the hurt quickly overtaking you. You won’t cry—you’re stronger than that. So strong in fact, that you lay down a firm boundary. “I won’t do it. Get Sidney to do it or something.”

“Okay,” he says slowly, pausing and then asking, “We’re good, right?”

“Yep.” You feign nonchalance and then wish him a good night.

The pillow holds all your tears and secrets.

The incident sticks with you, despite your many attempts to shake it off. Even Heidy can’t help. She tries anyway.

You’re not his.

But you are. You’re his and you have been for years now. Since he was leaving for school. Maybe even many years before that. Regardless of the true beginning, it doesn’t quite matter. What really matters is this: you’re not sure it will ever have an ending, but you’re almost certain if it does, it won’t be the one you want.

You’re his but he’s not yours.

Part of him is, sure, but you share that part with the other residents of Cole Harbour. The other part with the team and his teammates and their families, with the fans and the haters alike. The part you so desperately want to be yours has belonged to many a woman, but never to you.

It was a lot easier to live in the space between his childhood best friend and everything more when you were separated the majority of the year. A summer chock full of other things to do and focus your attention on to keep the longing at bay and enough distance for the rest of the year to forget how it feels to have him near without really having him.

One of Heidy’s distraction schemes involves hitting up downtown Denver a few nights later.

“But it’s Thursday,” you say when she shows up at Nate’s dressed up like she’s ready to hit the bar.

“I have tomorrow off and you don’t have a job, so,” she replies.

You frown, “Ouch.” She throws a look your way as if to not take it so personally and continues perusing your closet. “I’m not really feeling up to going out tonight.”

“Too damn bad,” she replies. “You can’t just sit here and wallow for the rest of your life.”

“Watch me,” you retort but start to get up anyway.

She smirks and tosses some clothes at you. “Get dressed and do something with your hair. I’ll do your makeup.”

“Where are you guys going all dressed up?” Nate questions when he spots the two of you in the foyer.

“Out.” Heidy is curt, a consequence of her not only being a good friend to you, but also her own awareness of his behavior.

His brows knit together but he soldiers on, “Do you want company?”

“Nope!” She’s much more cheerful now that she’s handed you your coat and bundled herself up. “Don’t wait up!”

Heidy drags you out to Cale’s car, where the man himself sits waiting. You instantly feel bad—between your protesting and actual time spent getting ready, he’d been sitting a while.

“Have you been here the whole time?” you ask as you get in the backseat. He shrugs with a rosy smile as Heidy pushes you in further and takes a seat beside you. After pressing a quick kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek over the center console, of course.

Cale doesn’t stick around after dropping you both off—a wave, a ‘be safe’, and ‘call me when you’re ready to go home’ and he’s gone.

You’re terrible company admittedly, mouth set in a deep frown that doesn’t crack even as you sip your drink. Heidy does most of the talking at first, blabbing away about everything and nothing. Until she sighs, slaps her hand down on the bar top and says, “You need to deal with this. Either you need to resolve things with Nate or you need to get over it, distract yourself with something or someone else.”

You nearly choke on the last of your drink. “Gee, Heidy, could you be any more subtle?”

“I’m worried about you.” She’s so earnest it tugs at your heart.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try. Really.”

She smiles, relaxing into the seat at the bar top.

Just then, the bartender sets another drink in front of you.

“I didn’t order another,” you state politely, attempting to hand back the drink.

The bartender shakes his head, motioning to the table in the corner as he speaks. “From someone at that table.”

It’s a group of athletic men, but only one is looking your way. He’s all intense eyes framed by intense eyebrows, but the look on his face doesn’t match the intensity. It’s…intriguing to say the least. Soft but confident, and definitely interested.

It’s not until one of the other men at the table elbows him that you realize they’re the team playing the Avs tomorrow night.

Quickly you spin back around and whisper to your friend, “Someone from the Tampa Bay Lightning just bought me a drink.”

Her eyes widen and she herself turns around quickly to get a glimpse of your admirer across the bar. You grab at her arm and bring her back to face the bar top.

“Heidy!” you hiss.

“Sorry!” she replies, “What are you going to do?”

You think about it for a second before throwing caution to the wind. Putting on your flirtiest smile, you turn around a lot more gracefully this time. Raising the gifted drink, you tilt it in a ‘Cheers’ motion before wrapping your lips around the straw for a sip. He responds with an identical gesture, although with an amber colored beer bottle instead.

Satisfied, you resume your earlier position while Heidy speaks.

“When I said you needed a distraction that is not what I meant!”

You roll your eyes. “It’s a drink, not a marriage proposal. Relax.”

She does, until you pull her out to the dance floor with eyes only for the man across the bar. Lucky for you—and less lucky for Heidy’s resting heart rate and blood pressure—he’s got eyes for you, too.

It only takes half a song for him to approach and introduce himself. “I’m Brayden.”

You smile and reciprocate, waiting a beat for Heidy to speak too, but she just tilts her nose up. An elbow to her side doesn’t get her speaking and so you introduce her, too.

One of Brayden’s eyebrows raise and you find yourself momentarily mesmerized by the action before quickly explaining, “Big Avalanche fans.”

He nods slowly once, then shrugs. “Maybe I can change that.”

“Doubtful,” she says under her breath, but if you heard it, you imagine Brayden did too.

She doesn’t thaw any, even as the song changes. Nor does she get the hint to take herself elsewhere and so you rather pointedly ask if she can go get you both another round.

Heidy isn’t even able to get out whatever she was ready to grumble before Brayden is offering, pausing to ask what Heidy is drinking. She begrudgingly tells him and he disappears.

“Seriously? You could have any guy here and that’s who you go for?” she asks.

You shrug, “He’s the one I want.”

She softens at your earnest tone. “Okay.”

“Call Cale,” you tell her. “Go curl up on the couch and watch TV together or whatever you would have done if you weren’t worrying about me.”

“I don’t know…”

“Go. I’ll be fine. And I’ll text you if I need you,” you confirm.

She sighs. “I’m waiting for my drink first.”

You laugh and pull her into a side hug. “Love you.”

True to her word, she finishes the drink Brayden brings her—even managing a ‘thank you!’—before slipping off into the crowd and, you imagine, into her boyfriend’s car.

Brayden looks a little concerned at her rapid exit. “Did I do something to make her leave?”

“Besides playing for the wrong team? Nah.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but the concern fades when you wrap your arms around his neck.

It’s all but gone when you press your lips to his.

You dance for another few songs and another drink before your inhibitions are just low enough to drag him in the direction of the bathrooms.

The men’s is empty when you enter, and so you flip the lock on the door and press yourself against him.

He reciprocates, crowding you against the door with his mouth hot on yours.

Your whole body lights up at his touch, coming alive beneath his fingertips. There are no thoughts of Nate or the predicament you’ve found yourself in, just Brayden.

His hands are curved around your jaw, and your leg is wrapped around his waist when he pulls away. “Wait...wait.”

“You don’t want…?” You’re not drunk, just a little bit more sensitive to rejection than you usually would be.

“No that’s—That’s not it at all. I want you, like, really want you.” He kisses you, and as good as his touch feels, being wanted feels that extra bit more. “Not like this. Not here.”

Truthfully, you’ve never been the kind of girl who lets someone hit and quit in a bar bathroom before. Or anywhere really. A part of you that you thought was long buried stirs inside of you and you realize for the first time in a long time you’re feeling something for a man who isn’t your best friend.

Your best friend. Shit. “I have a kind of odd living situation right now, my place isn’t an option.”

“Your parents?”

You bark out a laugh that he immediately covers with his mouth. “No, they’re back in Canada.”

“Your husband? Your boyfriend?” He’s joking, but you can’t help but get the sense there’s an ounce of worry that he’s right. It’s such an inconceivable notion that Nate could ever be either to you that you laugh again.

“No, I just live with a friend who probably won’t be understanding about a strange man in their house.”

Brayden visibly relaxes, pauses, and then says, “I have a hotel room…you’ll have to be quiet though.”

“I can be quiet,” you reply, barely hiding your smirk.

You try your best, really give it your best effort, but no one has ever touched you like he does.

Nate doesn’t cross your mind once.

You sneak out early in the morning, determined to not have a semi-public walk of shame in front of an entire hockey team. It’s almost a success until you run into his captain in the lobby. Feeling your face grow hot, you give him a little nod and escape to the waiting Uber. You can only hope he doesn’t get too much shit, telling him as much using the newest number in your phone.

You’re not nearly as lucky, facing the firing squad that is Nate as you slip into the entryway. It shouldn’t be a surprise to see your best friend awaiting your arrival, if the several messages that popped up when you’d finally opened your phone to send the aforementioned text to Brayden were any indication.

“Where have you been?” he asks and you have to keep from rolling your eyes.

“Out,” you say, calling back to Heidy’s response last night but he doesn’t accept it as easily coming from you.

“All night?” he continues the interrogation.

“I crashed at Heidy’s last night, what’s with the fifth degree, Dad?”

He looks like he was waiting for this moment as he replies, “No you didn’t, I talked to Cale.”

This time you do roll your eyes. “It’s none of your business, Nate.”

“It is my business if you’re under my roof,” he says, doing his best impression of your father for real this time.

You know it’s not his intention, but your stomach drops all the same. The old feeling of guilt and shame and failure floods your veins, and you can tell he notices.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just worried and you didn’t answer my messages.”

“I know,” you say but the words taste bitter in your mouth. “I’m going to go get some more sleep. See you later.”

He repeats the words back at you, but you’re more focused on the buzzing phone in your pocket.

Safe in Nate’s guest bedroom, you slip into something more comfortable, get beneath the covers and open your messages.

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Got fined

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Probably going to get chirped for a month

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Worth it though

You: I would tell you I’m sorry but I’m not

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Me either

If you thought that was the beginning and the end of Brayden you would be sorely mistaken.

Long distance flirting becomes a long distance hook up becomes him flying you out to see him. Any time you protested the latter, you’d find a non-refundable ticket in your email and a ‘please’ in your text messages.

Fall fades into Winter and Bar Guy 💙🤍 turns to Brayden turns to B 💙. As your feelings for him grow, you find thoughts of Nate as anything other than someone-you-grew-up-with fade.

You come clean about the ‘friend you live with’ being Nathan MacKinnon before the first time you fly down to see him, worried that your lie by omission might be a dealbreaker. Brayden only laughs, he figured Heidy’s hostility was more than just motivated by more than sports team loyalty.

The thing about Brayden is he never makes you feel bad about Nate. He is understanding and gracious, never demanding, never unreasonable. A small part of you sometimes thinks about how if the roles were reversed, you don’t think Nate would be quite the same.

Initially unsupportive and apprehensive, Heidy comes around, although her persistence turns from telling Nate how you feel to telling Nate about Brayden. You don’t do either, and she keeps your secrets.

Nate being selected for the All Star Game in Vegas while Brayden isn’t brings a unique opportunity for a week straight in hot, sunny Florida. The chill of Denver isn’t quite as biting as back home, but you’re excited to escape it all the same.

He doesn’t ask you to join him in Vegas, but you do wonder if he thought he didn’t need to.

It doesn’t matter either way, when an errant high stick in overtime breaks his nose and dashes his All Star dreams.

Your first thought upon seeing him bloody and disoriented on the ice is that there is no way you can go to Florida.

It probably looks much worse than it is, the girls try to reassure you in the box, but you’re not convinced.

Nate’s reassurances later don’t do much either. Not with his face puffy and bruised and some dried blood on his chin.

It’s not until he assures you that his mom and sister will be coming down to Denver since they had the time off anyway that you decide for sure you will go.

The day you leave for the airport, his pathetic form on the couch is almost enough to have you last minute cancelling on Brayden.

Nate all but demands you don’t miss out on his account, asking that you ‘be safe’ and ‘have fun’.

In return you hit him with a ‘thanks Dad’ and ‘take it easy’ despite knowing just by virtue of who he is as a person he will be doing the exact opposite.

Thoughts of Nate, broken and bruised, haunt you the entire journey. They don’t fade until you’re in Brayden’s arms. Even then, it’s a dull ache that you do your best to ignore.

Evidently you don’t do a very good job of hiding it, or maybe Brayden just knows you better than you think, because he catches on before you’ve even reached his place.

“You okay?” he asks, gently squeezing your knee where his hand rests.

Turning to look at his side profile, so earnest and sweet, you don’t even think of lying.

“I’m worried about Nate.”

“I get that,” he says and you wonder if he truly does. “I’m glad you’re here with me though.”

Smiling at him, you are too, and so you try to push down the guilt and focus your attention on the man you’re with.

You check on Nate periodically throughout the week, never getting much more than a thumbs up emoji, but at least you know he’s alive.

Brayden wines and dines and, well, you know the rest of the rhyme.

By the time the week is up, you don’t want to leave. It’s strange how meeting one person can change things so drastically. Before Brayden, you would never have dreamed of spending a week with another man when Nate was injured and possibly may have needed you.

It also puts things into perspective for you.

Really emphasizes how much additional emotional labor you put in—and were expected to—in your relationship with Nate. The lines and boundaries had long since blurred, and it took dedicating your time and energy to another man to see it.

If Nate notices the way you pull back even further when you return, he doesn’t say anything about it.

Falling for Brayden is easy. It’s a gentle float down to the ground, landing among a field of flowers to catch your fall. A stark contrast to the free fall of being pushed from an airplane at 10,000 feet by Nate.

Where Nate’s sharp edges have cut you time and time and time again, Brayden’s curves wrap around you and hold you tight.

When you’re not physically with him, you’re texting and calling, and when you’re not doing that you’re thinking about him.

Neither of you make any move to define the relationship further, but it doesn’t sting like the years of being strung along by Nate did. It’s probably because while no words have been exchanged to that effect, Brayden lets you feel how much he cares for you.

You’re nearly found out late in the regular season.

Something about Tampa has started to feel familiar and safe—you try not to think about exactly why that is—and so, despite the knowledge that the boys are in town, too, you’re not as careful as you should be.

There’s an ice cream spot near Brayden’s that you’ve taken to frequenting. As a consequence, it’s also near the arena.

Because it’s so close, you decide to walk there, teasing him the whole way about how one ice cream cone won’t derail his nutrition plan. He’s arguing back, but you know it’s in vain because his sweet tooth and the lilt of your voice will win in the end.

Your hands naturally brush as a result of your close proximity and you take the opportunity to link your pinkies. He smiles softly and you walk in silence for a minute until he breaks it.

“You really won’t let me give you my jersey?” It’s a question that has come up before, but every time it does you wonder if it’s a little bit more serious of an ask than the last.

“I’d rather die. Maybe if you were a better hockey player,” you tease, jumping back to avoid his grasp.

He gasps playfully, thick eyebrows raising with his wide eyes. “Take that back right now.” He takes a step closer to you but you dodge his advances, sliding to the other side of the bench.

“Sorry baby, you know I bleed blue and maroon. Wouldn’t be caught dead in traitor blue.” Not to mention you’d never ever hear the end of it from the boys if someone saw you in it.

He fakes left and you fall for it, giggling madly as he wraps you up in his arms and scrapes his beard against your cheek. “What about just for me?” he asks, kissing your neck once and then nipping at it with his teeth before pulling back to look into your eyes. “In my bed with nothing else on?”

It’s like the already beautiful temperature rises even higher when he presses his mouth to yours. You give in quickly, pressing onto the tips of your toes to get even closer. It turns dirty quickly, his tongue in your mouth and his fingers buried deep in your hair.

And then a familiar voice calls your name.

You pull from Brayden like you’ve been burnt, a look of pure panic crossing your face as you realize you know the body attached to the voice.

It’s JT and he looks like been standing there long enough to figure out what’s going on.

“JT—“ you start to explain, but pause. There is no easy, simple explanation. There are months and months, hell years and years, of backstory and layers to even get to this point.

“I thought—“ He appears to change his mind, stopping his thought mid sentence and switching to a question. “What’s going on here?”

“Brayden and I are, well, we’re.” It’s a struggle to explain what you are to one of Nate’s teammates when you haven’t had this conversation in full with the man beside you. Finally, you land on “We’re together.”

You don’t look over at Brayden to see his reaction.

“How long?” is the natural follow up.

It’s another tough question, but you decide to go with the first time you met and slept together. “Before Christmas.”

“Does Nate know?” he asks. The wild look in your eyes must give you away because he signs and says your name. “You have to tell him.”

You get that, really you do. But at the same time it’s your business what you do and who you do it with, not Nate’s. At the same time, you know it would be a really shit thing for him to find out through someone who isn’t you.

Beyond that, you’re pretty sure right before playoffs isn’t the right time to have that conversation and you tell JT as much. “I know, I will. After the season I’ll tell everyone.”

JT looks less than convinced.

“You know Nate, it wouldn’t do anyone any good while the season is still going on. Please, you can’t tell him.”

JT might be as aware as you are of who Nate is as a person, and he’s certainly more aware of who Nate is as a hockey player and so he agrees despite his clear hesitance. “Promise me, after the season.”

“I promise.”

When he’s gone, Brayden finally speaks up. “You want to go public with us?”

You worry you’ve said the wrong thing, starting to babble about how you’re sorry the conversation didn’t occur privately first, and how you don’t need to go public if it’s not something he wants to do when he silences you with a kiss.

“I want to tell everyone,” he says earnestly and you kiss him again.

JT thankfully keeps his word.

Nate doesn’t watch any other team in the playoffs.

It makes trying to catch Brayden’s games tough, sneaking out to sports bars, watching games on your phone in Nate’s guest room, even flying out to watch a couple home games during the run.

The only supportive merch you sport is a necklace with his number, and on occasion a little blue and white lacy number under your clothes. You’re not offered a WAG jacket—whether that’s due to Brayden knowing well enough you don’t want to be that public or because your reaction to the style of jacket itself was less than positive.

In the back of your mind you recognize there’s a chance it could come down to the teams of the boys you care for most; one Eastern Conference, one Western Conference.

Selfishly, when the first round between the Bolts and the Leafs goes to seven, part of you hopes for it to end right there. Most of you is glad they push through.

On Colorado’s side of the playoff bracket, they absolutely rip through everyone who stands in their way.

You are offered a jacket with Nate’s name and number in glitter, but you turn it down in favor of a lucky baseball cap, though you do accept an unpersonalized crop from Madison.

Some of the girls decide to travel for the away games. You have to turn them down because there are already tickets with your name on them to see Brayden. There’s no way you can—or would—miss any Avs home games, and so instead you end up being one of a handful of supporters in the likes of Toronto, Miami and New York.

It’s a difficult balancing act as the playoffs progress in both teams’ favor.

And then your worst nightmare comes true. The quest for the Cup comes down to your… whatever Brayden is to you and to Nate and the team you’ve supported since he was drafted and all the other people who have come to feel like family.

Whispering to Brayden in the dark of night before the Finals begin, you tell him, “You know I support you, but…”

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, even though he has no reason to match your tone all alone in his home in Tampa. “I get it. As long as you still like me, you can like them a little bit more.”

You giggle, “It’s got nothing to do with liking you, you dolt.”

“Bolt,” he corrects, and even though you can’t see him you know he’s smiling.

“Oh my God, shut up.” You don’t mean it literally but he’s quiet for a second too long. “No matter what happens I’m proud of you.”

For two people who have never properly defined nor publicized their relationship, it might be too heavy of a moment, but his quiet thank you is laced with emotion.

“Go to bed,” you say after another few beats of silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The first two games are in Colorado, and the boys take both at home.

“Ain’t over til it’s over,” is both of your boys’ philosophy after the first two.

Nate is positively buzzing, especially after so decisively winning the second, but still cautious—very aware of how quickly a 2-0 lead can turn into the end of the line and empty hands.

Brayden is also cautious, and this isn’t his first or even second rodeo at the Cup final in as many years. You try to kiss it better in a random hallway in the bowels of Ball Arena.

Finally accepting the Better Halves’ invitation to travel to road games, you have a good seat to Tampa taking back some momentum in game three before promptly handing it back to Colorado.

You die and come back to life a dozen times in game four as Brayden and his team hold on.

Game five is to be played back in Tampa, and you spend the night before the game in Brayden’s bed instead of the hotel Nate has paid for. “Good luck,” you whisper against his lips early in the morning before you leave to meet the girls for breakfast.

“You don’t mean that,” he teases, stretching out in such a way that has you considering skipping breakfast—certain teasing and interrogation be damned.

“Good luck to you,” you amend, kissing him once more. “Your team can rot.”

His laughter rings in your ears as you leave.

Mel corners you after breakfast, a familiar offending piece of clothing in her hands. “This could be it,” she explains, offering you the jean jacket.

If it were any year previous, you might have worn it. If you didn’t have Brayden, you might have worn it. If Nate had offered it to you himself alongside a confession, you might have worn it.

None of these things are true, and so you decline. “I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

Her smile has a twinge of sadness and understanding as she replies, “Okay.”

Sitting alongside the girls in the box with your cropped sweater hiding the 21 necklace around your neck, you’ve never felt more torn.

Brayden’s captain nets one early in the first, and you’re not sure you breathe again until Nate’s powerplay evens the score early in the second. There’s an undercurrent of excitement in the box alongside the nervous energy. Midway through the second, Arturri tips it in and Amalie Arena is silent.

It stays like that for the rest of the period until you excuse yourself to grab a drink at intermission. Standing in the long drink line, you spot a little girl in a Point jersey and your stomach twists as you think about how no matter which way this ends, someone you care for will be hurt.

That feeling doesn’t leave as you sit through a scoreless third period. The arena gets loud with Bolts fans throughout, celebrating every blocked shot and turnover. That intensity picks up in the dying seconds of the game as Brayden picks off the puck in the defensive zone.

He rushes up the ice flanked by his linemates, but is momentarily stopped by Cale.

He gets his stick back on the puck and your nails dig into the leather arm of the box seat. Suzanna grabs your hand, assuming it’s worry for her boyfriend and his teammates and you let her think that and hold your hand.

Three seconds.

Two seconds.

He shoots right as the buzzer sounds and Darcy gloves it down like there was never a question of him stopping it.

The entire box explodes in a chorus of cheers—there’s shouting, swearing, crying, laughter and you’re right in the middle of them all. Your boys are Stanley Cup Champions.

Someone grabs you, and then someone else joins in and suddenly you’re in the middle of a dog pile. “They fucking did it!”

You’re so fucking excited, incredibly proud and honestly a little weepy about your favorite people finally getting their hands on their childhood dream. But, a bigger part of the organ in your chest than you want to admit aches for the downturn of Brayden’s head as he skates back to the bench.

An attendant appears and wrangles the rowdy bunch down to the ice. You’ve got Linnea Landeskog in your arms and a giant grin on your face as your feet touch the ice.

“Down please,” she politely states while trying to wriggle out of your grasp. The second she’s down she’s running at her daddy who sweeps her up in his arms.

And then Nate’s on you in a way that you used to long for when you were younger. He’s red and sweaty and out of breath but none of these things stop him from hauling you up into his arms and spinning you until you smack at his chest, demanding to be let down much like Linnea only minutes ago.

He stops spinning but he doesn’t let go, staring up at you with a look he’s never given you before. You’re so caught up in the excitement of it all you barely notice, grabbing his cheeks and shouting in his face, “You fucking did it!”

“We fucking did,” he says like he can’t believe this moment is happening—whether that’s due to you in his arms or the Cup that will now bear his name no one can really say. He kind of looks like he’s about to do something stupid, leaning in ever so slightly, and so you finally succeed at leaving his arms, slipping slightly as you reach the ice once again. Brayden is watching from across the ice, a sad look on his face that you just want to kiss off. You don’t though, just pat Nate on the back once and continue moving, throwing yourself at Cale, then Burky, then Mikko.

It’s a blur of celebrations and photos with the Cup—you even let Linnea convince you to take a photo with her and the Cup, her mom remarking that it looks good on you. When you pull from your photo pose, you give her a questioning look. “A baby and a cup,” she smirks, blatantly looking over at Nate who seems to agree.

You laugh nervously—last year that was all you wanted, the boys to win and Nate to want you in that way. Now? Now you can picture it still, you just picture it with someone else.

Finally, you’re able to sneak away and Brayden has the same idea, telling you to meet him in a closet by the locker room. No words are exchanged as he pulls you in by your hips and kisses you like he needs it to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him and you mean it.

A crinkle forms between his eyes. “No you’re not.”

You kiss him again once, “I’m not sorry the boys won tonight, but I am sorry it was against you.”

“There’s always next year.” It’s far more flippant than you had anticipated, really you thought you’d be dealing with an upset Brayden and that might have broken your heart.

“I thought you’d be more upset.”

“Can’t win ‘em all,” he says and you give him a look to be serious. “So what, we didn’t win the Cup this season. I got you, didn’t I?”

“Fuck off, dont be stupid.” Your cheeks are hot and your eyes are wild.

“I mean it. I’d take you over the Cup nine times out of ten.”

“What about the other one?”

“Need to win another one for us to put our future babies in.”

“Awfully presumptuous for a hook up.”

“This is so much more than a hook up.”

“Yeah,” you admit, sinking deeply into another kiss.

“Besides,” he pauses, “Already got two rings.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Okay I gotta go. Will you come get me later?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid to ask, like he’d go into the pits of hell itself for you without hesitation. “Of course. Now go. Celebrate. I’ll see you later.”

You slip out first, making sure the coast is clear and go find the others. A Stanley Cup Champion hat is placed upon your head and a bottle of champagne in your hand. There’s a celebration in the visitor locker room and then the party moves to a local bar.

Someone shells out the money for a few bottles of vintage Dom Perignon that you indulge in, but mostly you just relish in the happiness of everyone around you. If you’re honest, you spend a fair amount of time avoiding Nate who has a serious look every time you catch him staring.

Shortly before midnight, you slip out of the bar and into Brayden’s waiting car. The bubbly must have gone to your head, because you forgo any verbal greeting in favor of launching yourself over the center console to press your lips to his.

He pulls away and very somberly states, “I can’t take you seriously in that sweater.”

Looking down, you spot the Avalanche crop and laugh as you pull it off and toss it in the back. “Better?”

He hums, fingertip tracing the chain around your neck from your clavicle down between your breasts to reveal his number on the pendant. “Much.”

You sink back into another kiss before remembering where you are, who you’re with and what you’re doing meanwhile the bar you just left is crawling with people you’re not quite ready to come clean to just yet.

“Take me home, Bray,” you say as you relax back into the passenger seat.

You don’t have the power to bring your lover the Stanley Cup your friends were just drinking out of. All you have to offer is yourself, but he accepts it with as much gratitude as your best friend accepted the Cup earlier.

Later, he looks like he wants to ask you to stay, and you think you look like you want him to.

In the end, it doesn’t matter as you fall asleep next to him and somehow make it back to your hotel room in the morning with no one the wiser.

Nate spends a few more weeks in Denver after the win, celebrating with the guys and riding the high of winning it all. You only spend a couple days and then move out of his house and back into your parents.

You don’t tell him about Brayden, content to let Nate enjoy his successes.

As a consequence, you don’t see much of him in July or August. Even when you’re both home, he’s busy with all his other friends and his family, and you’re busy with your niece and deciding on what to do in the fall. You’ve determined the best course of action is to finish your degree and then apply to a masters program in order to change your career path.

The choice, then, is where to do so. You can stay at home, commute an hour each way into the city—supported by your hometown friends and your family. Or you can make the shift to Denver for real, with your found family and with Nate. Or…

The University of Tampa Bay has an excellent program. You know from your time visiting Brayden through the season that the university is right around the corner from Amalie Arena and Brayden’s. It’s awfully presumptuous, but you find yourself daydreaming about the possibility much like you used to daydream about a future in Denver.

Of course, there’s an entire continent of possibilities, hell an entire world of possibilities, but these are the three most attractive options.

There are many discussions to be had, and choices to be made. You don’t want to do either until you’ve had a chance to speak to Brayden in person, but just as Nate’s had a busy summer, so too has he.

He messages you every morning before and after working out while you’re still asleep. Every conversation eventually devolves into some combination of ‘I miss you’ and ‘when can I see you?’

You do manage to spend a few days with him in the Rockies mid-July that fly by far too quickly. Every time you leave Brayden it gets harder and the implications of it all have your stomach in knots when the thought crosses your mind.

It all comes to a head spectacularly the day before Nate’s day with the Cup. You’re at Nate’s, helping to prepare for the post-parade celebration when you’re called away by his sister. She wants your help deciding on which photos to display—it’s a mixture of past and present alongside an elementary school assignment two decades old wherein Nate declared his future profession would be ‘Stanley Cup Champion.’

You’re smiling, lost in the memories when Nate comes crashing into the room you’re in. There’s an indiscernible look on his face, but it reads somewhere between anger, frustration and hurt. The look on your face betrays your confusion, and it only deepens when you see your phone in his hands.

“What are you doing with my phone?” you ask.

His jaw ticks. “Thought it was mine.”

It doesn’t really do anything for your confusion. If anything, it deepens it. “What’s your problem Nate?”

“This! This is my problem.” He finally cracks, shoving your phone in your face to reveal messages from Brayden—under the contact name of the letter B and a heart—wondering when you plan on making the trip to Calgary to see him. Your stomach drops and your heart feels like it’s at risk of falling right out your chest. It was always going to come out, but especially as you crossed the line between sharing body heat with Brayden and sharing your secrets, hopes and dreams.

That being said, it is a shit way for your relationship to come to light for sure, but you can’t help but feel your friend is overreacting. Sarah is looking between the two of you, panicked and frozen like she doesn’t know what to do.

“I think your mom could use some help in the backyard, Sar,” you say gently, and she gladly takes the opportunity to flee. Once she’s gone, you turn on Nate. “I’m sorry that you found out this way, but you had no right to come in here like that. Poor Sarah looked terrified!”

He looks at you incredulously. Now that his sister is out of ear shot, he appears to have allowed himself to lean into his emotions a little more. “I have no right? What about you? Hooking up with some random guy in Calgary? Is that where you’ve been running off to these past few months?”

You know that this is probably the least important part of his rant, but you feel the need to clarify. “He’s not just some guy, Nate. His name is Brayden. And for the record, no. I wasn’t in Calgary, I was in Tampa.

He looks confused in addition to enraged, and so you put the pieces together for him. “I’ve been seeing Brayden Point.”

“You’ve been sleeping with the enemy?”

“Are you joking?”

This is not your friend Nate. This is some angry being inhabiting the body of your friend Nate.

He doesn’t back down. “It was between us and them in the final, pretty sure that qualifies as the enemy!” He pauses for a second and then continues, “How long have you been sleeping with him? During the final? Were you rooting for him instead?”

“Nate—“

“No, don’t Nate me. I bet you were, I bet you wanted them to win, him to win. I bet you were sitting there in the family box, using tickets I paid for, against me the whole time.”

“That’s not fair!” you try to interject, despite the tiny grain of truth to his words. It would be untrue to say some small part of you wanted Brayden to succeed, but your loyalties have always been with Nate and his team.

“Don’t bother. I wouldn’t trust a thing you said right now. Not after this. Not when you know.”

“Know what?” you question.

“How I feel! About you. And me.” The blurred edges start to come into focus. He’s been acting like a man scorned, because in his eyes he is one.

Unable to form any coherent thought, you repeat yourself from earlier. “Are you joking?”

He’s less angry now, slipping further into the hurt brewing under the surface. “It’s always been us. Since we were kids. And now you’re messing around with some guy on another team. I can't believe you!”

The tears start to pool at your waterline, but you’re too stubborn to let them fall. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You string me along for years and years and years, expecting me to play the part of your girlfriend without being your girlfriend and to wait around for you to figure it out. I am sorry you found out like this, but I’m not sorry about him. I’m not sorry about Brayden.”

He flinches at the sound of Brayden’s name, the anger clouding his eyes even further. “You want him so bad, why don’t you go to him right now?”

“Nate—“ You’re not sure he knows what he’s saying, what the implications of all he’s said really are. What it would mean if you left for Calgary this afternoon. What it would be like if you weren’t there tomorrow to join in his celebrations.

“Go.” When you don’t move he speaks again. “Get out of here.”

He hasn’t raised his fists or even his voice, but you do as he suggests. Calmly, begging the tears not to fall, you walk right out of his house and get in your car and you drive.

Brayden picks up when you call while driving, and there’s a ticket in your inbox before you’ve even made it home.

A short layover in Toronto—and with nothing but the clothes on your back and a small carry- on—later, you’re sinking into Brayden’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but you shake your head where it’s buried in his chest.

“Thank you,” you say, leaving hundreds of words unspoken in your gratitude.

The kiss he pressed to your lips and the way he says ‘Anything for you’ tells you that he understands.

He’s got his own place in an affluent suburb of the city, and you’re grateful for the fact that you won’t have to see anyone else with your puffy, bloodshot eyes.

The last time you’d cried this hard, it had been over the loss of your childhood dog. Nate had been there then, flying in after a late game to hold you while you cried. Maybe you had misunderstood his feelings for you, missed the signs he thought he had laid out so clearly. Maybe that would have mattered a year ago.

It doesn’t, now.

Not when Brayden’s arms feel like home. His warm gaze feels like the sun. His kiss and his touch feel like heaven on earth. His love feels like everything you’ve ever wanted.

Your world nearly stopped in Nate’s living room, but it resumed spinning here in Brayden’s bedroom.

You’re curled up on his chest while he soothingly runs a hand along your spine when you tell him. “I love you.”

His hand stills on the middle of your back, but you don’t panic. Your mind and heart are clear and in unison. He doesn’t make you wait long, cupping the back of your head and tilting your head back ever so slightly so that your eyes meet.

“Yeah?” he asks like maybe he needs the validation.

“Yeah,” you reply, giving it to him.

The grin on his face might be worth everything you’ve been through.

You squeal as he flips the both of you, ending in a position where his arms bracket either side of your head in order to keep from crushing you with his full weight.

“I love you,” he repeats, kissing every inch of your exposed skin.

Tangling your fingertips in the hair at the nape of his neck, you say it again and again and again. It’s a chant and a ritual, told between sighs and moans and whimpers. He strips you of your clothes, taking you apart piece by piece and then putting them all back together.

It is intimate and sweet as he takes you to the highest peak, hearts and limbs and minds all intertwined. There is no doubt, no insecurity, no hesitation. All of the love you have to give is reflected back at you. You and Brayden are two sides of the same coin, destiny and fate and all the good forces in the world have brought the two of you together.

That’s why when, in the dark of his room later, you say yes when he asks you to move in.

Despite the apparent suddenness, your family is more than supportive of you and Brayden. Though that may be because he charmed the pants off all of them the following week when returning to your childhood bedroom to pack your things.

Your niece is delighted when she learns that Brayden’s “job is hockey!” as she so sweetly declares, requesting he win her a Cup too.

It reminds you of Nate and how you haven’t heard from him. You don’t reach out either.

Your time in Calgary is short, punctuated by the bittersweet news that although many of your credits will transfer over, you’re not able to start college classes at the University of Tampa until the second semester.

“Now you can come with me on all my road games,” Brayden says when you tell him.

“Fat chance.”

Training camp sneaks up on you both and before you know it, you’re making the permanent move into Brayden’s bedroom and his life, publicly this time.

The Tampa WAGs are sweet and welcoming, but you find yourself missing the Colorado Better Halves. That’s probably why you agree to dinner with Heidy the first time in the season that the Avs are in town.

You make plans to meet at a cute spot downtown near the arena.

The minute you spot Nate waiting outside, you start to turn around. Not so much as an Instagram like since the day before his day with the Cup and now he’s at one of your favorite restaurants in Tampa like everything is okay?

“Wait,” he says and for some reason you do, pausing mid turn. “I’m sorry.”

That’s enough to have you turning back around to look him in the eye as you scold him. “Really? I haven’t heard a word from you in months and that’s what you have to say?”

“I know,” he says.

“You were really shitty Nate! You knew how I felt and apparently felt the same way, but you just took advantage of me and my feelings for you for years! And then, you made me feel like trash for falling for someone else.”

“I know,” he says again.

“Can you say literally anything other than I know?” you say exasperatedly.

“I—“ he starts and stops with the look you give him. “I don’t have a good explanation for the first bit. You’re right, I’ve been taking you for granted for a long time. I don’t know, I guess I was just scared to lose you if we ever crossed that line.”

“I get that,” you reply. “Why do you think I never said anything either? I’m less mad about that and more mad about you being a giant asshole about me meeting someone.”

He nods. “I know. I was jealous and hurt and I lashed out and hurt you too. I never meant for it to get like this, but the longer it took for me to reach out and apologize the harder it seemed. I am really sorry, and I’m happy you found someone who treats you the way you deserve.”

It’s a sincere apology and one you’re certain he means. Beyond that, you just miss your best friend and so you throw yourself at him in a big hug. He’s startled, but very quickly wraps his arms around you too.

“Things aren’t magically okay, you really hurt me, but you’re my best friend and I’ve missed you so much. There’s been a million times where something happened and I wanted to tell you about it, but couldn’t.”

“You’re my best friend,” he says.

Nate scores a goal during the second period of the game but it’s not enough for the Avalanche.

Brayden comes home the clear winner to find you curled up in his bed. First he undresses and then he slips into bed beside you.

“Glad you made up with Nate,” he says, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Glad you won,” you reply, feeling the way his lips curve in a smile against your neck and knowing he’s about to say something stupid and cringe.

“In more ways than one, baby,” he laughs, caging you in with his arm as you struggle to get away from him and his bad jokes. “In more ways than one.”

Despite the way you playfully try to escape his clutches, the truth is you feel like you’re the real winner.

#nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nathan mackinnon fic #brayden point fic #shelb writes

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heythrrdelilah · 4 months

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Summary: New York City life gets a little lonely until you have too many choices

Pairings: timothee chalamet x F!reader, Austin Bütlér x F!reader

Warnings: honestly expect pure filth. Mmf but the males are straight and don't interact

Word count: 2,925

Authors note: it's been a while and this may or may not be loosely based on a random detailed dream I had the night before last also please know I'm not usually a smut writer and it's been ages so bare with me please

The dim lit bar was roaring with voices as the rush hour for bars came. You regretted letting your friend talk you into coming out. You would much rather be sitting on your couch with a fantasy novel and a cup of lavender tea, but your best friend and roommate was persistent. “See! Lavender vodka cocktails! I told you you could still get lavender tea!” She pulled you by your wrist to the bar. This was one of the many popular bars in New York so you had to squeeze between shoulders to even reach the counter. “You know it's not the same thing, right? It's important for me to know that you know that,” you questioned your friend with a brow raised, she threw her hair over one shoulder and rolled her eyes. Instead of responding she just ordered a lavender vodka lemonade for you and a planters punch for herself.

“Just don't leave me tonight. I didn't feel like coming but if you leave me alone this is the last time,” you sternly state as you wait for your drinks. After people had their orders in, the crowd around the bar became smaller and people were now gathered around tables and leather couches. The bar theme was modern chic. Crystal dim lighting, black leather couches around marble tables. You and your roommate definitely could not afford to drink here, especially on a regular basis, but she insisted that the only way to find a decent man was in high end bars. Not that you were looking.

“It will be fun! Go find a table, I'll wait for the drinks,” she instructed, clearly scouting the crowd. You pushed off of your elbows and looked around for an empty table. It was no surprise when every table and couch were full. You found an empty spot on a wall and leaned up against it.

“This should cheer you up, I got that guy to pay for our drinks,” meg, your roommate and best friend, handed you your glass and nodded towards a blonde man in an army green jacket who was staring in their direction. He had a nice smile and tilted his glass to Meg with a wink. It was painfully obvious that you were going to be left alone at some point tonight. “go for it,” you sighed. She shook her head, her red hair swaying with every turn, “he can wait for it. I need to let the anticipation build. For now, let's talk about your day, drink up and dance.” There wasn't much to dance to as today's rap hits played low level. “my day is never as interesting as yours. I just work at an unknown radio station. You're the celebrity photographer,” you say with a bit of laughter.

“You're just getting your start. Besides I'm just the photographer for BuzzFeed. it's my start too. But okay,” she began talking about the shoot she had just done for the cast of the Dune series. Meg was good about making the biggest celebrities sound like just a group of co-workers. The Dune cast had some of the biggest names in Hollywood but here she was talking about how Batista couldn't stay serious the entire shoot.

You moved on to her plans next week to shoot a rom com cast on Monday when a group walked into the bar and heads were turning from every direction. “meg, isn't thats the Dune cast,” you pointed out the obvious. You tried to keep your composure as Timothee chalamet was your biggest celebrity crush and he was walking in the doors. People brought out there phones and snapped a few pictures with it being a high class bar in New York City, it wasn't a huge deal.

Meg smiled wide and waved at the group. They spotted her and waved back as they began walking towards us. “what up?” Timothee shouted playfully as he hugged Meg. “If we had known you were coming to the same bar when you said you were going out later, we could have just left the office together!” Zendaya laughed giving Meg a one armed hug. Meg pointed to me, “this one needed a Friday night out so I had to stop home anyways.”

Florence smiled, “I needed to change anyways. That was probably one of the most fun shoots I've had for an interview though. Can we buy you girls drinks?” Florence looked to you and put her hand gently on your shoulder, “I'm so sorry, I'm Florence what's your name?” You told the group your name and Zendaya was laughing wrapping her arm around Florence, “yeah Flo she was standing herebthe whole time and we didn't even ask her name. No wonder people think celebrities are rude as hell. I'm Z this is Timothee and Austin.” You waved smiling, “it's nice to meet you all. I promise I'm not the loser I just sounded like I just prefer staying home.” They all nodded. Florence laughed, “I feel that heavily. Alright let's get some drinks at the bar and come back. the waiters here are too busy.”

While the cast walked off to get their drinks, a Waitress brought us two drinks we didn't order, the same ones we had as a first round. “they're from that gentlemen. Don't worry I prepared them and came right back this way,” she winked, obviously referring to how awful the world was. Meg blushed, her blue eyes wandering over to the blonde man from earlier. He was looking adoringly at her, blushing, he smiled and took a drink of his.

The group came back with their assortment of drinks in hand. After a few short minutes of sharing fun memories of the photoshoot earlier, Meg took a step back from your now formed circle, “you have no idea how much I want to stay and chat but I've been working on that,” she motioned to the blonde man, “for the past hour and I think it's time I stop his longing and say hi. You guys are amazing. Glad you're here to keep my bestie entertained, if you want of course okay bye!” She rambled, took a deep breath, and smoothly turned around with a look of curiosity.

“Shes good,” Florence complimented with a smile of approval and admiration. “so, where are you from?” Timothee immediately asked after taking a shit of his dark and smokey. His green eyes were fixed on yours, seemingly genuinely interested as one of his brows was up. You told him, and without hesitation asked another question, “what brings you to the city?” You didn't want to tell him the entire story about how you are a 24 year old divorcee so you just said work. “I wouldnt think someone who looks like you would be doing radio. A face like yours deserves to be seen,” Austin suddenly chimed in, saying the first words he's said all night. You blushed. Anyone would at those words spoken with his deep raspy voice.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from showing your blushing. You took a sip of your drink. “Oh come on Austin you started off too strong,” Timothee chuckled. You didn't know what was happening. Zendaya and Florence burst out with laughter before wrapping one arm around each other, “too much testosterone. (Y/n) we will be over here people watching if you find this,” Zendaya used her hand to motion the guys, “disturbing.” Then they walked away. Both guys took a step forward, causing your to take a step back, placing your back against the wall. They were standing in front of you just a ruler length away.

You felt nervous. A tingling sensation overcame your stomach among other places. “do you guys have a bet or something?” You didn't want to fall for it if it was some joke. They were two of the biggest celebrities at this time and they were seemingly coming onto you. Both with girlfriends. “yeah, a bet of who could bring home the most beautiful woman in the room,” Austin stated, looking into your eyes intensely. The bar suddenly felt like a heater was turned up. You held your composure. “You both have girlfriends if the news sources are correct,” you retorted. They shook their heads, “PR” they said simultaneously. They could be lying. It was almost as if they read your mind, contracts between manages about it. Weird they just have it ready but they most likely had to do it often.

You played it cool and finished your drink without saying a word, or tasting it as you chugged it. “I'm going to grab another drink, go check on Meg and go home. You two can decide who is coming with me,” you would never have had the confidence to say the last part without liquid courage. Good thing you were at a bar. You walked between them as if they were saloon doors and tried your best not to look back. You saw Zendaya and Florence applauding and nodding with approval. Zendaya even pumped her fist mouthing “hell yeah.”

You leaned both of your elbows against the bar and flagged down the bartender. You ordered a long island iced tea with a lemon and a lavender garnish. You were going to need all the confidence you could muster up. However you could.

You told the bartender you would be back for it after freshening up. You walked swiftly to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You regretted not going for a bit of a glam look but your “clean girl aesthetic” makeup would have to do. You looked to the other woman in the mirror who was fixing her mascara. Your expression must have been easy to read because she smiled big saying, “girl I got you!” The raven haired woman who looked at least 5 inches taller than you, reached into her clutch and pulled out a mini contour kit. “I saw you talking to the cast of Dune? Do you know them?” She questioned. You shook your head, “my best friend, practically sister does.” The woman brushed some highlight powder lightly across your cheeks,” Just enough to make some features pop, you don't want to change too much because it will look like you changed for them since they've already seen you.” she closed the kit, “good luck you are my hero.” She fixed my sweater so that it drapes over one shoulder, taking my academia look up a notch since my flowy long skirt couldn't be helped.

You weren't in the bathroom long because your drink was just being made when you got back to the counter. You took your drink and looked for Meg. Thankfully she was still there, giggling and caressing the mans bicep. She definitely wasn't coming home alone tonight. You walked over and dipped your drink, “I didn't want to interrupt but I'm headed home will you be okay?” You waited for the code word in case of danger, it never came. “I think we might stay out a bit. This is Taron. Taron this is, (y/n). Please stay out with us! You might meet someone!” She was glowing. Whatever this guy was saying to her was the cause of said glow. You smirked, shaking your head, “who said I'm going home alone?” Megs brows raised and she nodded, “okay go ahead.” She hugged you then whispered, “proud of you.” You took a breath and walked back to the guys. They were chuckling but stopped and went back to having swagger or as the kids would call it these days “rizz” which you learned meant charisma.

“Did you decide?” You lifted a brow, finishing your drink. They looked at each other and nodded as if they had some agreement. Austin took a step forward and leaned over to whisper in your ear, his low tone making a shiver to down your spine, “we actually couldn't decide.” Timothee stepped forward, Austin not moving, and leaned over to whisper in your other ear, “so let us both have you. Tonight. Then you will decide which one of us can take you to a dinner tomorrow night.” The last sentence was a demand and it sent your body into a frenzy but you kept your composure. You didn't say anything, you took a step back, put your glass on the counter and kept walking towards the door. You turned around before you got out of ear shot as they were both shrugging off disbelief they were rejected. But they weren't.

“Well? You boys coming or do I have to take care of myself after that?” They both perked up immediately and were practically tripping over their own feet as they said their goodbyes to Z and Flo.

You all stumbled out of the bar. Someone must have alerted the paparazzi and some fans, probably via deuxmoi, because there were cameras flashing outside the bar and you all stopped every few steps for them to take selfies with some fans. Austin finally said to the fans, “sorry guys, we are trying to catch up with an old friend tonight but we will be around tomorrow if we didn't manage to get to you.” we walked swiftly into the nearby metro station, “we are going to our hotel right?” Timmy asked as they managed to keep their heads down going down the steps. “no,” you shook your head, “you don't need to impress me with your 5 star hotels. It's already happening. My place is two blocks away.” They shrugged and followed you to your apartment, keeping their heads down as much as possible.

You reached your two bedroom small apartment quickly and kicked your boots off at the door. They followed suit. “your room, gorgeous?” Austin pointed to the door that had stickers of book titles all over the door. You nod once as he grabs your wrist and leads you slowly to your door timothee following you both and locking your bedroom door behind himself.

Timmy didn't hesitate to move your hair away from your neck and trail kisses down your neck and to your shoulder that was exposed on the one side. Austin gripped your face with his hand gently and kissed you passionately with just the right amount of tongue. Timmys hands went under your sweater, lifting it from your body, breaking your kiss with Austin briefly. When Austin's lips returned to yours his hand was gripping your hair now, you were getting weak in the knees.

Timothee used one ringed finger to trace the outline of your torso and gripped your breasts from under your bra before releasing them using his other hand. Timmy reached his head around you to place a breast in his mouth and push Austin away in one motion. He got down on his knees before you and slowly pulled your skirt and thong off in one go. “Bed. Now,” Austin demanded. He pulled his shirt off and Timmy followed suit. You lay on the bed, your ass aligned with the edge and Austin quickly found his way between them, trailing soft, ticklish kisses down your thighs in a teasing manner. Timmy began unbuttoning his own pants as Austin worked his tongue around your clit. You arched your back and moaned in pleasure with your hand gripping Austin's hair. Timothee got on the bed and kissed you passionately.

“Suck it for me?” Timmy smiled, his bedroom eyes arousing you. You nod and Austin grabs your hips, flips you around and has you in doggy style. He still works his tongue as you place Timothee into your mouth. Timothee groans and Austin inserts himself into you, slowly, teasingly for the first few thrusts. Then hard, causing you to scream in pleasure then slow again.

The two take turns on you, sometimes just watching you with the other but neither interacting with each other minus a few compliments and “damn bro she's loving this” comments. Two men so comfortable with their own sexuality made them even more attractive to you.

When you finished, you realized an hour and a half had passed. Austin lay on your bed staring at the ceiling repeating “wow” and “incredible” timothee pulling his boxers back on. Austin looked like he needed a breath so naturally, “timothee?” You beconed as you stood at your bathroom door naked, “shower with me?” he ripped his shorts off and joined you.

“Decided who you wanted to go to dinner with?” Timmy smirks the next morning, assuming he was the clear winner in his own head. You hadn't decided yet. They both slept on the floor. “leave your numbers on that notebook and I'll call one of you later,” you instructed. The both wrote their numbers down and you all walked out to your kitchen. Meg was sitting there drinking her coffee, which caused you to turn bright red. The guys were blushing too. “‘morning,” timothee blushed and waved to meg. She looked surprisingly well rested and didn't have the blonde with her.

“It was nice seeing you again,” Austin spoke to meg, his cheeks bright red as you moved towards the door. They put their shoes on and you let them out. “you'll actually call right?” Timothee asked with a nervous smile. “I guess you'll see,” you stated before closing the door and joining meg at the counter. “im seeing Taron for a proper date tonight but you…you have some explaining to do,” she stated while pouring your coffee.

#timmy tim #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagine #austin butler #austin butler one shot #timothee x y/n #timothee x reader #austin butler x reader #dune part two

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sassy-stupid · 11 months

Text

Sky High

Pairing

partydrugdealer!Sero x f!reader

18+ only please

Smut

Word count

3.1k

Content warnings

drugs (mostly weed but theres a mention of unnamed party drugs), dubcon (reader is under influence of drugs (weed)), fingering, oral (f receiving), vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampies

Everyone is this fic is 18+

Summary

You've never done drugs before and none other slimefest's very own dealer offers to show you the ropes.

This is my entry to the slimeball summer collab! I got the prompt "festivals"!! I'm super excited about this since it's my first collab but I'm also very nervous haha. @bastardblvd

"C'mon! It'll be fun!" Your friend's voice was loud and yet you could barely hear it over the murmur of the crowd.

You and your little group of friends had gotten to the first annual edition of slimetown's very own slimeball summerfest early. The original reasoning had been to get a nice place to pitch the tent. The "new and improved" reasoning, according to your friends, was to buy party drugs before their regular dealer started running low.

You'd assumed that was because the price would go up at that point but festival drug dealing wasn't exactly your area of expertise.

"Fine, but you guys gotta watch me okay? I don't want to be the person waking up in a hospital without any memories of their so called 'fun time'," you conceded, letting yourself be pulled along to a neat looking tent.

"This is the drug tent?" you voice your doubt as one of your friends tries to knock on the tent entrance.

She scoffs at you. "Yes it is, why don't you shout it out a little louder. I'm not sure every security guard here heard," she sneers and you hope the drugs will put her into a better mood. "See this?" your other friend taps on the "s" taped on the tent door. "That's our guy's business card."

You snort, the guy didn't even use ductape and the flimsy cellophane tape was already peeling off the tent fabric before the festival had even properly started. Before you can point any of that out to your friends though, the little zipper opens and out comes a lanky looking man who seems about the same age as you.

"As much as I appreciate my clientele ladies, can you either keep it down or come in?" he speaks, moving aside and gesturing you into his tent. The grin on his face friendly and inviting.

You attempt to follow your friends through the small opening but he stops you once you're in front of him. "Haven't seen your face before," he says, and you admit to yourself that his attention on you isn't unwelcome. He's attractive, lean muscles, tan skin and the sluttiest little waist you'd ever seen.

"Yeah, this is not usually my scene, I'm just here for them." You gesture towards your friends as you try to follow them once more. He lets you this time, the inviting grin having slipped into more of an amused smirk.

"I knew it, would've recognized a face like yours," he speaks. Both your friends shoot you looks, one distinctly more annoyed than the other. "And don't you worry. My customer's comfort is of utmost importance to me, I'll help you enjoy yourself." He shoots you a wink and your face heats up, your mind can't help but wander to the possible implications of his words.

"Sero, we didn't come here for you to flirt with (y/n)," your annoyed friend spoke up. She was waving around some cash and the man in front of you took the bait.

"Always so impatient," he says, getting up to rummage through his wares "I've got some new stuff you two may like, wouldn't recommend it for your friend though." He pulls out a bag with what, out of context, would've looked just like candy. Your friend hands him the wad of cash.

"Pleasure doing business with you two, as always, now why don't you two wait outside for a second while I'll teach your friend here the ropes," he requests, you're about to protest but he continues before you can, "awfully crowded in this little tent."

You beg your friends to stay through facial expressions but the fuckers just up and leave, your favourite of the two quickly adding on that they'll wait for you outside.

"So, how much of a first timer are you really?" You know he's talking about drugs but the way he suggestively wiggles his eyebrows implies something else and you realize he's teasing you. Your eyebrows furrow and you're about to give him a piece of your mind when he bursts out laughing. "Sorry, sorry. I always like to joke around to get the edge off a little," he explains. "Though, I have other stuff for that as well." He pulls out a bag of something, it's clearly not the same stuff he just sold your friends but you had no clue what it could be.

He inspects the look on your face and whistles. "Damn, that much of a first timer huh? No worries, I'll talk you through it all" his voice was incredibly smooth and it brought the heat back to your face, you hope he mistakes it for embarrassment.

"Do you always flirt this much? Is that why my friend was shooting me nasty looks?" you ask, trying to deflect. It only causes him to laugh more.

"It's a sales tactic I'm familiar with," he says shooting you another wink. "And not much of a friend, that one. If she's that upset over a flirty comment from her dealer? I can't even imagine the level of jealousy."

"But, you didn't enter my little paradise here to gossip. Let me let you in on how things work around here," he starts, and he does. He tells you all about the drug he's about to sell you, some type of weed called wedding cake? You liked the name if anything. How much it'll cost you and how to smoke it, even offers to show you.

"Can't have my cute little customer bumbling about, not even knowing how to use the stuff I sold her," he explains, nodding in approval as you hold the freshly rolled blunt. "Now let's light it up and I'll show you exactly how to do it." He moves real close to you now, and true to his word he teaches you. The proximity flusters you beyond belief and you think whatever you're smoking right now isn't exactly keeping you clear headed either. You catch yourself looking at his lips more than once and you might not realize it but he catches you too, it makes him chuckle.

"All right, that's enough for now, trust me on that," he tells you. Somewhere deep down you're happy he's doing all of this for you though, makes you giggle. His hand ruffles your hair in response and he speaks again, "let's get you back out to your friends, unless you wanna keep me company?" You're not sure if it's an actual offer or a joke but you laugh either way, already turning towards the exit to find your friends.

You leave the tent to find no one waiting for you, except for a small piece of paper stuck to Sero's tape on the tent entrance. "Hot guy, be back later. Stay safe," it read. Tears well in your eyes. They promised they'd look after you, that's why you agreed to all this in the first place. Now you were all alone, high off your ass, on festival grounds in what is known as the sleaziest town around.

"Aw, come now baby, don't cry." Sero's voice startles you out of your little moment, you'd forgotten he was right behind you. "I'd never leave a cute little customer like you in need," he promises, though you're not entirely sure what the promise entails. He gestures for you to follow him.

Maybe the weed is clouding your mind but you do find yourself following the relative stranger without further questioning, though luckily he comes out with an answer to the question in your mind.

"I'm taking you to my private tent, it's roomier," he explains, his arm around the small of your back now. You lean into it, his warmth feeling nice against your skin.

The crowd had grown since you guys had entered the tent and now there were people everywhere, you were starting to get anxious despite the high you were experiencing. Luckily for you, your ever vigilant dealer noticed.

"Baby, I'm here. You're okay," he says as his thumb strokes your cheek. You think about how normally you'd never let anyone this close but everything about him is just so nice and warm. You lean into his touch entirely and a deep chuckle escapes him. "Want me to really take care of you?" He asks, eyes flitting down to your lips and back up. Yours do the same, except you struggle to pull them back up. You nod nonetheless and he's on you instantly.

You'd kissed plenty of people before but Sero felt different, you wanted to consider that it might be the weed but all you could think of right now was him. The way his lips molded to yours. The way one of his hands dragged up your back and into your hair while the other moved down towards your ass. The way his tongue slipped past your lips and played with yours.

You couldn't suppress the moan that leaves you and and he groans. "Oh aren't you just the cutest, come on, we aren't far." He's pulling you along again before you can complain and you find yourself staring at his ass as he pulls you through a final part of the crowd.

You reach his tent, it does look bigger than the one you just came from but it's placed right in between a few more tents and there's people everywhere. In a moment of clarity you ask him, "but won't people hear?"

The laugh it pulls out of him is attractive but does nothing to ease your worry, and his words certainly don't either. "Sweetness, trust me, that is gonna be the last thing on your mind in a couple of minutes." As he speaks his guiding hand on your lower back slips slightly lower again but you can't find it in you to worry about it anymore, in fact it all feels kind of fun.

So instead you giggle.

The inside of sero's tent is nice, you didn't peg him as the type of guy to decorate his festival tent but apparently business has been good for him. You fawn at one of the cute pillows adorning his mattress. It was a bright yellow and you nearly squealed in excitement as you felt how fuzzy the outside of it was.

"You liking the place?" He asked, the hand that was guiding you from the small of your back had moved to you shoulder and was now pushing you to sit on his mattress. You turn around to face him, looking up at him from your place near the ground and nod enthusiastically. "Good, I pride myself on my sense for interior design."

He's sinking down next to you on the mattress and only now do you realize it's an air mattress, his weight propping the side you're sitting on up. You stop yourself from giggling once more.

"C'mere pretty girl, I know you're just itching to get touched." His voice dropped into a seductive tone and you notice he's right, ever since he'd kissed you you'd wanted more.

You're nodding along as he reaches out to your face, pulling you into another kiss that feels like the centre of your universe. Though that universe expands the second Sero's hand slips into your pants.

Every place he'd touched you had felt hot so far but the sensation of his hand on your pussy nearly drove you wild.

"S-sero," you managed between frantic kissing. In response he just hummed, not letting your lips stray far as his fingers started playing with you.

"What is it pretty girl? Enjoying yourself? I knew you'd look even prettier like this," he says, his hand picking up speed. Your hands are clutching both his hair and his shirt, he's making you feel like you're floating and you're desperately holding on to something.

"Sero I can't-" you interrupt yourself with a moan, you can't keep yourself quiet. His touch feels divine, silencing yourself would be blasphemy and yet his unoccupied hand hands you the same pillow you'd been admiring before.

"Bite it princess, you wouldn't want everyone to hear now would you?" His words feel like they're meant to tease you but right now, you'd agree with anything he told you. And so you bite down, the fabric feels weird between your teeth. As you do so, he picks up the pace, fingers dancing around inside you as if they're as desperate to please as you are.

And please they do, in Sero's eyes you're practically begging him to let you cum. He's never been one to deny a pretty girl.

Before you know it your pants are off and you underwear is pushed to the side. You hardly even registered him moving you onto your back. You certainly did register his breath on your cunt though.

His tongue made quick work of sucking on your clit and his fingers never did light up on the pace from before so you're screaming into the pillow as you cum on his face in no time at all.

His fingers keep thrusting as he speaks into your pussy, "oh yeah baby, give me all of it." Though he lets up as soon as you start whining in overstimulation.

He chuckles as you start fumbling around with the buttons on his pants. Even though you just came you had to feel if his cock could send you into outer space as well. "Damn (y/n), you want it that bad, huh? Maybe I let you smoke too much," he says, petting your hair as you finally get his pants off. Your hands are teasing his rock hard dick through his boxers. Once both of you manage to get out of the last of your clothes, you lean down attempting to return the favor. He stops you, "Baby, no, I'm taking care of you, remember?" He explains, urging you to lay down on your stomach.

He props a different pillow from the one you're holding up under your hips. Facing away from him is a double edged sword, you couldn't see him, but every touch he laid on you was felt tenfold. You shiver as he drags a finger up you spine, other hand firmly holding your hips in place.

"You ready for this pretty girl? Remember your surprise tool for keeping quiet." He's referring to the pillow but all though leaves your mind as soon as the thick head of his cock drags through your folds. You bite down on the pillow and hug it to your chest tightly.

He holds his cock up to your entrance and he finally pushes in. He moans quietly as he slips all the way into you, the sound would drive you mad if the feeling of him filling you entirely hadn't already. You'd had sex before but just as your kiss with Sero had been different, this was too.

He's only just pushed in and you already felt on the verge of climax. "Damn baby, you liking it that much? You're like a fucking vice," he tells you, both his hands coming up to your hips, pushing you down into the mattress so he could fuck into you.

You're making what you hope are small noises of approval and he seems to take it as a sign to really start fucking you, or taking care of you as he'd call it.

You hadn't been wrong, his cock was taking you to outer space if the stars you were seeing were any indication. You don't know how long he's pushing into you like that but you do know that before long he's pumping his cum into you with a deep groan, but not quite stopping before he feels you cum all over his dick again.

"See? Took real good care of you right?" He praises himself as he gets up. You're about to whine about him leaving when he comes back with a couple of napkins. "Sorry about this pretty girl, but I wasn't exactly prepared for this today," he apologizes. "I'd have at least brought wet wipes." He cleans you up as good as he can and the next hour or so is spent cuddling and snacking on whatever Sero puts into your hands. Before you know it you're dozing off.

You blink the sleep out of your eyes as you roll around on the air mattress, hands finding paper instead of a warm body next to you. You groggily get up, patting the bed until you found the note again.

Sleep leaves you quickly when you see the money taped to the note. You snort at what you read.

"Dear (y/n), my favorite customer.

Pussy too good to charge. Gotta go back to my small business now, keep the pillow you liked so much as a reminder.

And whenever you want more than just a reminder, call me.

xxx-xxx-xx"

You snort again at his antics before pulling yourself together and climbing out of his tent. You'd decided that it was for the best if you went back to your own tent for the night. Hopefully you'd find your friends there too.

You weaved through the crowd effortlessly now that you'd slept off whatever that stuff did to you. The walk over was giving you time to consider your night. It wasn't like you'd had a bad time, you bite your lip remembering it, quite the opposite actually. The only part that bothered you was the way you'd been ditched by your friends and left with a guy whose clear intent was to fuck you.

Your friends have quite something to make up to you, is the conclusion you come to as your arrive at your shared tent. You hear the commotion before you can even enter.

"How was I supposed to know that was THE slimetown freeloader?" your annoying friend called out. She had her hands buried in her face and she looked like she'd been crying.

"How about you just don't let random men BLINDFOLD you in our tent next time? That way they can't run off with our pillows!" Your other friend replied, obviously pissed off at the loss of the fluffy item.

The two of you take a bit to notice you but they gawk the second they see you hug the furry yellow pillow closer to your chest. "Where'd you get that pillow?" The question sounds more like an accusation coming from the pillowless girls but you're the one with a reason to be upset here so you just shrug and say, "Sero gave it to me, along with a refund and his number."

#Sero x reader #Sero x reader smut #bnha sero x reader #bnha sero x reader smut #mha sero x reader #mha sero x reader smut #tagging is so awkward to me lol #i never know which tags to put and which ones to not add #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x reader smut #i forgot homeboy had a first name too ngl lmao #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader #mha x reader smut

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justanamesstuff · 11 months

Text

The intimacy of being understood

Chapter 1

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: I'm so excited and SO terrified about posting this fic. I've fallen for this concept since the first moment I thought about it, I've been having so many feelings writing this sooooo I really hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think, feedback is ALWAYS welcomed!! Happy reading, guys :))

Warnings: breakups, fame, hurt feelings, typos.

Word count: 2 k

Blog Masterlist Series Masterlist

After a quick lunch, eaten at the back surrounded by boxes full of books ready to be sorted out, Kate stumbled in. She was Y/n's friend since kindergarten: one day she pushed some kid –Y/n didn’t remember him– who made her cried and Kate pushed him out of a little chair. Small Kate turned around, offering her tiny hand, and Y/n stopped crying. Nothing came between them since, maintaining a very strong friendship.

Kate didn’t work at the bookshop with Y/n, she didn’t have the money to pay someone else to help her. She did good money enough to maintain the place and rent a small flat not far away from the shop. Even though, Kate constantly showed up wanting to spend time with her, sharing the latest gossip of her office or ramble about one of her ex-girlfriends she bumped into while helping her with the books.

“She looked amazing- Holly fuck!” Kate’s tone drifted from a normal one to a gasped whisper, interrupting herself.

Y/n looked firstly to the front door, leaving the spreadsheet on the counter; checking if someone was happening outside. She couldn’t see anything through the window.

She decided to ask Kate, “What?”

“Look.” it was very rare hearing Kate whisper, she was all out, a true extrovert. Her friend’s finger pointed to the other side from the door.

Y/n turned her head, still hearing the sound of the angel caller she hanged in the entrance as a bell for when a new customer entered the shop. Her eyes finally fell on a very familiar man.

“I’m looking, but I don’t see anything weird.” Y/n copied her tone, looking how Matty roamed through the different categories. She felt strange about him not greeting her as usual. Y/n reassured herself, ‘it must be a reason’. Her eyer returned to Kate.

“Shhh.” Kate startled her best friend with the sound when nothing really happened. Y/n glanced at her as if a new eye showed up in the middle of her forehead.

“What’s wrong with you today?” Y/n inquired. “Sorry, but I’m not following you.” she sentenced.

Kate checked Matty was turned to point a finger in his direction. “That one…” she turned her head like a mad woman. “That’s Matty Healy!” Y/n’s friend said with a hissing voice.

Y/n was so confused, “Do you know him?” maybe he was a coworker, that happened many times before.

“Oh my god!” Kate let his arm fell, rubbing her face dramatically. “I forget how out of this world you are.” she glanced towards the floor as if she was trying to look for answers.

“Still not having a clue over this.” Y/n let eyes returned to the paper work she needed to get done.

“Matty Healy doesn’t ring a bell inside this mind of yours?” Kate tapped her left temple.

Y/n brushed her off, trying to think about it, even when the full name didn’t bring a bell.

“Name plus surname no. Matty comes here all the time.” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Kate stared, trying to decide if she was messing with her or not. “You’re full of shit.”

“No, I’m not. He’s really nice.” Y/n turned the page, writing numbers here and there.

Matty was indeed a very regular, he had been for more than a month by that moment. Y/n fell quickly into conversations with him when he dropped by. She didn’t give the casual friendship too much thought until that moment.

“Oh, really?” Kate folded her arms, smirking with Y/n’s words. “How nice?”

Y/n couldn’t believe what she was implying, so her sight flew to her friend's face, being the one to search signals that told her she was kidding. Kate wasn’t, she really wanted to know.

“No like that!” the bookshop owner moved forward and beyond Kate’s body to check he wasn’t hearing their conversation. Y/n sighed loud watching him so far from them.

“Mmm…don’t believe you.” Kate kept pushing her to talk, only gaining a red tint showing on Y/n’s cheeks.

“He started coming here like a few months ago. He looked stressed as fuck…he excused himself saying someone was following him, I’d thought he was talking about a mugger not- whatever he has…fans? I don’t even know.“ Y/n explained.

Kate nodded. “Crazy fans.”

“Well, he stayed a lot over the back of the shop and after- I don’t remember how long… he came back carrying a children's book. I think it was ‘The very hungry caterpillar’, and I got excited over it.” Y/n tried to avoid her friend’s eyes at all cost.

“Of course…” Kate’s voice full of irony.

“He was buying it for his godson and since then he started showing up here and there…he never explained what he does for a living, I don’t even care.” Y/n admitted.

Kate let her hands fell on top of her chest. “Such a cute story”

“I can’t believe he’s famous.”

“Yeah, you live under a rock.”

“No, I live inside the real world.”

“Liar.” Kate accused her. “You have your nose inside a book every time I open that door.” she pointed to the front door.

Y/n gasped and turned, saying, “Aren’t you supposed to help me arrange the new saga?”

Kate groaned loud. Y/n felt Matty looking their way, but didn’t dare to make eye contact.

“Why I offered my free time again?” her friend asked.

“You own me! Remember how I had to pick your ass at 4 am at that Soho party you chose to tried to get in and got kicked out?” Y/n felt good teasing her back for once.

“Thanks for reminding me that.” Kate eyes’ returned to Matty, who moved to sit at the big sofas adoring the centre of the shop. “I’ll go to the back. Shout when he comes over here.” she begged.

Y/n boobed her head up and down in a dramatic way, pursing her lips at the same time.

“Mhm, definitely going to do that. Be sure I’ll do exactly that.” Y/n spoke to Kate’s back walking away.

“I need to see if he’s really handsome indeed.” she whispered from the door leading to the storage room.

“He is.” Y/n added just to mock her.

“Agh, you’re so mean!”

“Work, now!”

Y/n waited until Grace was far away to focus on Matty. He was still sitting on the sofa, now with a book on his lap but looking at the ceiling. She decided it was a good moment to approach him.

“Hey.”

Matty got startled a little, too deep into his thoughts to acknowledge the sound of her feet approaching him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…” Y/n felt sorry to scare him.

A big smile showed up in his face, changing all his demeanour. “Hey there. Don’t worry.”

“I couldn’t stop to notice- I mean, maybe you want a moment of quiet, and I’m disturbing you but…sorry.” Y/n grew self-conscious under his attentive eyes. “What I’m trying to ask is, are you alright?”

Matty felt his heart skip a bit, “You’re the first person to ask me today.”

Y/n frowned, checking her clock. “It’s 3 pm.” she stated.

“I know.”

“So I assume this is not your best day.”

“Not at all.” he said, still smiling, contradicting his own words somehow.

Y/n decided to change the subject.“What book you chose?” she pointed to the book resting unread.

“Everything quiet at the front.” Matty read the title.

“Uplifting I see..” she joked, and Matty laughed. The sound reached her ears and warmed her heart.

“‘m sorry I didn’t say hello earlier.” Matty apologized. “Didn’t want to interrupt your conversation with the other girl.” his hand pointed towards the front desk.

“She’s my best friend and personal nightmare…Kate.”

“Where’s she now?”

“At the back, she owns me a few favors so…”

“Mhm.”

“Well, I’m going to stop bothering-“ Y/n started excusing herself.

Matty interrupted, clarifying, “You never bother me, Y/n.” Her name coming from his lips felt different.

“Good to know.” her cheeks were burning. Y/n turned around towards her desk but desist in the middle of the action. “Can I suggest you changing the book?” she asked, looking inside her tired eyes.

Matty gave her a signal, adding, “Which one you say is better?”

“It’s a play in fact…’The Seagull’ by Chéjov. It’s also sad but easier to read, I think.”

“Interesting.” Y/n felt maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut. “I have to go now, sadly, but I’ll be back soon to read it.” Matty told her.

“I can pack it for you. Have one over he-“ Y/n’s mood lifted a little with the last part, proposing packeting it for him, although she interrupted her again.

“No, I prefer reading it here the next time I come.”

“Okay, suit yourself, Matty.” Y/n looked down, not really knowing what to do now.

“I’ll see you soon, thanks. Say hi to Kate for me.” Matty scratched the back of his head.

“Oh, that nice…for sure, I’m going to retransmit that.”

“Bye.” Matty lift his hand, waving at her from a few meters far from her.

Y/n followed his form, walked towards the door, and once outside get lost between the people coming and going.

Kate showed up from behind the storage door, smiling wide at her friend.

“If I wasn’t so stoked about one of my favourite singer of all times knowing… remotely… who I am, I’ll say that man is sad but down bad for the library girl.” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Stop bluffing and celebrate a little.” Y/n tried to distract Kate.

“Y/n…”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

They had that conversations for months, almost a fucking year, and Y/n knew it as if was a play she wrote. Kate would insist about her dating again, she would say she’s not ready –which was the truth– and her best friend would be sympathetic about it even though she would keep insisting.

“I saw pictures of that man in love…I know, a bit, how he is.” Kate tried to persuade Y/n.

“Kate, you really don’t know him. I don’t know him far from Matty, the guy that comes here from time to time.”

“Do you want to know more about him?” she took her phone out.

“No.I don’t. I respect his privacy.” Y/n was pushing her away, closing herself. Both friends knew that.

“You can’t wound me with this.”

“Fine.”

“Come on! Forget he's fucking famous…he's fucking hot, and he wants you-“

Y/n closed her eyes tight, “You don’t-“

“He does. I feel it.”

“Why you have to sexualize this?”

“Because it what he exudes, my love.” Kate placed herself at the other side of the front desk, where Y/n was trying to look busy with books and papers.

“I don’t want to hear anything else, okay?” Y/n stared at her eyes briefly.

“Y/n…I know that what you’ve been through is a lot to recover your heart from, but you know he’d want-“ the mention of his wishes angered Y/n, who pushed a book down with too much force.

“No, I don’t. He never spoked about it because we were meant to spend the rest of our lives together, and then…” Y/n felt tears pooling in the corner of her eyes.

“Oh, my love…” Kate ran around the counter. “Come here.” she hugged her friend. “I’m here, I’m here. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t do it.” Y/n said into her shoulder.

“Okay, okay. I understand. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s too soon.”

“Mmm…it’s never too soon to have a new, famous and hot friend.” Kate tried to lift her mood.

Y/n snorted, “He’s hot.” there was no reason to deny it.

“Right?! That’s a start! Baby steps…come on, girl! You can do this.” Kate took Y/n’s face between her hands, staring into her red eyes.

“Let’s get back to work, please.”

“Would you take me as an employee if I quit my job?”

Y/n titled her head, “You love your job.”

“But I’d love to see Matty's butt flying around.”

“Could you stop sexualizing my customers, please?”

“No when they’re Matty fucking Healy!” she shouted while returning to the back.

*****************

Taglist (let me know if you want to be included): @indierockgirrl

#matty healy #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #miniseries #matty healy x y/n #the 1975 fanfic #matty the 1975 #matty x reader

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elizabethwritesmen · 4 months

Text

The Devil Wears Lace

chapter 3 : February 14, 2023

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

summary: simon still plagues your mind, so you’re overjoyed when he shows up at the bar on valentine’s day. you guys get a little closer, but the night ends on a bad note.

warnings: 18+ for eventual smut, pining, flirting, reader is assaulted, simon gets violent, i think that’s all but let me know if i missed anything!

series masterlist

February 14, 2023

Four months passed and I felt any hope I had of seeing Ghost again vanishing. It was pathetic, really, how I’d gotten so wrapped up in a man whose face I hadn’t even seen. A man that grunted more than he talked and was not personable at all. A man that likely wanted nothing to do with me. A man without a name.

I was honestly embarrassed of myself, ashamed that I’d become such a mess over a man. I was the one who was supposed to make men feel helpless. Not the other way around. But kicking up the flirting with my regulars seemed to help, plus it magnified my tips, along with the fact that my boss changed our uniform skirt from the mid thigh one we were accustomed to, to one that barely fell below our asses.

It was Valentine’s day, so I wanted to look extra special. It was always a great tip day, lonely people filling the tables up, getting drunk and tipping extra. Lonely men thinking they’ll have a chance if only they’re nice and give me more. So I painted my lips dark red, and slipped on some thigh high stockings with garters and a lace trim, sliding my black sneakers over them.

“Whew!” Sabrina exaggerated as I walked in the door that morning, “You look even better this year than you did last year!”

“Thanks, I try,” I winked, tapping her nose as I made my way behind the bar and clocked in.

The hours passed by until finally night fell. There had been copious amounts of loneliness, drinking, and tipping, just as I had predicted.

“Y’look different,” his voice was rough, like a callous on the hands of a hardworking man, and it shattered my insides on impact. I took a moment to steady myself from it before turning around from my position facing the bottles.

There he was, decked out with his mask on his face. I forgot how to breathe for a second, then choked out a small cough and did my best to appear normal and natural.

“Ghost,” I greeted, with a million dollar smile.

“New uniform?” his eyes fell to my legs, but only for a second, before meeting mine again.

“New skirt but the stockings are a personal touch.”

“Gotta give the men hell somehow, right?”

“Exactly, and these have been doin’ the trick,” I grinned, eyes on my legs, too shy to look at him.

“What’s goin’ on in that head o’ yours?” he asked, “You were all big and bad last time I saw you and now you’re shy?”

“I know I said this last time, but I didn’t think I was gonna see you again.”

He grunted in his usual way, ordering a whiskey neat and gesturing over to a table that his friends were crowded around when I handed it to him.

“They all want to say hello to you, whenever you have a chance to drop by,” he explained, and I nodded as all the boys turned towards me, proving his point. “You don’t have to, though. If they make you feel uncomfortable. I know they’re a lot.”

“I like them,” I shrugged, “They’re different than the other guys that come in here. You’re different too. It’s a nice change of pace.”

“You mean it’s nice that they’re not falling for all the shit you say?”

I had the audacity to look sheepish for a second before nodding, eyes trained on his, and he scoffed lightly and went on his way, barely sparing me a glance back. I grinned, victorious in the way I annoyed him. I wanted to annoy him and get under his skin.

“I see he’s back,” Sabrina spoke from beside me, eyeing up their table.

“Yeah.”

“Well, what’re you waiting for, Daph? Go solve the mystery!” she teased, and I rolled my eyes at her. “Seriously, girl, you’ve been here pining over him since the day he saved you. Go, talk to him!”

“I haven’t been pining over him.” My words were sharp, razor edged but turned feeble because I knew I was just being defensive. “I don’t pine over people.”

“You certainly never have before but there’s a first time for everything.”

I thought for a second, “This doesn’t mean I want him or anything. I don’t. I just need to get the flirting out of my system so that when he leaves this time, I won’t be wondering whether or not he’s ever gonna come back.”

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” she giggled, pushing me in the direction of them and slapping my ass on my way.

One of them I recognized as Gaz let out a slight whistle, “There she is!”

“Hey,” I offered, grin coy on my face.

“What’re you doin’ here all alone on Valentine’s Day?” he asked me.

“I’m working,” I furrowed my brows, gesturing around as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah, but you seem like the type of girl who’d have something to do today.”

“I do…” I hummed, stepping closer to them until I was leaning on the table, “I’m here to make lonely men who can’t keep a girlfriend feel better with booze so they’ll give me money.”

“Now that sounds more like you,” he laughed, and the others joined him, all except Ghost. His eyes just trained on me like they were supposed to be there.

“What’re all of you doing back? More ass to kick?” I turned away to distract myself with the other boys.

“Yeah, and Ghost insisted we come see you,” the other one, Soap, smirked, glancing at the Lieutenant, who stayed silent but his eyes were deadly.

“That’s cute,” I winked at him, “Of all the men that come in here, tall dark and deadly over there is my favorite.”

“You can tell us all about it when you get off and join us,” Gaz urged, and I sighed with a shake of my head.

“I’ve gotta close up tonight, boys. I’ll be here until 3.”

“Oh, we’ll probably stay that late anyway then so the Lieutenant can walk you to your car,” Soap’s voice was light, teasing, an edge to it and he didn’t dare look at Ghost. Smart move, because the glare he was receiving was positively fatal.

“Well if that’s the case,” I drawled, sliding up beside the man himself and giving his shoulder a little squeeze, something I’d not done before but it sent chills all over me the second my skin met the fabric of his clothes, “I’ll make sure to keep the drinks coming.”

“And the conversation!” They called after me as I walked away, and I threw them a wink over my shoulder.

I did as promised, rounding back to their table every so often. I didn’t want to do it too much, didn’t want to give Ghost the satisfaction, but I did it just enough to sate the feelings I’d been feeling for him before they overwhelmed me. I noticed how good he smelled, and just how large and built he was, and that didn’t make it any better as I found an excuse to touch him every time I went by their table. He seemed like a man that didn’t want to be touched but he must not have minded when I did it. He made eye contact with me every time though, his expression a warning to me. Tread lightly. But I never liked listening to warnings and I never liked playing by the rules, so I only got more brazen, until I’d slid one hand down his chest and taken his own hand in mine.

“It’s almost 3,” I observed, “You really gonna walk me to my car?”

“Do you think I need to?” his tone was teasing, and I fed right into it.

“Oh, yes, please. I’m so scared something will happen to me if I walk alone.” My voice was exaggerated, light and damsel-like for dramatic effect.

“You walk alone every night.”

“You don’t know that,” I countered, and his eyes snapped up, burning hot into mine.

“Oh, ‘s that right? You’re having these bumbling assholes from the bar walk you out? You’re not scared of them at all?”

“I can take care of myself, Ghost,” I sighed.

“Against a man who’s bigger than you and has combat training? A man you’ve teased for God knows how long that might finally want to get his hands on you?”

I leaned forward, lips a ghost on the fabric covering his ear, and whispered, “I dare any of them to try it.”

“You’re pretty cocky,” he grumbled.

“It’s always worked for me,” I shrugged with a wink as I pulled away from him.

A moment of silence passed before he spoke, as if he had to think about his words. Or maybe he just wanted to leave me in suspense. “Yes, I’m walking you to your car.”

“Good,” I hummed, walking away again. I hoped I was driving him as insane as he was driving me, all of the give and take between us becoming a lot to handle but I could do it and I knew he could keep up.

As I waited patiently for the clock to strike 3 so we could do last call, my eyes kept falling to the way he lifted his mask over his mouth to take a sip of his drink. Finally, when Sabrina went around telling everyone we were closing up, he did it one last time and drained his glass, placing it roughly back on the counter and pulling the fabric back down. Not before I could observe him, though, pale stubbled skin framing pretty pink sinful looking lips.

They waited for me as I rushed to clean up, and then we all walked out together. The boys said goodbye to me just like the last time before heading in the opposite direction, and Ghost turned me towards my car.

“Don’t you think it’d be smart to stop parking in the alley?” he grunted, and I laughed, a breathy and light thing falling from my lips.

“Maybe.”

He glared at me, his eyes extra bright behind his mask. Deep and brown, I swore I got lost for a second in them before clearing my throat and turning away.

Once we finally reached my vehicle, I was alarmed to find a man leaning against the drivers’ side. I recognized him. I’d served him earlier, he’d ordered way too many drinks. He was upset over a breakup or something and he’d told me that I was the only thing keeping him going. That I was better than his ex anyway. That she was a whore and I was an angel sent just for him. They loved to call me that. Angel. Of all the men, though, I had to give it to this particular one. He was unsettling, even in the bar he had been, his words seeming less like compliments and more like dirty degradations making me feel ill. He seemed demented in some way, like he was thinking the most horrible things about me. The nastiest things about me, and the only way to let them out was to shoddily flirt. I could see why his ex left him.

“There you are, Angel,” his voice was like a snake, slithering up my spine and leaving chills in its wake. “Been waiting a while for you.” He took one last swig out of the almost empty bottle in his hand then threw it to the side, watching as it shattered on the pavement.

“What’re you doing out here? It’s late, go home,” I set my jaw, stepping forward slightly and shaking Ghost off when he tried to stop me. I didn’t need him to fight my battle for me. I was a grown woman, more than capable of dealing with a too-drunk idiot who was waiting for me by my car.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? Leading a man on then sending him on his way like it doesn’t matter?” Every word was loaded like a gun, and he advanced towards me, blocking my path to my car.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” I hissed, voice low, anger flaring up.

“I don’t think I will. Send your little boyfriend on his way, sexy, we’ve got some stuff to discuss,” he lunged at me, reaching for my arm and I only had a second to panic before a hand was twisting in my shirt, yanking me roughly back. I realized it was Ghost, putting me behind him, as distant as possible from the scene unfolding before me.

Ghost slammed the guy against the wall, forearm to his throat, dwarfing him.

“You sure about that?” he growled, his voice deeper and more terrifying than anything the other man had said, but somehow it made me feel safe.

“Get the fuck off of me,” the guy spat, and Ghost chuckled darkly.

“What’s your name?” Ghost asked, but it was more of a demand than a question.

“Why?”

“Because by tomorrow you’ll be stripped of your rank and if you ever bother her again, I’ll make a trip back here just to kill you.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Watch me.” That was a dare, chilling and foreboding.

He threw the smaller man to the ground, and watched as he scampered away on his hands and knees, thoroughly terrified.

“I could’ve handled that,” I huff as soon as he’s gone.

Ghost has the nerve to laugh at that, full and sharp, before advancing lightly on me.

“You think so, angel?” The word from him was mocking, as if to prove his point to me.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, would you prefer sexy?”

“Stop,” I yelled, “I could’ve handled it, I didn’t need you to step in and be a hero.”

“You couldn’t have. And that’s your problem. You’re not scared enough. You’re too good of a girl to be throwing caution to the wind like that.”

“Why should I be scared?”

“Do you know what that idiot was planning?” I stayed silent, eyes on his like a challenge as he raised his voice, “Well do you?”

“I have some ideas.”

“Exactly. And you stepped up like an idiot. He was bigger than you, and he was plastered, so you wouldn’t have been able to overpower him. You’re not scared enough, and you should be, because you’re crossing the line between bravery and stupidity.” I stayed quiet again, knowing he was right. I’d found my way into a situation that I could not, in fact, deal with on my own and I was thankful he was there. “Stop parking in the alley. Stop walking to your car alone. I mean it.”

I nodded slowly, “Okay.”

“Get in the fucking car and go so I’ll know you’re safe.”

I walked towards my driver’s side door, then paused, turning back. He was looking at me expectantly, and I approached him slowly, leaning up to kiss his covered cheek like I had the first time.

“Thank you, Ghost,” I whispered, falling back on my feet and getting in the car. I went home, shaking from the adrenaline that was coursing through me. I had to admit, that was one of the scarier things that had happened to me working there.

But Ghost was so quick to put himself in front of me, to defend me, to protect me. Any chance I had of getting him off my mind was gone, all I could see were his forearms as he pressed the guy into the bricks. I couldn’t help it as my mind wandered into dark territory, places it should never go when men I might not see again are involved. He was hot. That much was clear, and the fact that every single part of him was deadly made it worse. I wondered what else he could do. How he could take something so dangerous and use it to make me come apart. I could feel the ache settle in my bones when I accepted my want for him, knowing it wouldn’t ever leave.

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