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axwalker · 3 years

Text

AFTER

I’ve never liked the way PB wrote everything that happens after Drake gets shot trying to save MC --they don’t even go to a freaking hospital!!

I think this might have been done before but I wanted to share my own version of it. I hope you enjoy it!

This is my contribution for DAY THREE OF TRRAW hosted by @trraw

This ONE-SHOT belongs to The Walker’s universe but it’s a stand alone. MASTERLIST HERE.

I hope you enjoy it!

Book and Pairing: TRR Drake x Alexis (MC)

Warnings: Shooting, coma.

ALL MY FICS ARE +18.

Words: 2,868

Disclaimer: All characters and some dialogues and places belong to Pixelberry.

Tagging perma:

@mskaneko @drakexwillow @burnsoslow @thegreentwin @kat-tia801

@gkittylove99 @no-one-u-know @twinkle-320 @forallthatitsworth @marshmallowsandfire @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @princessleac1

@twinkleallnight @tinkie1973 @moneyfordiamonds

DRAKE

My lungs draw in air, bringing consciousness and chaos rushing back to me. And pain. So much pain. My vision is blurred as if I’m underwater. I can’t move; I can hardly take some shallow breaths. Gunshots, screams, and fire sound through the ringing in my ears. My left arm is heavy with deep, piercing pain. I feel dizzy and disoriented, but I have to make sure where Lexie is. She has to be alive. I remember the gun pointing at her, and terror, as I’ve never known, invades me, carrying adrenaline through my blood.

“Lexie,” I croak. “Lexie!” My gaze darts all over, assessing. A pool of blood, seeping into the floor below me, freeze my veins. Please, God, don’t let it be her. I struggle to sit up, but the sharp pain stops me. Trembling, I turn to see the hole in the skin of my forearm, up to my elbow. The screaming starts again closer, and I realize that Alexis is not hurt.

My relief is short-lived when I realize Alexis’s crying inconsolably. She seems desperate; her hands are drenched, red. Her dress is soaked up in blood. For a minute, I panic again, but I realize it is my own blood she has all over her. I sigh, relieved, and try to tell her that I’m in fine, but I can’t get the words out of my mouth.

I struggle to stand up, but I feel someone or something trying to keep me pinned where I am. It’s not Lexie because she’s kneeled next to me. Telling me … something. I can’t hear her. Her hands go from my face to my chest and my hair. Huge tears are rolling from her eyes. Suddenly, her soothing touch stop, and I want to scream. Leo is holding her; she seems so broken. I want to take her in my arms, tell her that I’ll be okay, but I can’t speak.

Finally, my eyes fall shut under a wave of dizziness that I can’t avoid. The last thing I see is Alexis’s sad face before blackness comes down.

A thousand stars twinkle in the sky; I’m lying in the middle of the woods. Lexie is next to me, her small hand engulfed by mine. Despite the frosty wind, I feel warm, content for the first time in a long time. I want to stay here, like this, with her forever.

Suddenly, we’re back at the palace, and she’s in my arms. We’re swaying slowly at the rhythm of an old waltz, and I realize it’s the happiest moment of my life. Just moments ago, her warm body was writhing, moaning beneath me. She was mine.

Now she’s here. With me. You have to wake up now, she says. Please, Drake. Wake up, my love. I don’t understand what she’s talking about; I try to hold on to her, but she keeps crying and begging for me to wake up over and over again.

I try to tell her I’m here with her. That I’m never going to let her go. That I regret every second, we wasted because I refused to listen to her. That I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together. But I can’t. My eyes refuse to open, my brain to cooperate. She’s so close and so far away from me. This is punishment for chasing after what wasn’t mine. For using Liam’s trust and deceive him. For hurting Lexie. I hurt the woman I loved when I swore I’d never do that. Never love anyone. I shouldn’t love anyone. I know I don’t deserve her, but I just couldn’t help myself.

Her tornado-like personality sweeps people up, and it was so powerful, it drew me in so that I wanted to kiss her and touch her and make her mine.

Please baby, please, stop crying.

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

My eyes flare open, and my body spasms. Terror surge through my veins as I slam into the floor. Not the floor, a bed. My brain registers white sheets, fluorescent lights, incessant beeping—a sharp pain sliced through me. I try to scream, but something in my mouth and down my throat pushed air into my lungs instead.

“Drake.” A voice in my head. Soft and sweet. “Drake, look at me.” The voice is outside my head. I reach for it. I need it more than air. Lexie? I try to turn my head.

“Easy, now.” A man’s voice. Authoritative. Hands push me down at the shoulders. “Calm down,” he says. “That’s it. Don’t fight the machine.”

I try to inhale and exhale, but I can’t control my breathing. All the while, fluorescent lights come and go—my eyes. I’m opening and closing my eyes. I’m in here. This is me. The pain. Holy fuck, the pain. A red-hot sledgehammer to my right arm.

“Drake,” Lex says. Warm fingers fold around my hand. “It’s all right. Try to lie back.” Slowly my brain put things together. A bed with white sheets and beeping machines. This is a hospital. And Lex is here.

“Lexie,” I say. Or try to. The fucking tube in my mouth and down my throat blocks the word. I gag as more air pushes in.

“I’ll call the attending,” says the man, who must be a nurse. “Just stay with him. Keep talking and help get him oriented.”

Stay with me, my Lexie. Forever. My eyes fight hard to stay open. A plastic tube and white tape obscure my vision, but through and around it, I see her. Standing over me with brown hair falling down around her shoulders. Like a beautiful, peaceful dream after a long, dark night.

“Hey, Walker,” she says softly. Her little fingers intertwine with mine; her other palm runs smoothly over my forehead. “You’re all right. Just listen to my voice.” Her touch is so soft on my head. “You’re on a ventilator. Okay? It’s breathing for you. Try not to fight it. I’m right here. Keep listening to me. The respirator is to help you breathe until you come out of the sedation. That’s all.”

I wink again, unable to do anything else. Lexie reaches out her hand and caresses my cheek. I move my eyes and see Li and Savvy behind her.

My eyes fall shut in intense relief. My best friend and my little sister. Memories of safety and love from my childhood play on fast-forward—scraped knees and the time I fell from the treehouse. They were there for me. Over their shoulders, I see Bertrand and Max smiling. Savvy is here, Lexie is here, and Liam is all right. Everyone is.

“Hey there, Drake.” A tall man in a white coat is at the side of the bed now. “I’m Dr. Lahela. Let’s take a look at you…” He shines a light in my eyes. “You’re a very lucky man, Mr. Walker. You’ll need some physical therapy for your arm, but you’ll be fine.”

Alexis takes my hand and squeezes it. “You better never scare me like this again, Walker.” Her voice finally breaks. “I can’t live without you, Drake. Please, don’t do that again.”

I can’t talk, so I look at her trying to compel everything I feel for her. I treasure every shy smile, every kiss, every single laugh. I love her, and I don’t care if I deserve it or not. I’m never letting her go.

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

One Year Later

The day is finally here. I’m not one for nerves and that bullshit, but there’s no ignoring the tightness in my chest as I walk down the street. Even though I have the address memorized, I recheck my phone to verify that I’m at the correct address. It’s there in my text messages, the location Lexie sent.

We’ve been together for more than a year, and sometimes I’ll get texts like these. Lexie loves to be spontaneous. I never know if I’m going to show up and find some dark bar where she wants me to fuck her in the bathroom… or if it’s going to be this really fucking cool bookshop where we’ll linger for hours, talking about books before she eventually buys both our favorites.

Those dates mean everything to me. I love the sex—fucking love the sex—but Lexie is a world into herself, and I could spend the rest of my life exploring her and still not know everything there is to know.

Today’s different, though

It’s not just any day, not just any date.

It’s been a year since the attack.

I touch the box in my pocket, take a deep breath, and push through the doors and into the restaurant. After a quick word, the hostess leads me up a set of stairs to the roof. I shake my head as I look around.

Lexie does nothing halfway.

The roof isn’t huge, but there is a gazebo in the middle that I’m nearly certain isn’t there during regular events. A small bar has been placed in the side, and the rest of the space is cleared of tables and chairs. It will just be us tonight.

She’s leaning against the railing and looking out across Portavira. We’re high enough to have a decent view of the sea. Personally, I only have eyes for her.

She’s wearing flat sandals and a stunning red dress; it clings to her body all the way down to her knees before flaring out. I will never know how she walks in the damn thing, but I appreciate how good her ass and tiny waist look on it as I walk over and lean against the railing next to her.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have me jumping on a plane to find you this time.” Something she occasionally does. She loves to travel. And I love her: ‘Surprise, I’m in Athenes, come get me’ texts.

“I did consider it.” Lexie turns to me with a grin. Her mouth is painted a crimson shade identical to her dress. Fuck, the woman is so beautiful it makes my chest ache. Not just her face. All of her, inside and out. She bumps me with her elbow. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I love you.”

Her sexy grin turns into a full on smile that lights up her entire face. “You’re such a guy. All it takes is a short dress and a red lipstick.” She teases.

“It’s not that.” I take her hand and tug her toward the table set up for us. As we walk over, I study her expression. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.” Lexie catches my raised eyebrow and sighs. “Look, this day is never going to be easy for me. I thought I lost you, but I promise I’m okay.” She hesitates. “How are you holding up?”

I answer her honestly. “I’m fine. I know this was a horrible day to you, but I barely remember anything.” I take Lexie’s hand and brush my mouth over her knuckles. “So, why’d you pick this place?”

She looks around, the light wind pulling at her silky hair. “It’s romantic.” She turns her hand in mine to lace our fingers together. “We’ve both been working a lot lately. While I fully intend to take you home, so you fuck my brains out, I thought it’d be a nice change of pace to have a nice Italian dinner first.” She smiles. “And this place has a cool seasonal menu.”

The bartender delivers drinks that Lexie must have ordered for us—both Macallan’s 18 years. We order and then sip in silence for a few moments. I shift the ring box, an ever-present reminder of what I plan for tonight at the beach.

I’m not used to feeling off-center. I sure as fuck have wasted too much time doubting myself. I do not doubt that I love her wildly. That she’s the woman for me. It’s her answer that frightens me.

And I’m still not sure tonight is the night for this.

“Drake.”

I realize I’ve been spacing out and grimace. “Sorry. What did you say?”

Lexie leans in, her expression going playful. “I said, ‘Is that a box in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?’”

I follow her gaze down to where the square is very plainly in view pressed against the slacks of my front pocket. “Well, fuck.”

Her eyes go wide. “Seriously? It’s not earrings or a bracelet or something?”

I pull the box out of my pocket, and I’m fucked up to realize my palms are sweaty. Jesus fuck, this is not how I planned to do this, but here we are. “It’s not earrings or a necklace, no.” I set the box on the table between us and take a breath. This might not be how I planned to go about things, but that doesn’t mean a fucking thing. Very little goes to plan when Lexie is involved; that’s one of the things I love most about her. I’ve learned to roll with the punches.

I take Lexie’s hands and hold her gaze.

“That night, I was terrified. When I saw that gun aimed at you, I thought I might lose you. And I can’t live without you.” Fuck, this is harder than I expected. It’s not the opening myself up that’s so challenging. No subject is off-limits with us. It’s more that I want the perfect words to describe how I feel, and I’m shit at words. I’m not a damn poet. I’m just me, and just me will have to be perfect because she deserves nothing less than perfection. “This year has been really fucking good, O’Brien. Every time I think I can’t love you more, you go and prove me wrong. I love the adventures and shit we get into together, just like I love the long afternoons we spend with takeout and movies and board games and shit. And the lazy mornings in bed. I love it all.”

I release one of her hands to open the box. It’s an heirloom, but it meant so much to my grandmother, I hope she likes it. Lexie deserves perfect. It’s a single ruby against a simple setting that lets the gem stand on its own.

Lexie stares at it for a long moment and then at me. “Drake, that’s so perfect.”

“You’re one hell of a woman.” I don’t move, barely breathe. “Will you marry me, Lexie?”

She screams and throws herself at me. “Of course I will.” Her lower lip quivers a little. “Damn, you’re going to make me cry after saying all those sweet, perfect things.” She holds still while I slip the ring onto her finger. She holds it up, smiling at the way it glints in the city lights. “A perfect fit.”

“Just like us.”

“Just like us,” she repeats. A heartbeat passes. Another as I try to rein myself. Then I lean down, take her face in my hands, and kiss her desperately like she’s the last thing I’ll ever taste. I kiss her with the power surging through my veins, with all the strength of my desire and happiness over this day. With all the want that’s burning through me—want of more than just her body. Everything I long for, everything I hold precious, I pour into her mouth—and my Lex responds beautifully. Her arms twine around my waist, pressing her soft belly against me. I’m so damn hard, I just want to push myself against her until she spreads her legs and lets me in. Instead, I slide my tongue into the softness of her mouth. She gasps. It makes me smile around her lips, knowing that I can make my girl gasp with just a slip of my tongue. I explore her slowly, wrapping an arm around her back and cradling her head, so when I thrust my tongue into the hot, soft sanctuary of her sexy mouth, she doesn’t have to work to stay upright. I kiss her soft and slow, and longer, harder until she’s gasping and my hand is slowly caressing her neck. Her back is pressed against the rail, and I’m thrusting against her. She’s rocking against me, too, and I stop. I see the waitress coming. We’ll have to wait a few hours until we’re together at the cabin, and I have time to explore every inch of her. Even if I know, it will never be enough.

She’s blushing, and it’s so fucking adorable I want to kiss her all over again. “You know, for a guy who says you’re not good with words, that was one hell of a proposal.”

“I just love you so fucking much, baby.”

“That’s why I’m going to marry you.” She hooks the back of my neck and brings me down for a kiss.

Lexie leans back and meets my gaze. “I don’t suppose you’re thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should pay the tab, get the food to go, and take it back to our cabin.”

“A man after my own heart.” She kisses me again, sweeter this time. “I love you, Drake Walker. So fucking much. I can’t wait to marry you.”

#axwalker writes #trraw2021 #drake walker #drake x lexie #drake walker fanfic #trr fanfic #tw shooting #drake x mc #drake walker x mc

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jesswritesthat · 4 years

Note

hellooo can i request smth w nishinoya please 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 so he meets y/n in the park bc shes tryna learn how to skateboard for the first time and he sees her fall and is like OMGKDKSKSK ARE U OKAY (she is, she was wearing knee pads and shit) anyways so they become friends and hang out and then start dating and NOBODY on the team believes noya bagged a cutie bc she’s super smart and studious but she’s lowkey so chaotic and loves trying new things (hence her new years resolution to learn to skateboard am i basing this off me you’ll never know) and she’s always dragging him out to new places in miyagi, maybe they even catch trains to tokyo and stuff omg ANYWAYS she goes to another school but noya and tanaka have exams soon and noya’s like “my gf is super smart!! and organized! she’ll help!!!) and they acc meet her there and she’s super friendly and cracks jokes so noya and tanaka are like “this will be a BREEZE” but she does NOT fuck around w school so she flips a switch like “how do you NOT have a schedule for your exams??? omg how do you keep organized??” tanaka and noya: “👀👁👁 we don’t,,,” and she won’t slack off w noya just bc they’re dating KFKSKSKS. bonus points if she has a notion account bc i’m obsessed w organizing everything in my life w mine, it’s acc an issue. ofc no pressure bc this is SUPER long, headcannons or drabble is all up to you babes!! ❤️

A/N: Omgggg yes! I freaking love Nishinoya, this is a cute request I’m loving it. I hope your skateboarding is going well and OH WOW I wish I could be as organised as you. Gifted anon.

>>>>——————————>

Meeting and Studying with Nishinoya Yū Headcanons:

• Resolutions. This was it, you were going to stick to this one. Hence why you warily balanced on a skateboard about to plummet to your doom - it'll be fine...

• Until your board went scuttling across the pavement leaving you in it's dust, with no intention of returning, much to your aggravation.

"WOAH ARE YOU OKAY?! ARE YOU HURT - THAT WAS A TRIP AND A HALF! A-" It was probably the loudest voice you'd heard, with a blonde tuff hovering over you in seconds.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, please calm down!"

• With an apologetical smile, the boy pulled you to your feet, introducing himself as Nishinoya Yū. A contrastingly shyer tone than that previously, including the heat rising on his features.

"Sorry, I saw you fly and panicked, then I actually saw you and..."

"And...?" You parroted, brushing yourself and kneepads off with a lazy smile.

"And I thought you seemed nice, can't have a nice person getting hurt, right?"

• Now you’ve actually met, you start noticing each other a lot more since he trains on the court near the skatepark. Nishinoya will offer a greeting or wave as he passes, not being brave enough to imitate conversation yet but you both work up to that.

• Eventually you meet up after you’ve finished skateboarding and Volleyball respectively, or assist the other in their independent practices once you grow comfortable. He’ll hold you to balance on the board, in return you throw balls for him to receive/dig.

• The sparks of romantic connection are there and soon your hangouts begin to mirror dates, just without the classification. You’ll do things outside of the park, like getting food or venturing to some cool place one of you had heard of.

• It's an adventure everyday with him, you were known to explore the streets of Miyagi - you'd found all of the skateparks, dropped into Ukais' store every so often much to his 'annoyance' and even got yourselves train passes.

• His team honestly do not believe him, even if the lovestruck grin he wears whenever he speaks of you is eerily convincing.

Asahi give him the benefit of the doubt, hence why he and Tanaka are the first to see a picture of you. Hinata also trusts in his Senpai, and Ukai begrudgingly confirms your existence having met you.

• Ōsaka? Been there. Yokohama? The dock has an amazing view. Tokyo? Some of the best Cafés in Japan. You could tell he had a sense of adventure, and you doubted Japan would keep him for long.

• It wasn't unusual for Nishinoya to come in with weird snacks or mementos for the team.

"Eh? Noya, where'd you get this?" Tanaka questions his bright friend, the item foreign of Miyagi garnering his attention.

"(Y/n) and I went to Tokyo the other day!"

"Without me?!" It seems you had a self-proclaimed Third Wheel™ on your hands now. You didn’t mind, his friends were pretty amazing.

• They first properly hear/met you when Karasuno are planning for exams, and Tanaka, Nishinoya, Kageyama and Hinata are the main concerns due their lack of academic prowess - Noya is a sparkling ray of sunshine though.

"We got this Ryuu! My partner is super smart, and can help us study!"

"Have I ever told you how glad I am that you met (Y/n)?"

• Nishinoya calls you in the midst of chaos, voice all too happy to hear yours with the echoes of Karasuno muttering greeting in the background.

"Hey gorgeous! Think you could help Tanaka and I study? I'll buy your favourite foods as a thank you!"

"Yeah, it'll be useful for me too."

"(Y/N)-CHAN SAID YES!"

An array of cheers swarmed the phone causing you to wince, it's not like you were getting married but clearly the grades of these two were a problem.

• Nevertheless, the pair rocked up to your house with more snacks than study material - a twitch of your eye sent to them in disbelief. It only gets worse when you set up and ask about their preparations.

• "You... you don't have an exam schedule?"

"Nope~" They're far to gleeful about it and it's setting you on edge, honestly your heart is spasming at how uncoordinated they are. With no worries about it.

"Then how do you stay organised?"

A moment of silence passes, the two noting the pensive shift in atmosphere and meet your unnerved gaze with blank stares.

"...We don't...?"

• The slam of your head hitting the desk made them jump, a pained groan escaping as you took a much needed deep breath. This is gonna be tough.

• Nishinoya is quick-thinking, so he innocently leans in to kiss you as a distraction and a reward once you get on with the study session. Only, you whip out of the way so fast, the boy nearly face-plants the floor.

"(Y-y/n)?! What the heck was that for?" He’s pouting at you, puppy eyes sent your way as he catches himself whilst you simply sigh.

"No kisses until we're done studying."

"None? Like at all?! How am I gonna survive?"

"HAHA you got rejected SO HARD!" Tanakas laughter echoes around the room, the Spikers hand slapping your table in amusement.

"I don't recall you finishing your page either Tanaka-san." An expectant brow is raised his direction, a quick awkward cough sputtering from him with Nishinoya issuing a subtle smug smirk.

"...no, I'm - uh, I'm doing it..."

• You’ve set them up Notion accounts to keep themselves in check whilst you’re not around because honestly, you lacked the trust they’d do it themselves. They’re grateful though, hence the array of snacks/flowers (and screenshots of their revision) you received.

• Boys ACE their exams and come bombing into you after school thanking you and praising your organisation skills like a shrine. Then Yū catches you off guard with an excited kiss to your lips.

"You owe me~"

Yeah he's kinda right, and how could you deny?

• The whole Volleyball team is apparently really proud. Daichi politely requests if you could help Hinata and Kageyama too - but Yū swoops in promising to spare them. Or keep you to himself. It’s undecided...

• Either way, he’s all too glad to treat you to a trip to Tokyo - having found this cool Cat Café or skatepark online, the choice is yours. It’s his personal way of saying thank you for just being you.

Of course, Tanaka saw one of the pictures you posted and proceeded to text.

[ Without me?! 😫]

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yuu headcanons #nishinoya yuu x reader #nishinoya x reader #hq nishinoya #nishinoya yū #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu headcanons #anime x reader #anime headcanons #haikyuu imagines

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olliedollie1204 · 5 years

Text

magic touch

Pairing: Romantic Moceit

Word Count: 1,322

so @emo-disaster asked for moceit, i was going to send this premise as an ask, but the more i thought about it the more i wanted to add to it, so... tada! my first bullet fic! hope y’all like it, love u mwah

so patton is obvi a v physically affectionate person

deceit is,,, less so

at least at first

here’s how that changed

it’s in the pining period, before the two of them got together

and deceit comes to a realization

the realization being... he kinda likes when patton... touches him?

no not like that remus

but like

patton throws an arm around his shoulder, casual and quick, and deceit lets him

patton grabs his hand, gives it a squeeze because something exciting and wonderful has just happened, and deceit lets him

patton ruffles his hair on the one single occasion patton sees him without his hat, and deceit lets him

deceit may or may not go without his hat again in the hopes that patton will repeat the gesture

and deceit doesn't realize how much he likes the touch

until it goes away

just for a few days!! maybe patton has to work overtime to help thomas w something, idk

but deceit's suddenly very aware of how. warm and soft and comforting and gentle patton is.

and he misses it?

even though he's not gone, just busy

but deceit would rather die before he asks patton to stop working to, what, come cuddle him?

that’s ridiculous

(he wants patton to cuddle him, tho. he wants to v v bad)

‘but NO’ deceit says to himself, ‘of COURSE i don't need that, i didn't need it before and i don't need it now’

liar liar pants on fire

so deceit hunkers down, does his own stuff for a few days

but he can’t stop wondering why he feels so pent up and tense and irritated

meanwhile

patton's a little worse for wear himself

he's worn out and tired from working so hard recently

and he wouldn't mind some physical affection?

but he knows that's not deceit's thing and he doesn't wanna pressure him

(he’d never, ever wanna pressure him)

so when he finally gets a break, a night to himself, some time alone to relax and recuperate from all his work

he tiptoes to deceit's room

telling himself he's content with just saying hi and good night

and ‘i love you’

but patton doesn’t want to pressure him

so he knocks on deceit’s door

nothing

knocks again

nothing

he pushes a little harder on the door with his knuckles, and-

and it swings open

like maybe deceit was leaving it open for someone

so patton steps in

deceit’s at his desk, his back to the door

no hat, no capelet

just simple pajamas and big noise cancelling headphones on his head

‘did he steal those from virgil?’ patton wonders idly

he did

patton takes a few steps toward him

“hi, dee”

deceit’s hands are flying over the keyboard, patton almost couldn’t even hear himself over the click-clack of the keys

patton gets a bit closer, tries again

“deceit?”

still nothing

patton is standing right behind him now

patton can smell his shampoo from here

patton can’t explain why he does what he does next

patton lifts his hand

and places it flat on deceit’s back, right between his shoulderblades

... deceit.exe has stopped working

what that looks like is this: deceit’s fingers suddenly spasm, like he started to clench his fists but froze halfway through, and his perfect typing suddenly stops, the last line of text now riddled with typos and incomprehensible keysmashes

it was less than a second, but it could’ve been years

patton feels the subtle shift of tense muscles underneath his palm

deceit feels a sudden warmth that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up

the next second, and the moment passes

patton pulls away, all “i’m sorry!” and “i didn’t mean to interrupt you” and “i just wanted to see you, to say hi, to say goodnight, to say-”

deceit isn’t listening

deceit is spinning around in his desk chair

deceit is leaping up to grab patton’s wrist

gently, gently, so gently

deceit is pulling patton into him

deceit

and

patton

are

hugging

...

‘he’s hugging me?’ patton thinks, the one thought his brain can create in this moment of shock

‘i’m hugging him?’ deceit thinks, the one thought his brain can create in this moment of humiliation

honestly, ‘hugging’ is generous

it’s more like deceit has wrapped his arms around patton’s neck

his face has fallen onto his shoulder

just absolutely clinging to him, really

the snake jumped out

and deceit is... so embarrassed

but he can’t make himself let go

and then

deceit still can’t believe this

and then patton

hugs

him

back

???

DECEIT.EXE HAS STOPPED WORKING

patton doesn’t say anything

(patton is having trouble remembering how to breathe, let alone how to form words into coherent sentences)

instead patton finally manages to raise his arms

wraps them so tightly around deceit’s torso

leans forward to smell that shampoo up close

it’s eucalyptus, if you’re wondering

like second nature, patton rubs his hands up and down deceit’s back

he’s warm and soft and comforting and gentle

... oh my god, deceit has missed this so much

at some point, one of patton’s hands rises to card through deceit’s hair and he almost whines out loud at how good it feels

patton scratches his nails very softly against deceit’s scalp

deceit does whine out loud, actually

it’s illegally adorable

that little noise is enough to break the spell

deceit pulls his head back

he hopes beyond hope that his blush isn’t visible in the half light of his room

it is but patton doesn’t mention it

“um” deceit says

“sorry about. that”

eloquent as ever

patton blinks

“why sorry?”

“because” deceit starts

he doesn’t finish

because he realizes two things

the first realization: his arms are still wrapped around patton

(a distressing observation, to be sure)

the second realization?

patton’s arms are still wrapped around deceit as well

(less distress, more confusion)

“dee?”

patton’s face inches away from his

patton’s eyes sparkling even in the dark

patton’s... lips-

...

deceit is kissing him

deceit is... kissing. Him.

... huh

...

... oh! oh, he should be kissing back!

so patton kisses deceit back

and they kiss

and they... wow, still kissing, huh?

ok let’s jump forward a bit

patton has changed into some of deceit’s pajamas

(he could’ve conjured his own but they both sorta pretend to forget that fact)

(because deceit’s sleep shirt absolutely swallows patton)

(and it makes patton feel really good)

(and it makes deceit feel really good)

and patton has asked once more if deceit is sure he doesn’t mind if patton sleeps in their

“i mean, it’s your room, i don’t wanna impose, just say the word and i’ll leave-”

“patton we just made out for 20 minutes, don’t you think if i wanted you gone i’d have said so sooner?”

(deceit is being extra snarky to hide the fact that his blush has somehow not died down in the slightest)

(patton sees right through him so it’s ok)

so eventually they manage to get into bed together

no not like that remus

and there’s just like. a few beats of awkwardness

because even tho they’re *~going steady~* they’ve obviously never really done anything like this before

and deceit doesn’t wanna seem needy

and patton doesn’t wanna seem pushy

so they literally take it inch by inch

patton: *brushes his pinky against deceit’s*

deceit: *grazes the back of patton’s hand with his knuckles*

like i’m talking glacier pace

but they’re smiling and giggling (and yes, deceit, blushing) like little kids

so deceit finally works up the nerve to push his back against patton’s chest

and patton finally works up the courage to wrap his arms around deceit’s torso

and it’s like two pieces of a puzzle have just clicked in place

because

surprise surprise

turns out these motherfuckers love to cuddle

and the rest is history

edit: now with art to go with it!! thank you star!!

#sanders sides #patton sanders #deceit sanders #moceit #my posts #my writing

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 4 years

Note

Hi do you think u can do a Roman Godfrey imagine where they are dating and y/n is a good innocent girl but freaky with Roman and her parents want to Roman over for dinner Roman wants to piss off her dad and does subtle things to annoy him like touching y/n at the end of the night when they are saying goodbye at his car they have a heated make out sesh and Roman knows her dad is looking through the window so spices it up a bit

Of course! I will always remember you, Anon, as the first person to make a request ❤ I really hope you enjoy! Being the first request I’ve had, it might flop lol. But I hope this is at least close to what you had in mind!

Warning: Slightly NSFW

~~~~~~~~~~

Having such a sweet personality made everyone think you were innocent and you were, for the most part. Roman was one of many people who thought this, comparing you to Shelley or Letha levels of innocence.

But when Roman decided he wanted to play games with you, he was shocked to find out you could play games just as well as he could.

After getting to know you some, he quickly realized that the sweet innocent side to you actually wasn’t a front like some people faked. You were genuinely caring, and probably the sweetest person he’d ever met besides Shelley.

But something about Roman could make even the most angelic human on earth act like a demon behind closed doors once in a while.

Roman definitely brought out your wild side, not in a bad way either. He surely got you to come out of your shell.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always been sweet and you knew that’s how you wanted to live. But you’d admit, it was fun letting loose with one of your favorite people. Not having to worry so much about consequences and such.

Yours parents were bewildered and astonished that their sweet little girl could date someone so...not like you. They didn’t know how to react when you told them, especially your mother.

Your father however, organized his feelings pretty quickly. The first thing he wanted to do was find Roman, kill him, and feed him to the family dog.

But instead, he asked you to invite Roman over for dinner.

Now if it was literally anyone else, even the Rumancek boy, you wouldn’t feel as panicked to invite them over. But knowing Roman, you knew it had no chance of ending well.

But you couldn’t exactly say no to your loving parents. You knew they just wanted to protect you, even if it was unbearably annoying.

You internally groaned when you saw Roman smirked evilly when you asked him to have dinner with the ‘rents.

You told him and made it very clear that your father already did not like him, but he only responded with, “I’m not gonna let an old man scare me away from being with you.” Then giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before walking off to find his sister.

Off to a fabulous start...

Roman already knew how he was going to act at your place as soon as you told him to behave. He wasn’t one to take orders, even from you. He wasn’t going to be disrespectful per say, but definitely wasn’t going to be intimidated by some old guy. Even if he was your father.

Getting ready for the dinner was nerve wracking already. Your palms were already starting to sweat slightly, heartbeat irregular, some of your nervous ticks sticking out like a sore thumb.

Your mother noticed this of course, you smoothing down your blouse to the point of your hands turning a soft pink was a clue indeed.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ve already convinced your dad to kill him quick and painlessly if he chooses to go that route.” She joked, showing a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Ha ha, not funny.” You huffed.

You almost screamed in terror when the doorbell rang twice. Roman had already texted you that he was on his way, but you were so nervous that anything could’ve spooked you at this point.

“I’ll get it!” You quickly voiced, running to the front door.

You opened the door, revealing the man you’re so fond of. His hair was slicked back and his mouth upturned in his usual smirk that made your knees go weak.

“Hello, my dearest.” He smirked, leaning over to give you a kiss but you quickly dodged it, making him place his lips on your cheek instead. “It’s gonna be that type of dinner then.” He hummed disappointedly.

You chuckled softly. “Not when my parents are just five feet away from us.”

Roman rolled his green eyes. “Fine.”

You brought Roman into the kitchen where your mother was currently doing some finishing touches on the main course. “Mom, this is Roman.” You introduced.

You could tell your mother was wary at first, eyeing him up and down subtly. “It’s so good to finally meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N.” He smiled warmly, reaching out his hand.

Roman’s charm quickly put your mother’s worries at ease, her giving a similar warm smile and taking his hand for a tender handshake.

“The Godfrey kid here?” You heard your father’s unnecessarily booming voice call out, promptly entering the door frame of the kitchen.

You turned around to see your father’s stoic face and almost laughed. Your father was a pretty joyful man, so seeing him play up the role of protective papa bear was a sight to see.

“Dad, this is Roman.” You said, a more obvious nervousness to your voice than before.

Roman did the same thing before. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Y/L/N.” Reaching his hand out with a smile.

“You can call me Sir, little Godfrey.”

“Dad...” You whined.

Roman only smiled, laughing it off. “Yes, sir.” He said, a slight annoyance in his voice. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and you could feel the anger by how hard he was gripping you.

You could see your father fixate his glare on his hand that was around you, and you immediately got the hint, gently removing Roman’s arm. “Dinner’s ready! Right, mom?” You voiced suddenly, trying desperately to break some of the tension.

“Uh, yeah! Pretty much!” Your mother grinned.

“Yay! Let’s go!” You exclaimed, pretty much dragging your parents and Roman to the dining room table.

Despite your nerves being through the roof, the smell of delicious food eased it just a tad.

Until Roman started to act up. Wearing a skirt was definitely a bad idea. The whole night was a bad idea, but oh well, couldn’t change it now.

While a friendly conversation between Roman and your mother started, he placed a hand on your exposed knee.

It was innocent as first. He always had been a touchy feely type and usually it didn’t advance any further than that unless he wanted sex, so you didn’t really think anything of it.

Then you felt his hand slowly trail up your thigh, moving the delicate fabric out of the way.

You looked at Roman with a subtle glare. You balled up your fist in anger when he only gave you a playful wink.

You stopped his hand from moving any further, but he really only saw it as a challenge.

While you were struggling not to make a noise or squirm in your seat, Roman was carrying on the conversation effortlessly.

Roman finally won, reaching the spot that was aching for his touch against your better judgement.

You gasped softly, quickly covering it up with a cough. “Chicken’s a bit dry, ma.” You chuckled nervously, trying to squeeze your legs together.

Roman gave you a questioning look, feigning innocence. “I think it’s perfect, Mrs. Y/L/N. Probably the best home cooked meal I’ve had in, well, ever.” He chuckled.

Roman suddenly hit that perfect spot, causing you to spasm and slam your fist on the table. “Suck up.” You coughed out.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your mother asked with concern.

“Yeah, you good babe?” Roman asked, putting the emphasis on babe and faking concern.

Your father was less than pleased, glaring at Roman with such intensity that could scare most people away, but Roman just smirked,

“I’m alright!” You almost shouted. “Just suddenly not feeling well is all! Think I just had some bad cafeteria food.” You forced a laugh.

“That’s why I’ve said to always take your own lunch!” Your mother said, unknowingly saving you from being center attention.

The rest of the dinner went, well...it went.

Being teased by Roman most of the time, you were almost overjoyed when the night was finally coming to an end.

“Again, the food was fantastic.” Roman told your mother, kissing her hand, her smiling in reply.

Roman turned and kissed you on the cheek, just close enough to graze your lips. Then he turned back to your father, who’s glare never left Roman. “It was nice to meet you...sir.”

You bit your lip, waiting to see if this was the moment your father was going to finally snap. “Was nice to meet you too...Mr. Godfrey.” He said, basically gritting his teeth and holding his glare.

“Okay...well...time to go!” You said, almost pushing Roman out the door.

As soon as the door closed, Roman let out a hearty laugh. “Your old man is really something!” He put his hand over his chest while continuing to laugh, leaning against his red convertible to keep himself from doubling over.

You only glared at him. “Roman.”

“What?” Roman asked, wearing a cheeky grin. “Oh! Are you jealous that I kissed your mom’s hand? Milfs aren’t my type, darling.” He chuckled, but stopped once he realized you didn’t find what he was saying funny. “You have your father’s glare.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “I can’t believe you. I specifically told you to behave!” You fussed.

“Oh, really? Your soaked panties told me otherwise.”

You blushed, biting your lip in frustration, then letting out a tiny laugh. “I hate you...” You smiled lovingly.

Roman straightened himself out and beckoned you over with his pointer finger. And like a magnet, you gravitated towards him and into his arms.

You loved Roman’s hugs.

While still enveloped in his arms, from the corner of his eye, Roman saw someone watching the two of you at the window. He smirked when he saw that it was your father.

Being the little shit that he is, Roman pulled away from the wholesome hug and brought his lips down to yours, devouring you in a not so wholesome kiss.

You were shocked at first, but soon relaxed into it, now not having to worry about your parents seeing.

But your father was, and Roman knew that, causing him to deepen the kiss just to spite him.

Feeling Roman’s tongue massage against yours felt heavenly, making you let out an involuntary moan.

Roman opened his eyes to peek to see if your father was still at the window, and to his amusement, he was.

Roman knew he was testing his luck, but that was part of the fun. He brought his hand up to your throat and squeezed gently, while the other hand was brought down harshly on your ass with a loud smack.

You squealed happily, loving the feeling of his hands on you. But you knew it was time for him to leave, so you pulled away.

You smiled when you saw how swollen his lips were. “Alright, Casanova. Time for you to go.” You voiced, bringing your mouth just below his ear. “I’ll come by your place later.” You whispered seductively and pulled away.

“As much as I’d love that, I have a feeling sneaking out won’t be so easy for you tonight.” He said, trying to hide a smile.

You furrowed your brows and smiled confusingly. “What makes you say that?”

“Tell your dad that it’s rude to stare.” Roman said, quickly getting into his car and driving away.

It’s rude to stare? What the hell does that mean?

Turning around to head back inside your house is when you finally realized what Roman meant. You saw your father glaring at you from the window, arms crossed and his face noticeably a shade of red.

Fuck...

~~~~~~~~~~

#hemlock grove #roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader

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hyunjilicious · 4 years

Text

The safest white - harry styles

Summary: When things with your abusive boyfriend reach a new level, Harry comes to the rescue. 5.7k Warnings: mentions of abuse. I hope you enjoy this! Please tell me what you thought! Your words make my day ❤

Never in your life had you thought you’d end up in a situation like this. Growing up, you got used to the idea of an ideal relationship, and for whatever reason, fell for the glamourized Hollywood look of the downs people went through as they fought for their partner. Real life hit you like a ton of bricks, put a cloth over your mouth and cut your legs from the knees down. Knowing you have to fight for what you want and know is right, even if faced with facts that contradicted your beliefs, you found yourself alone, screaming at nothing in the middle of a sea of darkness. Your own house. And you were screaming internally, because once again, you feared the man you used to call ‘love’. Droplets of sweat tickled your skin as they rushed down your sides, and your hands and feet, although cold, were damp too. You stood in the middle of the bedroom, facing the door. In some twisted way, you knew there was no chance for you to hide, so you stood there, ready take no more hits without hitting back. And harder. After pampering yourself with a pep talk, you ended up feeling quite confident. Confident that you’d get the fuck out of there with your head held fucking high, but it was a confidence that dissipated once the sound of your own phone ringing reached your ears. “Fuck” you mumbled to yourself, after you jumped out of fright. “No, no, no! Y/n. Get. Yourself. Together” You muttered these words through gritted teeth, repeating them over and over again, until the layer of unshed tears in your eyes became too thick and rushed down your cheeks, forcing you to fall to the ground. The impact made your knees sting, but the pain in your heart had already numbed every nerve ending in your entire body. You were at the edge of collapse, and you phone was still ringing. Wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt, you crawled over to the bed and picked up your cell, only to see Harry’s smiling face on his ID photo along with the pouting emoji you added to his name. It didn’t even take a moment’s worth of consideration before you pressed the red button and declined the call. Not that you had any power left in your body to communicate with another human right now, but you also knew that if it was something important, he’d also send a text, letting you know the matter was indeed urgent. And it came. The text came about 15 seconds later in real time, but for you, it was all a haze. Again, you didn’t think about it. If you declined his call and he still insisted, something must’ve been up. 'Love, I’m stuck at the studio for at least another hour and my mum is coming over’ 'She’ll be at my house in about 20 minutes’ 'If I leave rn I’ll have to come back tomorrow and I want to spend the day with her’ 'Can you go over there’ 'Let her in and hang out or something’ 'Or if you’re busy can she come to you and wait for me there?’

No, way. There was no way you could face his mother right now. She always saw right through your bullshit. Starting with when you and Harry were 18 and started denied your feelings for one another and up until this year, when she sensed something was off with you. When you saw her 2 months ago, it took you about 3 hours to convince her nothing is wrong with you for the sole purpose of keeping Harry out of your relationship. All it took for her to notice you weren’t comfortable with your boyfriend was the way you answered a question about his whereabouts. After that, you had to make up a whole story to prove to her she didn’t need to worry. And they say actors are good liars. You felt you were going to choke with every lie to told her, and frankly, you were surprised she believed you in the end. Maybe it was just how much she trusted you. Nevertheless, you weren’t the person for the job.

You stared at the messages on your phone, and breathed out from the deepest depths of your lungs. You hated that you couldn’t help him right now, but knowing at least 3 other friends of Harry's should be available, you locked your phone and fell back down, leaning against the side of the bed. The mere thought of Harry and Anne calmed you down a bit, but when you went back to reality, another wave of misery hit you. You still had to get out of there, but opening the door to your bedroom was probably the most frightening thing on your mind. There was not much time for you to gather your thoughts and plan your next move before your phone buzzed again. 'You hung up on me. I know u can see these. Everything ok??’ Instantly, you palm connected to your forehead as you rolled your eyes in disbelief. “How did he-” you muttered, unlocking your phone, to assure him you were ok. As it turned out, your text wasn’t enough to convince him you were good, so he called. But for this, you didn’t have the power. This time you didn’t bother to hang up, you turned off your phone completely and fell down onto the carpet. The minutes that followed were excruciating. That is if there was even a matter of minutes, your sense of time wasn’t even hazy anymore, it was gone altogether. The cries you tried to muffle out of fear Jack would hear you from the other room, created an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. If up until now it was all psychological, the spasming of your abdominal muscles were sure to force out everything you hadn’t eaten in the past two days. Just gastric acid was threatening to come up, but this feeling alone wasn’t enough to get you to stand up. By now, leaving the house wasn’t the problem anymore. It was the part of you that allowed yourself to be treated like trash that you didn’t know how to get rid of. At this point, the only thing you felt like doing was cracking your own chest open to rip out your heart and pick apart the broken parts. And not even that was good enough, you were afraid you’d be left with nothing. Since there was nothing you could do right now, you slowly stood up, and decided to head to the bathroom and clean yourself up in order to sneak out of the house. Messy hair and running mascara would draw attention to yourself on the street, and that was not something you could risk. As you walked across the bedroom, when you moved past the window, your eyes landed on Jack’s frame. He was sitting at the table in the back garden, drinking straight out of a bottle of Jack Daniels that was more empty than full. As messed up as that was, this sight gave you a rush of confidence. In this state, it was highly unlikely he’d hear you leave the house, and even if he did, you were positive you’d be able to outrun him. Once in the bathroom, the woman you saw in the mirror was not you. You refused to accept that you were in this state. It was a momentary lapse of character, from which you’d bounce back. You had to. In the shower, although feeling like you could break down all over again, you forced yourself to remain on track, and about 20 minutes later, you were back in your bedroom, putting on whatever clothes you found first. You checked the window. Jack was still there, scrolling on his phone. If you played your cards right, you could leave without your eyes landing on him again. You gathered your essentials - phone, charger, wallet, keys and whatever else you found completely necessary and walked over to the door, where you stopped. “I’ll take you less than three minutes to get to your car, Y/n” you whispered to yourself. “You can do this” You mumbled these words to yourself a few times, and when you raised your hand to open the door, the knob turned by itself and your heart fell two stories down. Already in overdrive, your adrenaline kicked in, sweating out of every pore as you instinctively looked for an object to use to defend yourself. All these defence mechanisms crumbled to the ground when you heard his voice. “Y/n?” because it was Harry, “Are yeh in here? Please, answer me!” You breathed out in relief, something you didn’t know you could feel again. You rushed to unlock the door, and he hurried inside at ungodly speed. “It’s Jack, ain’t it!?” he questioned with anger filled words, “I just got off with the phone with my mum, why didn’t yeh two say anything?” “I told her it was nothing” you mumbled, trying to avoid his eyes, but the way he held onto your cheeks made it impossible for you to look at anything else. “You did, yeah.” Harry nodded with despair, “And she believed yeh and now she’s blaming herself. Tell me. What happened? Where is he?” “God” you cried out and tried to lean your head back, but Harry stopped you and prompted you to look at him again. It worsened gradually, but by now, you barely managed to breathe properly as tears cascaded down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, hey” he breathed out, “Look at me, love. I’m here, ok? It’s over. I’m here. I got yeh” You tried to nod, but all you did was choke a sob and collapse into yourself, Harry barely managing to catch you. Holding you tight to his chest, he rocked you in his arms and rubbed the back of your head, “Its me, love. Its Harry”. He tried to chuckle, but pain was audible in his voice too. “Nothing will happen to yeh, ok? I swear on anything that I am, yeh're safe, yeah?” You wanted to nod, but when he moved his fingers up a bit across your scalp, you winced in pain, and he caught sight of it in an instant. “Did he hit you, Y/n?” he asked, pulling away to look into your eyes. You nodded no. For whatever reason, that was what you considered was the right answer. “Don’t lie to me, angel. Yeh don’ ever have to lie to me, ok?” “Ok” you muttered. “So did he?” “Yes..” And that was then the light in his eyes died. They started shining a particular type of darkness that terrified you to your bones. You froze. Your mind was too numb to act on your emotion, but when he brought you to his chest again, you finally realised your fear was unrooted. “Where is he?” Harry groaned in a deep tone. “Please, don’t” “I just want to talk to him” he fibbed. “Harry, I’m serious-” you cried, “Don’t do anything, I don’t want this anymore. I want it to be over. What if he tries to-” “Listen t' me, angel” he said sternly, looking straight into your eyes, “You’re crying. Shaking. I’ve never seen yeh like this. Ever. Not even close. Yer whole body shivered when I touched you. That man, hurt you. I don’t even want to think about what he actually did to you right now. Yeh’re the happiest, strongest woman I met in my entire life and he managed to bring you in this state. I won’t have that, ok? I won’t sleep again if doesn’t pay for this.” “Please, Harry” you whimpered, wiping some of your tears away. You placed your hands of top of his, and grabbed them tightly, “What if he does something to you, what if-” “Think about the girl that will come after you, hm? What about her? He’ll go on with his life thinking he doesn’t need to pay for his fucking demented behaviour, and she’ll walk straight into the lions den” “What if he hurts you?” “It won’t get to that, love. I’ll just talk to him. But I have to do this. I can’t not do it, you understand that, right?” After you reluctantly agreed, mostly because he wasn’t showing signs of giving up and you didn’t have it in you to fight him at that moment, you headed downstairs and he walked you to his car. Harry opened the door for you to climb in, but before that, you pressed yourself against him again, craving his touch and the feeling of safety it provided. “Oh, love” he sighed, rubbing your back. “I got yeh” You didn’t want to let him go, but you knew you had to. Eventually, you got into his car, but turned to him before closing the door. “You’re just gonna talk to him, alright?” you sniffled, “And then you’ll be right back, yeah?” “Yes, darlin’” Harry nodded and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be right back” And with that, he left. You watched him walk into the house, your eyes remaining trained on his back until he was out of sight. Not knowing what was going on was driving you insane. Your phone was surely not going to provide any kind of distraction, you felt out of place, like you were sitting on a pile of nails as a train was approaching you at full speed. But there was nothing for you to do about it. Going in and joining the conversation was sure to make things worse, for all of you. It hurt that the right thing to do was sit and wait, you hated it, but you had to be patient. In need of something you keep your mind busy, you opened the glove compartment, and started rummaging through the junk that had pilled up there over the past few months. Mostly napkins, candy wrappers, McDonald’s straws, and seemingly, irrelevant stuff. Eventually, you came across some other things, like your old phone case, which you ended up discarding after you bought a new one while you were shopping with Harry for a birthday gift. There was also there a bottle of perfume, the kind you’ve been wearing for years, and in this one, there was barely anything left. Jumping jacks were taking place inside your heart. You knew Harry was the kind of guy every girl deserved in her life, but you wanted him for yourself only. It was mostly junk, and useless little things anyone would have forgotten existed, but he kept them. It didn’t take long before you got lost in thought again, but in the end, you decided to ignore any rush feelings you might be having, taking into consideration the emotional break down you have just been through. “Hey, love” Harry’s voice filled the air inside his car, as he flung the door open and climbed in in one swift motion. “Did you talk to him?” “Yeah” he said distraught and nodded, before turning around in his seat to check if it was safe to pull out. “With my fists” Your eyes snapped to his knuckles. Skin cracked and little droplets of blood peaking to the surface. However, he gripped the steering wheel as if it was nothing, and kept his smile on. What was most surprising, but actually not quite, was that he looked genuinely relieved. You sighed, “H, what happened?” “Nothing, love. I got there fuming ready to beat the guy to the pulp. But he was drunk outta his mind. I stopped then, I promise. I told him what I had to say but I doubt he understood a word I said” he confessed, grabbing your forearm and giving it a squeeze. “You said you were only gonna talk to him…” “That’s what I was planning on, I don’t- I don’t know what- anyway-” he mumbled, in between ragged breaths, “We’ll deal with it, ok? You won’t ever have to see him again. And he’s fine. He deserved so much worse, but I’m- I’m uh, I’m not-” “Thank you” you whispered, looking down at your hands, knowing any moment now the tears would come back. “Yeh don’t need to thank me, angel. I should have known sooner, this should never have happened” “I know… I’m sorry” “What’re yeh sorry about?” Harry asked, eyes trained on the road ahead, “None of this is your fault” “Then whose is it?” you exclaimed, “Hm?” “Fucking his!!” You tried to change the subject, but all you managed to do was drop this one. Nothing else held. Nothing was of interest, and even if it was, the timing was wrong. There was no way you could have started talking about what movie you just saw, and Harry clearly didn’t feel like boasting to you about what a great time he’s been having with his friends and family. Needless to say, for about 10 minutes, it was you, Harry and the sacred uncomfortable silence. “Can you drop me off at a hotel please” you asked, cringing a bit at your own words. “No, why?” He was clearly surprised, if not offended. “I- uh” you mumbled, too ashamed to use a normal tone of voice. “It’s your mum, H. I can’t see her right now. I don’t want to talk about this anymore, nor do I want someone else to worry about me. I promise I’ll be better tomorrow, and I’ll come hang out. Get a coffee or something” “Is that the only reason you want to go to a hotel?” “Yeah…” “Perfect” Harry nodded, “She’s not at my place. Didn’t expect you to be in the mood for company. But you shouldn’t be by yourself. I can drop you off wherever ya want, but not if you’re gonna be alone”. He took your silence for an answer. “My place it is, then” And you got to his house, and even if you had been there millions of times before, you felt out of place. You were afraid he bought you here out of mercy or sympathy, despite what he had just said. The atmosphere was different, and for whatever reason, you didn’t feel like home. For years, his house and anywhere near him, you felt your safest, yet today, you were afraid anything you’d say or do would be out of place. “Yeh know how this works” Harry said, walking into the kitchen, “It’s your home too, don’t shy away” “I know” you chuckled, and it did sound fake and it was obvious he noticed, but none of you pointed it out. “Are you hungry? Want something to drink? Tea? We can order something-” “I’m fine, thanks though” you sighed, slowly advancing towards him. You leaned your hip against one of the counters, silently awaiting his next move. But he didn’t quite do anything, except change his expression into one of maybe confusion. This must have been hard for him too, you didn’t know what you needed to hear, how could he have possibly known what to say? “Do you wanna watch something?” you asked, wanting to relieve some of the pressure. To be fair, you were not in the mood to watch any movie, but you figured laying down next to him would be calming and an easy way to avoid unwanted conversation. “Yeah, 'course” Harry nodded. “Actually... Got any wine?” He seemed completely taken aback, but soon enough, he came back to reality, offering to get the alcohol while you picked something you wanted to watch. It wasn’t a difficult choice. Seinfeld was a sure option, since you both liked it and it required almost no concentration at all. Just as you laid down on his couch, Harry came back into the living room, two tall glasses in his hands, and a bottle of while under his arm. “Figured white wine was safer, dunno how much we’re gonna drink, and nothing is worse than a red wine hangover” “Just how drunk do you think I wanna get?” you laughed, taking the glasses from him. “As drunk as yeh want, love” Harry smiled, pulling out a corkscrew, “The choice is yours” “Just don’t let me start ranting or anything” “Yeah…” he cringed, sucking in a deep breath as he squinted his eyes, “Can’t promise yeh that. Ya know I’m a sucker fo’ yer drunken ramblings” “Oh shut up” you scoffed. “And why did you bring these?” you questioned, pointing to the glasses, “Don’t you know me at all? Or are you suddenly grossed out by my germs?” “When you put it like that, it sounds gross, yes” Harry laughed out loud, before clutching the corkscrew tight into his hand and opening up the bottle, “But still, I’d be happy to exchange germs with you” “Oh wow” “Wha'?” Harry belted, playfully offended, “Yeh started it!” “Well, it sounds so much worse when some else says it” None of you could ever win this. He came over to the couch and motioned for you to scoot over. During the first episode, you kept your distance, but as the minutes passed and as the level of wine slowly lowered, so did the space between your bodies. By the third episode, Harry was laying down on his back with his knees bent, as you leaned back against his calves. That was when you opened up the second bottle. Still white wine, still safe. Harry's words. Every now and then one of you would chuckle, and in case too much time would pass without one of you making a sound, the other would gently ask an “You asleep?” even though both your minds were way too busy to be able to relax enough to drift off. When you almost finished this bottle too, Elaine was throwing a fuss, in the middle of Jerry’s living groom over some guy she went to gym with. “He wiped his hand on the top of the bottle when I offered him water” she said offended through the TV screen, making you stand up and turn to Harry. “This is the universe, love” he laughed but instantly you shushed him, knowing what line was next. “Are you kidding?” Elaine said again, “He should be craving my germs!” And at that, you both burst into laughter. “I had no idea this was the episode” you barely managed to say in between your crazy giggles. “Is it a coincidence?” Harry smirked, “Think not!” “You’re drunk” “So are yeh!” he defended himself, as if it would change anything. “You know what else I am?” “What?” You picked up the bottle and finished whatever was left in it, and then turned to him with a proud smile on your face, “Ready for the third one” “Stand up” Harry commanded and pointed to the space right in front of the couch. “Why?” “Do three pirouettes and if yeh don’t stumble I’ll open another one” “Buzz kill” you pouted and slapped his legs, “No” “I’ll do it with you” he laughed, and when he stood up, you reluctantly did too. When he motioned for you to do the pirouettes, another smile crept up your lips, “At least put some music on if you want to see my moves” “Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” he laughed, walking over to his phone on the table, “Are we gonna dance in the living room like the crazy people in those sappy chick movies we used to watch?” “Why do you have to be an asshole?” you joked, leaning your head to the side. “Because-” was all he managed to say before the music turned on, making him stop talking as he silently laughed. “Why-” you exclaimed, “On Earth, were you listening to My Heart Will Go On? Is Harold in love?” “I have a good explanation!” Harry jumped to defend himself, pointing a finger at you, “I tried to learn it” “On guitar I hope” you teased. “Ha, very funny” “Oh my god, Harry!” you burst into laughter, “I’m assuming you nailed it on the first try” “Yess!” he threw his head back, cheeks all red, “Celine stand back, I’m coming for yer money” “What would it take to convince you to sing it to me?” “Sing it with me” Harry responded in an instant, and it might have been the alcohol, but it didn’t even take a second before you agreed. You both grabbed one of the empty bottles as microphones, and sang your hearts out. Even though Harry had the vocal capability to reach some of those notes and sing full verses correctly, nothing that came out of his mouth sounded right. And if you were to carefully listen to the atrocities that came out of yours, you’d feel the need to hide for a week to finally get rid of the embarrassment. But you didn’t care. And neither did he. Harry only got like this if he was in a truly good mood. He wasn't always bubbly and childish, especially not today after everything that happened, and you knew a bottle of wine wasn’t enough to awaken this side of him, but still, he danced his hips into exhaustion, providing you with all the good energy you didn’t think you could possibly get. Your performance ended when some Creedence song started, and you walked over and pressed yourself against Harry’s chest. Since you got to his house, you gradually started to feel better, but it all came so naturally, you literally had to stop and check in order to actually realize it. “Thank you” you mumbled into his shirt. “Don’t need to thank me, love” Harry said softly, rubbing your back, “Seeing you loosen up and smile makes me feel better too” His words warmed up your heart from the inside, and it was probably the amount of emotions that you felt in the last 12 hours that caused you to have so little self control, but your eyes watered. At that point, thinking someone’s happiness relied on yours, was too much for your mind to process. Especially considering that for the last few weeks, it had been quite the opposite. A lot of things came to mind. There were a lot of things you felt like saying to him. Somehow, you couldn’t escape the need to thank him again and again, you wanted to tell him how amazing he was, how much of a blessing he was. Right then and there you got emotional you wanted to rant your heart out, but in the end, you lacked the courage. For some reason, even though you had nothing but good things to say, you were afraid to do so, embarrassed even. “Still-” you said softly as you pulled away from his chest. Your eyes rose up to meet his, and he welcomed you with the same warmth he had been showing all day, “I don’t know how to exactly say this, but I know that there’s no one in my life who would have dropped everything and came to check up on me, but you did. And I know you don’t want to hear me thanking you again, but I’m so so grateful you’re in my life” you confessed, breaking into a light sob. The change of atmosphere was too sudden. He didn’t see this coming, and you didn’t know you wouldn’t be able to finish your statement without a cascade of tears streaming down your cheeks again. “Love” Harry cooed, grabbing your cheeks and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. The heat from his palms gave you a newfound sense of reality, forcing your thoughts to spiral again. “Y/n, I love yeh. So much. Yeh need to realize that someone taking care of you isn’t out of the ordinary” “It is for me, Harry” “I’ll fix yeh” he chuckled, and it was so weak, and his eyes cried because he had to do so. “And we can talk about it, or you can talk and I can listen, tonight, tomorrow, three weeks from now at 3am. Whenever yeh’re ready, I’m here for you, ok? I fucking love yeh so much, Y/n. Don’t push me away, because I’m here for you no matter what, ok? I want to be” His words, his tone of voice, calm but also disturbed and with traces of pain audible in it, the way his hooded eyes bore into yours, the way his chest rose and fell with every breath he took, was all too much. “I don’t wanna talk about it right now because I’m afraid I might say things I shouldn’t” “If you mean it, you have the right to say it. It’s that simple, love” he smiled reassuringly. You contemplated telling him how much you loved him and how it has been him all the time, but you were afraid he would put it on account of everything that had happened during the day, and that he would brush it off. The last thing you wanted was for Harry to believe your feelings for him weren’t solid. And on top of it all, up until a few hours ago you were in a relationship, and it felt wrong to admit that all this time you have been thinking of another man. “Maybe some other time” you finally said, pushing aside the topic and putting some distance between the two of you. “Whenever that may be” he nodded, “I’m here, yeah?” A whole pile of tangled emotions filled up your chest, and you needed an escape. A chance to put your thoughts in order before you said something you’d later regret. The wine was threatening to force out some confessions, and you decided a shower would be the perfect opportunity to delay them. You stayed in the bathroom for a questionable long time, but when you walked out, wrapped in a towel, Harry was still awake, watching the TV. He had laid on the bed some clothes of his for you to wear, and you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself when you finally understood why there were two shirts. The first one was neatly folded, but you didn’t really pay attention to it. The second one, a bit to the side, was obviously recently worn, so you didn’t think twice when you chose this one, the scent of his cologne tickling your senses. After putting the pair of sweatpants on too, you headed back to the living room, where Harry was comfortably laying down on the couch. He signaled for you with his arms open to join him, and you did so in an instant, cuddling into his chest. “There’s only a bit left of the game. 10 minutes tops. Mind if we watch this? I can put Seinfeld back on if you want to” “Oh, no. It’s ok.” you shook your head, “Just tell me who we’re rooting for” “The blue ones, love” Harry laughed kissing the top of your head. After you both shuffled a bit and settled back down in a more comfortable position, with his arms wrapped around you and your head buried into his neck, you only managed to comment on a few moments of the game before falling asleep. Next thing you knew, Harry was rubbing your arm up and down and whispering softly to get your attention. “Let’s go to sleep, Y/n” “No” you mumbled, turning your head so he couldn’t see your face. “Its much more comfortable, angel, I promise” he laughed. “I said no” you giggled back. “I’ll let yeh sleep here then” When he tried to pull away, you tightened your hold around his middle, “No” “Do you know any words other than no?” Harry laughed out loud. “No” His chest shook as he chuckled at your antics, “We’ll sleep here then” “Yess” you smiled and turned to face him again. He seemed amused, but even so, he looked down at you with awe in his eyes. After taking his shirt and his watch off, you both resumed your position on the couch, but this time, you had your back pressed against his chest. “I knew you were gonna chose this shirt” Harry spoke up a second after you closed your eyes, “But it’s weird because you smell like me now” “Harry?” you questioned, playing with his fingers, “Are there things you want to say, but you’re too afraid to?” It took a while before he answered, but you waited patiently. “Yeh mean in general?” “No” you said and squeezed your eyes shut, cringing in anticipation. “I mean now” This time he didn’t answer. Maybe he would have, but when you figured enough time passed, you turned around in his hold. If the answer was no, there would have been no reason for him to hesitate, so you took his silence for a yes. It was a risk you were willing to take. “Good night, Ni” you said and pressed your lips against his; it was hurried, it barely lasted for two short seconds but you put your soul into this kiss and it sent your heart into overdrive. After you pulled away, you turned around immediately and settled back into your spot. He was silent, not one of his muscles flinched. Maybe it was the wine. You shouldn’t have done that. You wanted to move. Not touch him anymore, never see him again. It felt like you ruined the best thing that ever happened to you, all because you couldn’t control yourself. And you were so close. You should have just laughed at his remark about the smell of his shirt and then go to sleep. Why wasn’t he saying anything? This was wrong, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Would yeh have done that if things with Jack happened differently? If they ended on good terms? Or if we weren’t drunk?” “Yes” you whispered, your voice cracking, “I wanted to do that for a long long time. But I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, forget it” “Will never” he said, and then brought you closer to kiss your neck, “And don’t be sorry” “I love you, Harry” “I love yeh”. He kissed your scalp and spoke into your hair, “The most”

Hey, guys! In case you read this far and thought this sounds similar (or maybe exactly the same) to another fic posted on here, it’s because I had previously uploaded it to another blog. It was a Niall imagine at first but then i was like hm... Harry! Anywayyyy i hope you liked this! Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you thought!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #1dff

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forcefully-awoken · 4 years

Note

hi em babe for erect the towers do u think u can do smth for mrs joke n pee n like whatever u wanna add to it is fine i trust ur filth

since i only have build the base open here is 600 words of loving ms joke and pee

cw watersports

it starts with a text.

your phone buzzes on your desk at work. a quick glance at the screen tells you all you need. your loving but busy girlfriend has texted you two words, but those two little words distract you throughout the day, demanding attention despite how hard you try to work.

get ready.

you know exactly what emi means. your time together is so limited between her two jobs and your one job, and so every night together is packed full of all of your favorite things. you drink more than enough water to stay hydrated, knowing you’re in for such a long night in her arms.

emi makes it home before you, surprising you with a large spread of your favorite foods. the first part of your evening flows easily, catching up on your days and eating. emi makes you laugh so hard you cry with her impression of eraserhead yelling at his kids. when you finally stop laughing her face is right in front of yours, close enough you can simply lean forward and press your lips to hers.

she’s got you naked in bed before you even realize. you think distantly that it is has to be her real quirk, but when her fingers press into your slick cunt you decide that it doesn’t matter.

“‘m gonna wreck you,” she says as she sucks a mark onto your skin, just under where your shirts will cover. her own cunt grinds against your leg, smearing her juices all over your thigh, “gonna make you make a mess for me.”

her fingers press all the way into you, brushing over your sweet spot as her palm grinds into your clit. your hands tangle in her hair, tugging her face up to press your lips to hers. her tongue tangles with yours as your hips buck into her hand.

“you gonna cum for me pretty baby?” she asks when she pulls away, propping herself up on her free arm to stare down at you as you nod. “i can feel your pussy pulsing all around my fingers, i know you wanna cum. come on, let go, make a mess for me.”

her words are all you need to let go, giving her the mess she wants. you can feel your cunt gush around her, and when it stop she keeps going. you can feel the first hot trickle of your urine when her fingers press upwards directly against your sweet spot, sending a spasm through you. the bed is going to be soaked but emi put towels down, preparing just as you had.

“e-emi!” you moan out, riding her fingers. everything drains from you when you’re done, she’s made good on her word of wrecking you, you’re void of cum, of pee, of any stress lingering from your day. it’s all you can do to grab at her wrist to stop the movement of her fingers inside you, knowing that if you don’t stop her now emi will simply fuck you until morning.

“sit on my face,” you insist at her questioning look. she snorts a little but complies.

“how can i say no to a request like that?” she asks as she settles her legs on either side of your head. you watch as she takes her fingers into her mouth, cleaning them of all of your juices.

“fuck, you’re hot,” you mumble into her thigh, drawing a rea laugh from emi.

“i love you too,” she tries to coo at you but breaks off when your mouth finds her needy clit.

it starts with a text, but it always ends with a mess.

#em’s 1k sandcastle #ms joke x reader #ms joke smut #emi fukukado #emi fukukado x reader

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adamarks · 4 years

Note

Okay okay so hear me out. #33 On a post-it note. BUT make it a fast food napkin 👀👀. Can give more details if you’d like (:

i love the stark stark stark contrast between how you interpreted this and how i did. our minds our too powerful.

and now for: sticky notes but wait no it’s napkins. 👀

Simon skidded into the firehouse only two minutes late, which was a bloody miracle, considering the shitshow his morning had been thus far.

His alarm hadn’t gone off (thank god he has the internal clock of a rooster). He’d accidentally elbowed Baz in the face in his rush to get out of bed, earning him a smack and a few pissy words from the husband first thing. As he’d been brushing his teeth and taking a leak (multitasking master), his hand had spasmed and the toothbrush taken an unfortunate morning swim (maybe not a master).

It was then that he should’ve called off and gone back to bed.

But oh no, he’d trudged bravely on, determined to take the day by its horns and be the matador he was destined to be.

In the kitchen, he encountered his next set of trials: a broken coffee pot, no more frozen waffles, no more sticky notes, and a brutally stubbed toe. Again, he valiantly pushed through, grabbing a piece of fruit Baz makes them buy in a last ditch effort for a healthy lifestyle, treading through the pain of a possibly broken toe (it wasn’t broken), and making it out the door.

Of course, the tube was a twenty-eight ring circus with no ringmaster in sight. Simon lost his pass, got the (not) broken toe stepped on, and to top it all off, it was running a solid eleven minutes late. Simon had been, at this point, gravely considering a dirt nap.

But finally, finally, finally, he’d made it to work in one piece. (Physically. Mentally, his sanity was reduced to a trail of breadcrumbs leading from point home to point fire station.)

Like a zombie for want of brains, he made his way through his morning, chugging the available coffee and waiting for disaster to strike. Until mid-morning, when he received a text from the old spouse: an image followed by:

Why.

Bc I need them for breakfast

I mean the method of communication

Oh we’re out of sticky notes too

U should get some of those whike ur at it

Is that ketchup

Ya couldn’t find tape

Simon, that’s repulsive.

It’s just ketchup on a napkin

You are cleaning this when you get home

fine

Also, I love you too.

The image, as mentioned above, was of the Pitch house’s refrigerator. A leftover napkin from the other night’s takeaway was haphazardly plastered onto the door by a large dab of ketchup. Written on it in purple sharpie was a mess of chicken scratch that read:

Baz get some more eggos plz we’re out

-simon

Ps I love you have a good day :)

#my fic #snowbaz #carry on #snowbaz fic #this was a fun prompt tysm caity

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minbbydoll · 5 years

Text

So Cold - 전 정국 (001)

↳ Genre : Angst

↳ Pairing : Cheating Husband!Jungkook x Mistress!Reader

↳ Description : Jeon Jungkook the man you dream to hold close to you as he tells you how much he loves you, a dream that will never happen though because he’s married to your best friend, you’ll only ever be a mistress to him. Someone who is so easily replaceable, he’ll never love you and you know it but you still can’t stop hoping for something more. You still can’t stop putting yourself through the heartbreak over and over again.

↳ Word Count : 3.1k

↳ Warnings : Cheating, self-hate, degrading words (mostly slut), praising kink, impregnation kink, unprotected sex, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, foreplay, daddy kink,

↳ A/N : This story will be based on the song So Cold by Ben Cocks, also feel free to leave comments I want to know what you think of this story.

(002), (003)

Oh, you can’t hear me cry.

You let out a faint broken smile as you made yet another excuse as to why you couldn’t go to lunch with your friend and his husband, as soon as you hung up the phone apologizing once more you let out a small shaky breath.

You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up, you can’t hide your affair with his husband much longer, he’s bound to find out. Yet here you were curled up in a ball, letting out a small stream of tears, upset that not only do you not have the man you love but that you can’t even face your best friend of years because of the terrible thing you’ve done.

Kim Taehyung the man who you love dearly, the man who as a child protected you from bullies, the man who would do anything for you and you vise versa, the man whose husband was cheating on him with you.

You so desperately wanted to end things with Jungkook but you couldn’t just do that, the thought of him not being by your side gave you major anxiety. You didn’t want to hurt your friend but you couldn’t stop indulging in your selfishness. You were a person who didn’t really need love but then Taehyung introduced you to Jungkook and you felt your heart flutter when he smiled at you, you felt your hand burn with desire just at his simple touch.

You don’t remember when it started but you remember how it started. You remember allowing these things to happen, you remember taking advantage of Taehyung’s husband. You remember how much it hurt when he left you and said he needed to get back to his husband, and most of all you remember how disgusted you were - no are with yourself for sleeping with Jungkook for the first time.

“Hey, are you just going to sit here alone all night?” You turned to be met with the man you didn’t want to see right now; Jungkook, you looked at him up and down and noted he looked really good in his simple black t-shirt and dress pants.

“Ha, no I’m just not really up for a dance for right now- hey, where’s Tae?” You hoped to distract Jungkook by looking around to try and spot his husband. Jungkook smiled at you, “Ah, Tae went upstairs to one of Jimin’s bedrooms, he said he wasn’t feeling well.”

You nodded and stood up from your seat, “Well I guess I’ll try and find a man to dance with.” You took out your wallet to pay for your drink but Jungkook grabbed your wrist. “Allow me [Name].” Jungkook took money out from his pocket and put it on the counter, “It’s not free though, come dance with me.” You let out a small chuckle and grabbed his hand.

The song that was playing was slow and very sensual, you felt Jungkook grab onto your hips, it was a small action but it made you gulp. “S-should we be dancing t-this close?” You could feel Jungkook’s grip tighten on your hips as he pulled you harshly against his chest, his breath fanned over your ear, “Don’t worry about it babe.”

Jungkook slowly and sensually rutted against you, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as he dove his head into your neck taking in a deep breath of your scent. You don’t know why you let it happen, you weren’t drunk, yet you still let him slam you against some random bedroom door. There was a clash of teeth, tongue, and lips. You weren’t drunk that one thing you’re sure of, you weren’t drunk, not on alcohol at least.

“Jump.” Jungkook growled out as he nipped on your ear. You let out a wanton moan as you felt his bulge against your sopping heat when you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Jungkook roughly threw you onto the bed, “G-Gukk” You whispered out a shorten version of his name and it only made him growl possessively as you looked so small and helpless.

You were practically dripping with arousal and it made him slip further into dom space. He ripped off the dress that seemed to be skin tight.

“Fuck, look at you baby, so fucking wet for me.” He tore off your panties and you didn’t care they were really expensive, you only cared about him being able to almost make you cum just be his voice.

Jungkook wasted no time and dove straight into your core, he licked up your arousal only to have it replaced by more. He wasn’t going to lie; you had a nice taste to you and he absolutely enjoyed eating you out.

“Mhm, all this for daddy baby, all this yummy pussy for me and only me, right?” Jungkook sucked on your clit making you whine.

“F-fuck yes, daddy it’s all for you and only you, I belong to you.” Jungkook peppered kisses on your clit, “My baby is cute, I’m so lucky, you want daddy to make you cum baby?”

You let out a strangled moan, “Yes please daddy, please make me cum, please, please- oh f-fuck.” You let out a small shriek as Jungkook dug his fingers into your thighs and roughly sucked onto your clit.

He didn’t even have to finger you to make you cum, “Oh baby, you came so hard and I haven’t even started yet.”

Jungkook stood up and unbuckled his belt, and he made eye contact with you as he stripped off his clothes. “Look at you slut, you want daddy’s cock, you want daddy to fuck you with his hard cock, tell me slut is that what you want?”

You nodded, “Yes daddy, please, I want your cock, I want you.” Jungkook stroked his cock a few times, “Such a good slut, you want daddy to fill you up even though he’s married, you want daddy to fuck you on someone else’s bed, such a filthy slut.”

You momentarily remembered he’s married to your best friend but quickly dismissed it when you realized you wanted him more than anything, and you won’t be able to stop yourself from indulging in your selfishness. “D-daddy please.”

Jungkook knew he had a condom in his pocket but he wanted to feel you, all of you, raw. “Only because my sweet baby asked so nicely.” Jungkook moved closer to you and peppered kisses on your chest.

He slid in so easily, “D-daddy, v-virgin.” He managed to understand what you meant, you were a virgin. “W-want me to stop,” in all honesty he didn’t even know if he would be able to stop, you were so warm and wet for him, so ready and he was absolutely ecstatic.

He was so glad you shook your head no. “Want you to take it, j-just slowly.” Jungkook nodded and slowly slid in, you grabbed onto his back and dug your fingernails into his skin. Jungkook isn’t a masochist but you tightening around his cock as he’s deep inside of you staying still while you dug your nails into his back has him wanting cum right at that moment.

It took everything Jungkook had for him not to ram into you and make you scream his name. “M-move please.” Jungkook took his time with you, and he didn’t want to hurt you, to you it was like making love instead of just sex, he was so gentle and he slowly thrusted into you deeply.

“F-fuck, you’re doing so good for me baby, so t-tight, such a good girl.” Jungkook sped up a little, he held onto your shoulders and thrusted into you quickly.

“Ah, Jungkook!”

Jungkook loved when you yelled his name, when you clenched around him, when you arched your back so he could hit deeper, so deep his cock kissed your cervix.

Jungkook moved his hand to rub your clit but before he could he felt you spasm around him, clenching and unclenching. “Ah, g-god, so good.” You squeezed him so tight you drove him straight to his own end. Jungkook didn’t slow down or speed up as you both rode out your highs.

Jungkook did cum inside you and when he pulled out there so much cum it spilled out of you, it ran down your thighs and onto the bed. “Mhm, baby you take daddy’s cock so well, you look so cute with my cum oozing out of you.”

You looked up from your knees as you heard your doorbell ring, “Pizza!” You grabbed your wallet from the coffee table and walked over to the door. You were greeted by a man that looked around your age probably a few years older. “Hello, that’ll be $20.89.”

You grabbed the money and 20 more dollars as a tip. “Oh ma’am, this is too much for a tip.” You shook your head and encouraged him to take the extra money. “Please, and don’t call me ma’am you look older than me, just call me [Name].”

He bit his lip and shyly took the 20 dollars, “You can call me Yugyeom [Name], please let me do something for you, this is too much.” You jokingly said, “Well, you could get me a boyfriend.” His eyes widened and he quickly nodded, “I have a friend who I think you would look really good with, I'll set you up just give me your number.”

You gripped onto the pizza, “Ah, I was just joking.” Yugyeom cutely tilted his head, confused, “But it doesn’t hurt to try.” You sighed, he’s right, I should try dating. You turned around and put your pizza on the coffee table. You grabbed a near by paper and pen. After writing your number down you handed him the paper and he thanked you before leaving.

You sighed disappointed just as you were about to take a bite your pizza, your phone dinged. You really didn’t want to check it but you did anyway, you very often hated your anxiety that pushed you to do things you didn’t want to because of your irrational fear of missing something important or being pushed out of your social group for not texting back.

[Gukk] : I need u rn, I don’t care what you’re doing I’m coming over. - 12:55am

[Name] : Okay, I have pizza for afterwards. - 12:55am

You put your phone and stripped off your clothes, you walked to your room and grabbed your silk robe that was laying down peacefully on your cleaned and recently made bedsheets.

You continued watching tv while waiting for Jungkook, only after 20 minutes did you hear your doorbell ring again. Jungkook slipped off his shoes as he stepped into your apartment.

“Mhm, baby are you all ready for me?” You stood up and walked over to Jungkook, “Yes daddy.” Jungkook slowly undid your robe and slid it off of your shoulders and onto the floor.

“Baby, how do look so much better everyday, how are you all only for me?” Jungkook kissed your shoulder as he continued complimenting you, Jungkook liked to have slow romantic sex with you. It wasn’t very frequent Jungkook was rough with you, only when he was impatient; this meant when he went too long without seeing you.

Jungkook dove straight into your lips, his thin plump lips devouring your own, his rhythm slow and sweet as usual. Jungkook’s hands roamed all over you, from your waist, to your naked breasts, to your face eventually ending in him roughly grabbing your ass cheeks.

“Baby, fuck I can’t believe I get you to myself, this sweet pussy only for daddy, this yummy ass only for daddy- fuck!” Jungkook let out a small shout of the curse word as he felt his cock getting way too hard in his way too tight dress pants.

“I’m sorry, I can’t wait any longer baby, I need to get inside of you.” Jungkook rapidly and messily undid his belt buckle to slide his pants off, still in his boxers he felt a bit better than before. Jungkook palmed himself as the both of you continued to kiss with swollen lips.

Jungkook finally let go of your lips and grabbed your hand leading you from your living room to your bedroom, the room he was all too familiar with. Jungkook took his lips against yours once more until the both of you were on the bed.

Jungkook gave you a few pecks on the lips before trailing down to your neck. Jungkook’s previous marks already faded, his swollen lips worked on your neck making sure to make them as dark as possible.

You grasped onto his hair, his touch never ceased to amaze you. “You like that slut, you like me marking you.” You nodded, “Yes daddy, I l-love being marked by you, l-love being yours.”

Jungkook has always loved how easily you’ve submitted to him, the way his name falls from those precious pink lips of yours, the way you moan for him and only him.

Jungkook took one of nipples in his mouth, he sucked on your nipple as his left hand played with your other breast. “Ah Jungkook~ please.” Jungkook’s mouth left your nipple with a popping sound.

“Please what baby, tell daddy what you want.” You whimpered at his tone, “Want daddy’s cock please- oh please, w-want daddy to fuck me please.” You begged, he always likes when you beg and you know that.

“Do you deserve daddy’s cock, have you been a good girl?” Jungkook’s hands impatiently stroke his cock to prep him to enter your warm heat. “Yes, daddy, I’ve been such a good girl please, please let me have your cock daddy.”

Jungkook’s breathing was suddenly heavier, ever since he started having sex with you he gets this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach- wait no, ever since he met you the feeling started.

Jungkook shook his head and turned his focus back to you, he tapped your clit with his cock a few times before he first pushed in. He stayed still before coming out fully and pushing back in.

Jungkook does this to tease you and himself, he loves watching his cock go in and out of you, he loves watching you squirm when he teases you. “Daddy, please!” Jungkook couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he grabbed onto your hips and thrusted into you.

You were so wet it made him slip in so easily, you and him both let out a much needed moan. He could feel you tighten around him as he thrusted into you again.

“F-fuck, you take me so well, you just love getting pounded into by daddy’s cock, don’t you?”

Jungkook rubbed your clit with his free hand while the other tightly gripped your hip. “Answer me, slut!” Jungkook got rougher as he didn’t he hear a response, you tried to respond but the way he was fucking you, it was just too much.

“Y-yes.” You managed to squeak out a response just before you threw your head back as your eyes also started to roll back. Jungkook leaned down and sucked on you neck leaving more hickies.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. You want my cum, you want my baby in you, tell me slut, do you want a perfect round belly full of my child?” You know Jungkook has an impregnation kink but what he was saying was actually very true for you, you do want his baby, you want a family with him.

“Yes, daddy please, please cum in me, I want- no need it please.” Jungkook went as deep as he could with his thrusts, your words only fueled his need to cum in you. “Only ‘cause my slut asked so nicely.”

Jungkook gave a few more thrusts before filling you with his seed, you both came at the same time. You were so fucked out you could only see white as you continued to clench and unclench around him.

Your head was thrown back and Jungkook knew this was a sight he wanted to continue seeing for the rest of his life. He loves fucking you so much, he pulled out his soft cock and rolled onto the bed next to you.

You finally came down from your high still panting, you turned on your side to look at him.

You turned on your side to look at him, “I still can’t believe you’re my first.” Jungkook softly smiled as he brushed your hair back, he let out a small hum. “Why?”

You shyly looked away from him, “Well call me crazy but I’ve always wanted my husband to be my first, not only my first during sex but my first during everything. First kiss, first boyfriend, first-,” Jungkook cut you off with a peck on your lips.

He didn’t want to hear anymore because his heart clenched at your words and he felt guilt not because he cheated on his husband but because he took away a part of you, you can’t ever get back.

But just as he pulled away he came to a realization, “Wait for your husband to be your first everything you would have needed to not have your first kis-,” he stopped as he looked at you in horror. He didn’t deserve to take your first kiss, he didn’t deserve to take your virginity. Oh, god I’m such a horrible person.

Jungkook snapped out of it when he heard his phone ding, he turned to look at it. “It’s Tae, I’ve got to go.” Jungkook stood up picking up his discarded clothes and placing them back on.

After taking away your virginity he just left you alone. What did you expect to be able to wake up next to him in the morning? What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/N he has a fucking husband and his husband is your fucking best friend.

You silently let your tears slide down your cheeks as you felt nothing but melancholy. Why couldn’t you just stay away from him, why do you feel this need to hold him tight and never let go?

You slammed your hand against your mouth to try and silence your whines and loud sobs, it was in vain as you couldn’t help but just sob louder.

The next morning you had breakfast with Taehyung and his husband, Taehyung couldn’t help but want to gossip with you. “So~ I heard my little Y/N got laid last night. How was it, are you gonna marry the guy?”

Your eyes widened as you took a quick second for your eyes to dart over to shook Jungkook. “T-Tae, I really don’t want to talk about it.” Taehyung tilted his head, “But why, you’ve always been so adamant about staying a virgin until you got married.”

You bit your lip as you looked up to Jungkook once more before turning to Taehyung, “People change their mind, is it so weird I did?” Taehyung nodded vigorously, “Yes, very no mat-,” Jungkook held onto Taehyung’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Babe, maybe you should just leave the poor girl alone.” Taehyung nodded and hesitantly let go of the subject.

“I think I wanna see other people, Jungkook.”

(002), (003)

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #cheating #jungkook angst #angst #taehyung #taekook

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khoicesbyk · 4 years

Text

The Nanny Affair.

The Tease…

A/N: This fanfic is a few days after “The Fight” fanfic. Which you can find here: The Fight

Weekly Choices Challenge Prompt: You belong to me! This seemed like fun. So, I decided to give it a go!

(Song and Story Inspiration: Anywhere-112, Get Me Home-Foxy Brown, Partition-Beyoncé, Please Excuse My Hands-Plies and I Want U-Floetry. I had my Amazon Music on random and these songs played as I wrote this. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

***Rated: Mature 18+. Contains sexual content and strong language. You know? The usual from me. 😁

***Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters.

***Characters: Krystal Parker (MC) x M!Sam Dalton (LI)

Current Word Count: 1,746 words.

“You belong to me!”

Those words were stuck in her head. They were like the sweetest to her ears. She loved when Sam says it to her. “You belong to me! Don’t you ever forget that, Krystal! You! Belong! To! Me!”

The boys had been gone maybe two days. And boy, did she miss her babies. Although; she’d have to have a serious conversation with them about keeping their room clean.

But they weren’t the only faces that she missed. She missed him; she missed that handsome man. She wanted him close to her again. She wanted his arms around her. She wanted his lips on her skin.

But; he wasn’t home. He’s stuck at the office; trying not to gouge his eyes out, while having a shareholders meeting. He was bored. He was starving. He was annoyed. He needed a distraction/pick me up; so he texted her.

Me: slowly…dying…send…help…😖😩

Kitten: 😂😂 ur so overdramatic!

Me: no I’m dying! There’s a difference! Save me kitten!

Kitten: 🙄🙄🙄 ugh! Ur such a big baby!

Me: Robin won’t shut up! Do! Something! Save! Me!

She didn’t answer; at least not right away. Within 10 minutes; he got a text from her that made him choke on his water. She was standing in front of his bedroom mirror with her hair down, in nothing but one of his black dress shirts. It hugged her curves oh so well; and stopped mid thigh. He swallowed hard; in an attempt to calm his heart that was currently pounding in his chest.

She was teasing him. And it was only just the beginning. Soon after receiving that text; Sam got multiple photos of her seductively posing in his bed.

“Jesus Christ! She’s trying to fucking kill me!”, he thought to himself.

As his meeting drudged on; he received yet another text from her. Only, this time; it wasn’t another sexy photo; it was a video. Sam was hard as steel and scared as a cornered mouse. He knew that if he opened it; he’d be done. His curiosity won out in the end. He had to see what she had done. With the volume off; he opened the video and played it. It was a video of her dancing for him. Watching her dance was driving him crazy.

“Dammit kitten…”, he muttered under his breath. Seeing her hips sway; was enough for him to power through to lunch. He texted her the following:

Me: when I get home…I am going to have my way with you! You didn’t have to tease me like that!

Kitten: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything. 🤷🏾‍♀️😏

Me: …you better naked and ready when I get home! 😋

Kitten: 🙃😘

As the day went on; she sent him more videos and pictures. Which caused the rest of his meeting to go by smoothly for him. And soon; he was racing his way home. His dick throbbed every time he thought of her. He wanted her in the worse way possible. Her videos and pictures teased and taunted him. And he was gonna have his revenge; when finally he got his hands on her.

When he got home; he put his briefcase down on the couch and walked to the kitchen. There he found a hot meal and a note.

“Welcome home! Eat your food then come join me. K…”

He wolfed down his food; then all but ran to his bedroom. He stopped as he got to the door. When he leaned in closer; he heard her voice on the other side. He could tell she was moaning.

“Ohhhh! Yesssssssssss!! Shit! Ohhhhhhhh fuck that feels so good!”, she moaned. When he opened the door; there she was. She was splayed out on his bed completely naked; pleasing herself. He shuddered as he watched and listened to her. She laid there writhing in pleasure; because of the bullet she had going across her aching clit.

He couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “That’s it kitten! Moan for me! Tell me how good it feels!”, he growled as he continued to watch her. “Sam! It feels so good! God it feels so good! I need you! Come touch me! I need to feel you touch me!”, she replies in a desperate tone.

It didn’t take him long to undress and join her in bed. His lips would soon devour hers; in a desperately long kiss. He had to have her. He nursed on the hollow of her neck; before sliding downward. When he got to her breasts; he rubbed; twisted, nibbled and sucked on her nipples.

He was desperate to taste her. Feeling her writhe underneath his touch; was an unimaginable high for him. He kissed his way down her body; stopping only to graze her ribs with his teeth. The heat inside her continued to rise and threatened to burn her alive. Every touch and especially every kiss sent her orgasm rising higher and higher.

“Sam…please don’t stop…”, she moaned desperate for him to keep going. She wanted to feel him; between her thighs in the worst way possible. He slowly coaxed her thighs apart with sweet kisses on each one. Her body clenched with anticipation and ecstasy.

“My pretty little kitten. Is there something that you would like me to do?”, he asked as his teeth skimmed along the inside of her left thigh.

“Yes! I…want…to…feel…your…tongue!”, she said to him. He began kissing closer to her epicenter; but never actually touching it; causing her to cry out. “Shhhh kitten! You’ll get what you want from me. I promise! But right now, I owe you for being such a naughty girl!”, he told her. With that; he went back to licking all around her center.

He wanted to return the favor first. Soon; he realized that; he was becoming impatient with himself. So he ended his taunting and gave her what she wanted. With her legs resting on his shoulders; he began to devour his kitten. When she felt his mouth finally descend unto her clit; she nearly jumped off the bed. She grabbed the sheets and hung on for dear life; as he feasted on her.

“YESSSSSSSSSSS!! RIGHT THERE! RIGHT! FUCKING! THERE! DON’T STOP SAM! PLEASE DON’T STOP!”, she shouted as his mouth worked against her. He nibbled, nipped and sucked on her clit; like his life depended on it. He even wrote his name with his tongue against the tender flesh, several times. Every movement, every moan, every cry of pleasure and especially every scream; made eating her out that much sweeter. The feeling of his mouth being attached to her and the spasms in her legs; were almost too much to bear.

“Sam…please…take…me! I need to feel you inside me!”, she begged. And although he wasn’t exactly done feasting on her; he knew he wouldn’t last much longer if he stayed that way.

“As you wish kitten.”, he said as he finally came back up for air. After releasing her legs for the moment; he slowly licked and nibbled his way up her midsection. Her skin was always soft to the touch; and always looked better with his lips on it.

He always had to let his hands get in on the action as well. While his left hand and fingers skimmed up her spine causing her back to arch; his right hand was massaging; kneading and caressing her ass. He did all of this; to elicit the different sounds she made. He was having fun teasing her skin his lips and hands but; he started to crave wanting to be inside her.

He wanted to feel her vaginal muscles clench around him as he drilled her. He wanted to hear her moan and scream his name. He pinned her hands above her head with his left hand; and lined himself up with her entrance with his right.

“You ready kitten?”, he asks her. When she nodded; he closed his eyes and entered inside her. She let a mix of a gasp and a moan.

“Yesssssssssss!”, she said as she felt him plunge deep. Her body felt alive as he began to get into his groove. Soon; his bedroom was filled with the sounds of their bodies coming together and their combined moans and groans. “That’s it kitten! Take that dick! Tell me that you want this! Tell me that it feels good! Uh huh! That’s it baby!”, he growled. There was never a time where he didn’t feel good.

“YESSSSSSSSSSS!! GIVE IT TO ME! FUCK ME! JUST LIKE THAT! I WANT IT! I! WANT! YOU!”, she screamed. He always LOVED how vocal she is. She was on fire! Heat coursed through her veins with every stroke of his dick. That’s when he rolled onto his back; causing her to ride him. She plunged her tongue in between his lips in a hungry yet desperate kiss. She wanted to taste him on her lips. He knew she was getting close; by the way her breathing labored.

“Look at me kitten! I want you to ALWAYS remember that you belong to me! Don’t you ever forget that, Krystal! You! Belong! To! Me!”, he told her through gritted teeth. He was relentless when it came to fucking her into a sweet oblivion.

She was there. She was right there; but couldn’t quite get over that edge. That was until Sam grabbed the bullet she had earlier, turned it on to the highest vibration; and put it straight on her pulsing clit. The sensation of the vibrator on her clit combined with him pounding her; was all she wrote. She dug her nails into the skin of his back and cried out, “FUCK YES! THAT’S IT! I’M ABOUT TO FUCKING CUM!”

She convulsed as her orgasm and the heat in her body ripped her in half. And that was all he needed to cum along with her.

“Ohhhhhhhh! Shit! I’m cumming baby! It’s all for you! It’s! All! For! You! I—Fuck!”, he told her as he gave into his own orgasm. His body twitched as he came down from his own high. She shivered against him as she came down from her orgasm. As their combined breathing started to stabilize; he brought her closer to chest and rubbed her back.

“Are you alright, babe?”, he asks her. “Yes. I’m fine; just tired.”, she said as she snuggled against his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her as he rocked her to sleep.

@txemrn @lucy-268 @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesweeklychallenge

😘

#choices #choices fanfiction #pixelberry #choices stories you play #fanfic #khoicesbyk #choices tna #sam dalton #the nanny affair

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dreamcatcherfication · 5 years

Text

We Were Only Enemies Before We Truly Met

Anon asked: Could you please do a fic of the queens now a days where Anne has a panic attack (it doesn’t have to be that bad if u don’t want it to be) and maybe one of the queens helping? U can decide where!

Hopefully this is what you wanted anon, and I hope y’all enjoy. Asks are always open, and comments are gladly accepted. Apologies for any spelling/grammatical errors. Also, yes, this is a Halloween fic written in the middle of March, I figured we could all use a little spoopy holiday spirit.

Writing Masterpost

Trigger Warnings: Panic attack, bad Halloween costumes, one (1) rabid Kat.

Anne Boleyn did not like to appear weak or helpless, and that was something she had lived by in both this life and her past life. She was known for making jokes about her beheading with the other queens, and she never let any of history’s words deter her from being herself. Anne Boleyn was strong and smart and brave. But she was also human.

It started out simple enough, Anne had gone out to get another pair of heelys after her last pair broke, walking out on some of the more empty streets. She had a light skip in her step as her eyes shined at the prospect of being returned to her gold chariot of turning wheels. It wasn’t quite evening yet, but the sun had started to set and pedestrians started to thin out as they headed home to their families. It was Halloween time and the majority of people she passed were carrying bags of store bought candy, occasionally followed by a whining child begging for sugar. Anne had texted the others where she was going (at least she hoped so, her mind was off on Cloud 9 imagining being reunited with her heelys again), but otherwise she was practically all alone.

Turning the corner of a particularly long street, Anne came up next to an alleyway by a Halloween shop. It was one of those single dollar type stores that popped up for a month and then disappeared, it’s flickering sign more spooky than the actual decorations. Moving past the Halloween shop, Anne suddenly jerked back in surprise when a bloodcurdling scream came from the alley, followed by the sound effect of something being sliced. Someone came stumbling out of the dark corner and when Anne could finally make them out, she had to choke back a scream of terror in her throat. The person was holding their bloody head in their hands, the neck a severed prop above them. The hands holding the head and the neck were obviously cheap plastic, and the paint posing as blood was chipping, but the damage had already been done.

All air had left Anne’s throat as she stared at the costumed person. They had started laughing after seeing Anne’s shock, but the voice faded out in a blur of white noise as Anne’s chest started to clench. Forcibly pulled back in time, Anne could almost feel the executioner’s blade on her neck, burning away at her skin. Grabbing her neck in pain, Anne started to claw at her choker. Vaguely, she could see her aggressor grow concerned and take a step forward, and that was all Anne needed to regain her senses. Instantly hyper aware of everything around her, Anne took off in a sprint, her body taking over her mind.

As she ran, her surroundings morphed into memories that (no matter how fast she tried) she couldn’t outrun. She saw young Elizabeth asking for her, she saw Henry ordering her execution, she saw the crowds of people cheering for her death. It was a miracle her body was getting enough oxygen to function, much less run from the Halloween shop back to the queen’s house. But the next thing she knew, Anne was ripping open the front door and bolting up to the attic, locking the door behind her. Collapsing onto the floor, Anne curled into a ball as her muscles tensed and spasmed. She barely heard the surprised voices of the other queens over her panic, and they faded into a dull roar.

Every breath was painful, as if it went in her mouth and out her neck, never reaching her lungs. She was stuck in the final moment of her death, her scar burning with the most unimaginable pain. So many reminders of the trauma she had endured came boiling to the forefront of her mind, trampling any positive thoughts that may have been able to soothe her.

“Anne? Anne, can you hear me?” It was undoubtedly one of the queens, but in Anne’s state of panic, she couldn’t identify the voice. “Anne, please open the door so I can help you.”

It took a moment for Anne’s mind to process the request, and then another for her to get her body to respond. With shaky movements, Anne’s hand moved up to the door knob and pulled on it weakly, just enough so that the door would open a sliver. Without a second of hesitation, in stepped Catherine of Aragon, a concerned look upon her face. “Anne…” but she trailed off, unsure of what to say to the distressed queen before her. Quickly making a decision, Aragon got down on her knees and pulled Anne into a hug. At first Anne resisted, pushing at the arms, but eventually she relaxed into them and allowed herself to be held.

“Breathe with me,” Aragon said quietly. With her mind in a haze, Anne could only instinctually do as Aragon asked, copying the rising and falling of the other woman’s chest. They stayed like that for a while, both silently breathing and letting the tension of the room dissipate slowly.

As she came back to her senses, Anne couldn’t help but feel ashamed. “I’m sorry,” she told Aragon.

Furrowing her eyebrows, the Spanish princess asked, “What for? It’s okay to have troubles.”

“No it’s not,” Anne shot back. “I’m Anne Boleyn, the jokester. I’m not weak. I can’t be weak.”

Rubbing her hand up and down Anne’s arm in an attempt to be soothing, Aragon struggled to find the right words. For so long she had resented Anne, but seeing her like this made it impossible for Aragon to hold onto her negative feelings. Anne was just as hurt as she was, likely more, and in all honesty, Aragon couldn’t bring herself to hate Anne like she had in the past. “Having emotions is not weak. We all have our traumas. Do you think Kat or Jane are weak?”

“No.”

Smiling, Aragon explained, “And neither are you, Anne Boleyn. Everybody has emotions and you don’t have to suppress them all the time.”

Shrugging, the beheaded queen stood up and moved across the room to her bed. She sat down on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. “I shouldn’t have freaked out the way I did. It was only some kid playing a joke.”

Aragon stood up as well, but she didn’t step forward. “What did they do?”

“They jumped out at me wearing a cheap Halloween costume. Fake blood and a severed head. I panicked and I -” much to Anne’s frustration, she choked up once again. Thinking back to it sent fear that she couldn’t control through her entire body.

“A costume in poor taste I’m sure,” Aragon grumbled. “Anne, please don’t blame yourself for panicking. I mean, remember when Kat nearly punched Anna in the face when she -”

“When she brought that giant dog home without warning. Kat was freaked, but then she refused to let the poor thing go,” Anne smiled fondly at the memory.

“Even the smallest of things can trigger bad memories.” Aragon’s eyes were hopeful, praying that she had gotten through to Anne.

There was a moment of silence as Anne contemplated Aragon’s words. She let her eyes slowly wander upwards until she and Aragon were making eye contact. The Spanish princess’s eyes were nothing if not welcoming, a sight Anne wasn’t expecting. “Why are you helping me of all people?”

Opening her mouth and then closing it, Aragon floundered for a proper answer. Migrating over to Anne’s bed, Aragon sighed and sat down next to the younger queen. “You know Anne… I never truly hated you as much as I thought I did. We’ve had a bad past but… we’ve been reincarnated for some reason, and to keep resenting you for something that happened so long ago is selfish. There’s no reason why I can’t help you, so I will. It might seem hard to believe, but I do care about your wellbeing Anne Boleyn.”

Her words were not what Anne expected to hear. Perhaps something like helping the beheaded queen because it would make her look better, not because she genuinely wanted to. Fiddling with her hands, Anne shyly offered, “For what it’s worth… I’m sorry what happened, happened. I didn’t mean for it all to get so out of hand.”

“The past is the past,” the Spanish princess said. “Right now, I’m here for you Anne. As long as you need me.”

In a moment of impulse, Anne launched herself into Aragon’s arms and hugged her tight. The older queen was surprised at first, but she sunk into the hug. “Thank you Catherine. Just… thank you.”

Aragon said nothing, but she held Anne tightly to her chest. “If anything like this ever happens again, I’m here for you Anne. We’re all here for you. We love you Anne.”

Pausing and pulling back from the hug, Aragon was met with Anne’s trademark mischievous smirk. There were still tear tracks on her face, but the familiar light had returned to Anne’s eyes. “You loooove me?”

Rolling her eyes, Aragon played along with the cheeky queen. “Now now, I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d get all full of yourself.”

Dramatically, Anne pretended to be hurt by Aragon’s words. “How you wound me, Princess Catalina. First a proclamation of love and now an insult to my worldly honor?!” Aragon lightly slapped Anne’s arm, causing the two of them to start giggling like children. Eyes going wide, Anne groaned in annoyance. “Dammit, I forgot my heelys!” She smacked her forehead and made an array of frustrated sounds. “Now I have to wait until tomorrow to get them back. What am I supposed to do without them? I can’t keep walking around like a peasant.”

Slowly, Anne turned her head towards Aragon, a curious glint in her eyes. “No Anne, I’m not going to carry you on my back until you can get your heelys.”

“But you do it with Kitty!” Anne complained.

“Yes, because she’s at least twenty pounds lighter than you and a teenager.” Grumbling good naturedly, Anne shot the older queen a fake glare. But soon enough a grin grew back on her face, revealing her true feelings. “Are you ready to head back down with the others?” Aragon asked with a small smile, a warm and inviting expression Anne would have never imagined seeing before today.

Nodding, the younger queen stood up from the bed. “If I don’t go down there now, who’s going to eat all the chocolates?”

“Anne that’s not what I said -”

“But it’s what I heard ~” Anne replied in a sing-song voice. First wiping the tear tracks from her face, the beheaded queen happily exited the room followed by Aragon. Anne made her way down the stairs, practically taking two at a time. Reaching the bottom of the steps she spread her arms and announced, “Boleyn has returned!”

This was immediately followed by a loud, “Annie!” from Kat across the room. Before she could even register it, Kat had slammed full force into Anne, knocking her back until they were a heap on the floor. Aragon was staring at the cousins in utter shock whilst Jane looked concerned for their safety and Anna simply stifled a laugh.

Grinning broadly, Anne embraced her cousin as they lay on the floor together surrounded by the other queens. Cathy came into Anne’s line of sight, standing over her with a mug of coffee in one hand and a book under her arm. She quirked an eyebrow up and stated, “I guess it isn’t a family reunion without someone almost getting hurt. I’m glad you’re okay, Anne.”

All the Boleyn girl did in response was shoot Cathy a wink.

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon #katherine howard #she's a minor character but #I should probably tag her still #panic attacks #anon ask #oh yeah i forgot to add #its Halloween #in the middle of March #whoops

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apparentlynotreallyfinnish · 5 years

Note

So I’ve sent this as a prompt to someone before, but I’d like your take on it! The boys meeting on tindr 😏

I already told this to Lora but I have to share with the rest of the class, too. I talked about this exact thing with Mick like a day or two ago. So apparently, Lora and me share a brainwave. :D I ain’t mad. I hope you don’t mind that I changed it a bit. It’s not Tindr. That wouldn’t have been as fun as this.

—

Link’s phone lit up on his nightstand and cast a bluish glow on the ceiling of his bedroom. He’d just turned the lights off and tucked in but he couldn’t resist checking the notification.

You have (1) new match(es)

Link perked up. He’d downloaded the new dating app Incognito earlier that evening. He hadn’t tried dating through an app before. Not something you wanted to do when you worked in a semi-public profession as an internetainer.

But he’d heard some of the crew talking about Incognito and gotten intrigued. There were no pictures, no real names unless you decided to share them with someone you’d matched with. This was his first match. He’d been picky and he knew it. Everyone’s answers to their bio questions had just felt either boring or felt like they were trying too hard. Link had chosen to like only three men’s profiles and, apparently, one of them had liked him back.

Link wasn’t exactly looking for a relationship in this thing, so he wouldn’t have needed to be so picky. He didn’t have time for one. Right now, work took too much of his time and his brain power. There was also the fact that he wasn’t exactly out of the proverbial closet yet. He’d only recently come to terms with it himself. Bisexual. That was what he was going with right now. He knew the label didn’t mean that much. It might still change but even getting to accept that had been a struggle.

Not even Rhett knew yet. Link wanted to tell him, of course he did, but something was stopping him. That was probably the biggest reason he wasn’t ready for a relationship with a guy. Keeping something like that from Rhett just sounded both exhausting and too wrong.

But he did want to dabble a bit. He’d never been with a guy, so even texting – let alone sexting – with one seemed kind of thrilling. So, he’d chosen the “looking for a hook-up” option when he made his profile.

A message bubble popped on his screen.

PaddleBoardMe: Hey! You still up?

Link’s stomach did a little somersault. This was the profile he had desperately wanted to like him back. Everything this guy had said had either moved Link or made him laugh out loud. Also, his screen name was hilarious. Link wished he’d gone more cutesy and sexy with his own.

BlueEyes78: Hi! Yeah, was just about to go to sleep.

PaddleBoardMe: Oh! So, you’re in bed then. Sounds good. ;)

Link couldn’t help but blush. It was stupid but, suddenly, he felt like a teenager again. How the heck did one flirt with a guy? Link knew the answer was just like you did with a woman but he still felt unsure.

BlueEyes78: Yep, it’s pretty lonely here.

Link sent the message and immediately felt stupid. That was such an obvious answer. He was a writer, goddamn it. He could do better, right?

PaddleBoardMe: Want me to keep you company?

BlueEyes78: That sounds nice. What do you want to talk about?

Link sighed. That wasn’t any better. Maybe he needed to just forget about this whole thing.

PaddleBoardMe: Early morning tomorrow. Been a real stressful week.

Link eyed the message for a while. Was he trying to talk about it or was this a hint? Link gnawed on his lip and made a decision. Mr. PaddleBoard had chosen the hook-up option as well so Link hoped he wasn’t too far off with his reply.

BlueEyes78: Wanna let out some steam?

PaddleBoardMe: Yes, please. ;) Wanna tell me what you’re wearing?

Link sighed with relief. He wasn’t even sure why he was so worried about upsetting this guy. He didn’t even know him yet. But his profile had really caught Link’s eye and maybe even a tiny bit of his heart. Not that he would confess that to anyone, let alone himself.

BlueEyes78: Just some black boxer briefs. In bed, remember?

PaddleBoardMe: Mmh, sounds perfect. Wanna get hard in them for me?

Link swallowed and shifted on the bed. His boxers were filling up surprisingly quickly. He let his palm rest on his semi and squeezed lightly. His eyes drifted closed for a moment and he hummed from the pleasure.

BlueEyes78: Kinda already am.

PaddleBoardMe: Oh, you’re a needy little thing. Or maybe not that little?

BlueEyes78: I’ve been called big. I wouldn’t really know.

Link froze. Why the hell did he send that? It took a while for Mr. PaddleBoard to answer.

PaddleBoardMe: What do you mean?

BlueEyes78: Nothing. Just forget about it.

PaddleBoardMe: Kinda sounds like you might be inexperienced.

Link sighed and cursed. He felt like an idiot. He stared at the screen for a bit and then a little smirk crept on his face. Maybe this could still be salvaged.

BlueEyes78: Would that turn you on?

PaddleBoardMe: Hell yeah, baby.

Link cheered silently. He could work with this. It was the truth anyway.

BlueEyes78: I’ve never done this before. Not online, not in real life.

PaddleBoardMe: A virgin! Lovely. I’d be honored to pop your online cherry.

BlueEyes78: You sure? I don’t really know what I’m doing…

PaddleBoardMe: That’s actually kinda hot. Like I’ll be the first guy to ever get you off. Thinking about that is making me all kinds of hard.

Link drew a deep breath. He was really gonna do this. And the guy seemed actually pretty sweet. He wiggled on the bed, leaning against the pillows to better position himself. His left hand drifted back on his cock.

BlueEyes78: You gonna touch yourself and think of me?

PaddleBoardMe: I definitely am. Tell me a bit about yourself, just so I can get a better visual. Are your eyes really blue?

BlueEyes78: Yep. Bright blue. I’m tall, fit enough (for my age lol), dark brown hair with some gray in it but I promise it’s very sexy.

PaddleBoardMe: Oh, fuck me, that’s exactly my type.

BlueEyes78: Yeah? Would you like that then? Me fucking you?

PaddleBoardMe: I’d love that. Thinking about that right now. I’m on all fours and you’re behind me. I can feel your cock press against my hole. Fuck, you’re so big. Not sure I can take it. But I really want to be good for you. Since it’s your first time.

Link read the message twice and, all of a sudden, he was breathing heavy and he was painfully hard. How did this guy do it? How did he, with just a few words, make Link feel like he was actually there? Link slipped his fingers under his waistband and tugged it down enough to release his cock. His hand immediately wrapped around it and started slowly stroking. He moaned out loud.

BlueEyes78: That sounds amazing. I’m so hard right now. I wanna be inside of you.

PaddleBoardMe: I’m begging you to do it. I want you so bad my thighs are trembling. I’m arching my back, backing up against you. Please. Fuck me.

Link’s hand was a blur on his cock. He wanted so badly to be with this man; he didn’t care what he looked like. He was swept away by his words.

BlueEyes78: Okay, yeah, I’m inching in you now. Fuck, you’re so tight.

PaddleBoardMe: Oh, yeah. You feel so good, filling me up like that. Baby, fuck me hard. Make me feel that big cock. Make me yours.

BlueEyes78: You have no idea how hot this is for me. I’m so close already.

PaddleBoardMe: You’re so sexy. I want you to cum for me. Think about rawing into me while you do it. I’d let you do that. Just take me bareback. Wanna feel all of you.

BlueEyes78: Holy fuck. I want that. Wanna press my fingers into your hips when I pound into you. Wanna make you whimper with my cock. Want to make you plead for more.

PaddleBoardMe: You can leave bruises. I don’t care. Just need you fucking me into a wreck. I’m pleading. Cum into me. Fill me up.

Link groaned and changed his hand position. His head fell back thumping on the headboard and his wrist went on overdrive as he chased his orgasm with low whines and whimpers. His thigh muscles spasmed before his cock did. He came hard, an impressive amount of cum painting his torso all the way to his chest.

BlueEyes78: Fuck.

PaddleBoardMe: Did you u cum for me, baby?

BlueEyes78: Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever cum this hard in my entire life.

Link was still slowly pumping his cock, enjoying the last shivers of pleasure. He felt exhausted.

PaddleBoardMe: I’m so happy to hear that.

BlueEyes78: Did you get there?

PaddleBoardMe: Oh, yeah. You took me so good. I came all over myself. Wanna see?

BlueEyes78: Okay.

Link’s stomach clenched deliciously. He hadn’t thought he was gonna get a picture tonight. It took a moment for it to load. When it did, Link devoured it hungrily with his eyes. It was of a man’s stomach and crotch. He was still holding onto his dick. He was still strikingly hard; the picture had to be taken right after he’d reached his orgasm. His stomach had an impressive spattering of cum on it. But that was not what made Link’s heart miss a beat. What got to him was the fact that he recognized that stomach. He’d seen it many times before. Time stopped.

PaddleBoardMe: Hey, where’d you go?

Link was staring at the photo, jaw hanging slack, hand still wrapped around his cock.

PaddleBoardMe: Everything okay?

It was Rhett’s stomach.

#rhink #rhink ficlet #smut #lemon #prompted ficlet #Appa writes fic #I might continue this #if there is interest

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blu-riie · 4 years

Text

I Feel Like I’ve Been Losing All My Life - A Carry On Fic

Rating: Teen And Up Category: F/F Word Count: 2.1k Summary:“I couldn’t see, everything was blurry. This was when I knew things were going to be way harder to do. so I shoved my hands in front of me and walked blindly, hoping I wouldn’t bump into anything. My hands were no help (they were numb, what did I expect?) and sooner or later, my legs started to spasm. I was fucked.” A/N: i wrote this for femslash feb but 🤷

Read it on AO3 (There is extra info in the end notes about MS, check it out. I’d like to think it’s pretty helpful.)

BAZ

I awoke to the feeling (or not. Because I couldn’t feel it.) of my upper arm being numb and my alarm clock blaring in my ears.

I didn’t care about the alarm clock. I couldn’t move my arms. It was as if someone froze them solid and poked them constantly with millions of needles. It immediately struck me with panic and I had the urge to cry.

I’d felt that feeling one too many times. But it was the end of the week, and I couldn’t skip school, it would arise suspicion and I didn’t want to disappoint Daphne.

I didn’t want to be a disappointment to anyone. Especially Sophie, considering she was probably going to wait for me outside of the school.

I checked my phone for the time, blindly groping for my phone on my side table. I had three messages from Sophie.

Blithering Idiot: baz!!!!!!!!!

Blithering Idiot: its friday!!!!!

Blithering Idiot: ill be waiting for u in school!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I smiled, then replied with:

Me: Youre alwasy there.

Me: Its nothnig nwe.

Begrudgingly, I got out of bed, attempting to pull my self up with numb arms. I tried to walk towards the loo, but I bumped into something every time I turned around.

I couldn’t see, everything was blurry. This was when I knew things were going to be way harder to do. So I shoved my hands in front of me and walked blindly, hoping I wouldn’t bump into anything. My hands were no help (they were numb, what did I expect?) and sooner or later, my legs started to spasm.

I was fucked.

I crawled to the loo, because I was a stubborn git and I was going to go to school and see Sophie if it costed me my life. Though, I doubt it will. I’ve gotten out of this situation way too many times.

Eventually, I had reached the loo. I attempted to stand up, swayed, and pushed my hips against the door to open it. I did my usual routine; brushed my teeth, washed my face, combed my hair, and did my makeup. But I skipped the makeup this time, can’t really do flawless eyeliner if I can’t feel my fingers or see well, can I?

I trudged out of my room clad in my school uniform with my bag hanging off of my shoulder. not my best outfit, but at that point, I didn’t care.

“Morning, love.” Daphne said once I entered the kitchen.

I mumbled unintelligibly and headed towards the pantry, clumsily grabbing a few granola bars to shove inside my bag.

“Is father still here?”

“No, he left about half an hour ago,” Daphne said, heading towards me to ruffle my hair. “You feeling okay?”

I rubbed at my eyes, “no, not really. I woke up with my arms feeling numb.”

“Aw,” Daphne cooed. she didn’t mention anything about going back to the doctor’s, Daphne’s too sweet for her own good. “Need anything?”

“No. Just- don’t tell father.”

There really wasn’t anything bad about telling father that I woke up feeling like the epitome of death. Except for the fact that my mum died because of this very reason. So my condition and my mum were two topics that must not be talked about in this household.

Because as long as I was under my father’s roof, his rules would be followed. And anytime I gave in, I felt like I was losing.

“Alright,” she patted my head, “best be on your way then, school starts in about ten minutes.”

I groaned internally, but remembered that me and Sophie go to the same school. The prickling sensation in my arm got worse when I was chatting with Daphne, but my legs were a bit better, so I decided to walk.

I reached school in a record time of six minutes.

Because I ran. It wasn’t a very good idea since my legs were still slightly numb and I couldn’t see very well. I walked into the school and was immediately greeted by an enthusiastic Sophie.

“Baz! Love, there you are. What took you so long?”

I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t respond, I just kept walking.

“Baz, don’t ignore me.” She said, frowning.

I was so excited to see Sophie, but now I don’t want her around.

“Baz,” she said firmly, “you made a typo in your message.”

I couldn’t feel my hands, why did I think it was a good idea to text ?

I scoffed, “I’m human. Does making one typo mean it’s the end of the world?”

Sophie growled, “you’re limping . Is this your, what’s it called-”

I didn’t even notice that I was limping. I didn’t notice a lot of things. I couldn’t even recall what I had for breakfast yesterday. I felt like these were symptoms for an attack.

I can’t risk having one at school.

I yawned, “spit it out.”

At this point, I was backed into the wall of the hallway. It was deserted, thankfully, because classes had already started.

“Is it the, uh, numbing thing?”

“I’m amazed at how eloquently you said that, congratulations, you’ve figured me out.”

“Come on ,” Sophie whined, “you’re doing that thing wh-where you become an absolute arsehole.”

I just raised an eyebrow and stared at her eyes. They were so blue , so strikingly blue it hurt my eyes.

But I didn’t want to look away.

I put most of my weight beside me, on the side of a locker and leaned forward to bury my face into Sophie’s neck.

“Baz?”

“Mmph.”

“Love.”

I felt Sophie’s hands travel up my back onto my shoulders and started to rub them. I sighed, it felt like heaven and I was so, so tired. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t help.”

“It’s,” I yawned, “I think it’s another attack.”

“But you haven’t had one in-”

“It’s only been a few weeks. I thought too optimistic too soon.”

Sophie’s hands stilled from where there were on my back, soon resuming their movement to move to my hair and play with it. “So, what’s your plan? Why’d you come to school?”

I moved my head from Sophie’s shoulder and snorted, “do you not want me here?”

“No- are you daft?” She pressed a kiss to my nose, “of course I want you here, but I care about your health.”

I didn’t say anything. I stared past her shoulder towards the tiles.

“Baz, it’s okay. I’ll tell Ms Possibelf. Go to Ebb.”

Ebb was our school’s guidance counselor. She was one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, she knew my mother, and for some reason, it was easier to talk about her death to someone who actually knew her. (We would spend hours just crying about her, though I would never tell Sophie about that. she worried to much and I didn’t want to add to it.)

“Why?”

“She- she helps me, so she’ll help you. I’m sure of it. And she makes a really good cuppa.”

I smiled, Sophie always has food on her mind. Even if it isn’t scones.

“Okay.”

She reached out to pat my shoulder, I shot her a confused look, “Look, I- just. I love you, okay?”

I felt blood rush to my cheeks, “oh my god, Sophie.”

“What?”

“I love you too, you absolute nightmare. Now go, class has already started.”

I gave her a playful shove, she laughed and walked away.

Moments like those made me feel a little like I was winning.

I did listen to Sophie’s advice (I’m not that bad of a girlfriend, I swear.) But before I did, I headed to the loo to fix myself up. My hair was a mess, courtesy of Sophie playing with it, and my shirt was untucked. Even though I knew Ebb, I had to look presentable.

I tucked my shirt into my skirt and left my hair as is.

The freeze-like numbing in my arm returned, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me, immediately reminding me that I had to go to Ebb’s office and I had to go fast .

I headed to Ebb’s office, it was near the back of the school. It was quite dark. The hall had several broken lights which the school wasn’t bothering to fix.

I ran. Again. (Christ, I had to stop running, especially when I couldn’t feel shit in my legs.) And slammed open Ebb’s door. Not my best moment, but I really had no say.

Ebb’s office was painted a soft orange, her desk settle near the left corner. The walls were adorned with multiple Polaroids and quotes, and a small bean bag chair that was stark black against all the soft colours of the room. (Because it was mine. Ebb noticed I would be spending a lot of time here. Sometimes I wondered if the world deserved Ebb. She was amazing, period.)

Ebb, seeming unfazed by my entry, replied with a warm smile,“‘ello, Baz. How can I help ya?” Ebb was sitting on her chair, sipping a cuppa whilst scrolling through something on her computer.

I leaned against the door frame, panting. “I,” I huffed, “I think I’m about to have another attack. Or maybe it’s happening right now. I have no clue.”

“Okay, calm down. Come sit here.” She gestured towards the black bean bag chair. I took her advice and sat down.

“Okay.”

“Did you take your meds?”

I blinked.

Jesus Christ . My mind had been going absolutely bonkers since I woke up and I completely forgot the single most important thing that would help me get through the day.

My fucking medicine.

I had been diagnosed with MS about three years ago, when I was 14. I’d been complaining to Sophie and Ebb and they both said I should go to the doctor. Me, being the stubborn child I was, didn’t listen and insisted that I was in tip-top condition and didn’t need any help.

I did so desperately need help.

But the worst thing was that i had to go through the whole process alone. I wasn’t necessarily alone. I had Ebb and Sophie. But i wanted my mum. And my father wouldn’t even let me talk about my condition.

Through my teenage years, my condition worsened and my doctor recommended medicine, so I took it. Though it did help reduce MS flare-ups, the condition made me lose some feeling in my hand.

Meaning I could not play violin for sophie, like I’d hoped I could. I planned a whole picnic in my imagination, Sophie and I would watch the sunset and I’d play the violin for her.

I cried a lot when I’d found out.

So, in short, to not make father angry, I hid my condition, (which I shouldn’t have to. It’s perfectly normal to have it.) hid my medicine, hid the fact that I can no longer feel some of my hand, and the fact that I can no longer play the violin.

I wrote it down on paper, made myself memorize it, and repeated the mantra in my head over and over again. Fiona’d thought I’d gone insane. She wasn’t wrong.

“No.”

“Baz, I thought we’d gone over this,” Ebb frowned.

“No- no no no. Don’t worry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear.” I said, shaking my hands in front of her face to emphasize my point.

A year ago, Sophie had found me pissed on the streets and I’d dumped my heart out. I’d spilled multiple things that I normally wouldn’t have said if I was sober. And one of the things was that I wasn’t taking my meds because “ what’s the point? I’m gonna die anyways. Might as well go down like my mother, I suppose.”

It was mortifying. I vowed to never drink again.

“I’ve been having memory problems, which, you know, are one of the symptoms.”

“Have you been stressed lately?”

“What- I mean yeah, it’s exam season, what do you expect? I’m not going around frolicking in a field of flowers with a bouquet of fucking daisies in my hand.”

Ebb sipped her tea thoughtfully, “y’know, I could really do without your sarcasm right now, love.”

I groaned, annoyed. “Did you make any tea for me? Watching you drink really has me craving for some.”

Ebb smiled, “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Scones?”

Ebb just winked.

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #tyrannus basilton pitch #carry on fic #femslash #i've posted this on ao3 but made a tumblr #so i decided to post it here too #what's the harm lol

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seduceyourvamptype · 4 years

Text

@anditsxsorrows

❝ I’ll take you wherever you want: Rome, Paris, Tokyo,❞ a lifetime ago the the offer had been presented with a soft laughter, only reserved for her, and despite every screaming rationality inside her — telling her that he was a BEAST — she laughed with him. There were moments, just mere moments where they orbited in each others lives, and it didn’t, well, suck.

Now she stood before the worlds treasures, pyramids and castles, fallen empires, places she’d only ever seen in the tiny frame of a history book, and she couldn’t help but think of — HIM. She’s so many things: a debutant, vampire, a widow, a headmistress, a mother, and it’s the last that defines her most now. Everything she does here, she does for them, it’s the will coursing in her bones to move without being seen, to make moves without being heard, because they’re relying on her. And thoughts of some unexplored love only encroach on everything she’s trying to accomplish. There is only the search for a cure, it takes her through the continents, desperately sifting through ruins, ancient texts, and dried up leads from Morocco to Paris, with nothing to show for her year spent.

The possibility of the merge looms over her sleep, invading her dreams, and shaking her awake in a cold sweat. ❝ I’m trying. I’m doing my best,❞ she tells Ric in their calls, making herself into steel anytime he speaks about their girls, so the time missed doesn’t cut deeper. ❝ There’s just so much country to cover, (and it’s only me. I’m only one vampire; she doesn’t say) and every time I think I’ve found a coven to help, they move. Rome today, Paris tomorrow, it never stops Ric,❞ on the other side of the phone her heart slows, exhaustion pushing down on her heaving chest, drawing uneven breaths . Being a parent has to be easier than this she thinks most times between the spasming of muscles; her body’s a rubber band being p u l l e d beyond its elasticity.

Rome is a bust, anyone who knows anything about the Geminis are long gone, maybe a few decades ago something would have turned up, but she’s half a century late, and a dollar short. The only texts she finds on the exterminated lineage of her daughters only tell her what she already knows. If Bonnie was here — but no — she made a promise to Bonnie to leave her out, their lives have already taken so much from her. In Paris she finds a hotel overlooking the Eiffel Tower and settles in. The next few days she’ll do what she can to hit the streets and unearth whatever existing covens exist within the folds of the city that may be able to lend any scrap of information that might help. ❝ Je vais commander quelque chose de ma chambre (I will order service from my room),❞ she calls down to the front desk, because as much as she’d like to be sampling the city’s best cuisine, the truth is she’s just tired. The creases in her forehead are extra creasy, and her feet actually throb.

The little French man at concierge apologizes, “Désolé Madame, il n'y a pas deservice à l'étage à cette heure ( Apologies Ma’am, we don’t have room service at this hour).❞ Caroline simply nods, ❝ Yeah,❞ her weariness sighs outwardly in acknowledgement. Sampling cuisine it is, Caroline thinks to herself, slipping her leather knee high russet colored boots back on, over her denim blue true religion skinny jeans that fit like a second skin, paired with a sleeveless cream colored crop top, and matching cream colored leather Hermes cross body bag. Paris is suppose to be beautiful, but what no one tells you is the HORIZON is dust smeared, hazy, and grey, like London, but with better art, and dessert.

There’s a charming cafe nestled in a backdrop of eighteenth century architecture nearest the Eiffel Towers with outdoor seating. ❝ Puis-je avoir le menu s'il vous plaît? (Can I have the menu, please)?❞ The slight tripping over her pronunciations earns her an inscrutable expression from the waiter, at least she was trying. If there was anything Caroline did best, it was try.

A familiar humming starts in her veins that casts her attention out to her surroundings. The blonde vampire’s ocean hues scan over the crowds not entirely sure what to expect, but whenever he was around, even if she couldn’t see him; she could feel him, the phantom lingering of his touch over the cool of her skin — it was enough to raise the hairs on the back of her neck. This was Paris though, not Mystic Falls, not the quarter, what would Klaus Mikaelson be doing in the city of great art, and music, genuine beauty.

#@anditsxsorrows #however long it takes #your last #caught myself wishing #the vampire diaries rp #caroline x klaus

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breanime · 6 years

Text

Priorities

Requested by @castletrash: I’m loving all your billy fics! Good Enough tore at my heartstrings. I’m so excited for season 2! If you’re taking requests- would be able to write something angsty where billy keeps missing important dates/anniversaries (maybe for work?) and the reader doesn’t feel important anymore? just give me angst pls thank u I appreciate u and your writing

Sorry it took so long! I hope this is angsty enough for you!

*gif not mine*

You looked across the table and sighed. The restaurant was beautiful, with soft lighting and classical music playing in the background—the perfect kind of place for your anniversary. It had everything to make it the perfect romantic date: candles, music, excellent gourmet food, an intimate setting… Everything.

…except your date.

Billy was almost always late to your dates these days; what with Anvil getting more and more business, and him helping Frank get used to life as a civilian—he was busier than you had ever seen him. But he was always apologetic and tried to make it up to you, so you didn’t take it too hard. But you couldn’t help but be hurt by it. At first it wasn’t a big deal; Billy would show up 10 to 15 minutes late with apologies and while you were upset, you couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Then he graduated to straight up cancelling dates, which you had mixed feelings about. On one hand: it was a huge pain in the ass to have your plans changed and cancelled, but on the other hand: Billy’s way of making it up to you usually involved back spasms and orgasms so… He kind of made it easy to forgive him. Still, it wasn’t all make-up sex and cuddles. Sometimes things got… explosive.

“63 goddamn minutes,” you screamed, throwing another plate. Billy stood still, watching you destroy the dinner you’d slaved to make over an hour ago while he was busy at work. “You made me wait 63 goddamn minutes before you bothered to tell me you’d be late?!” You knocked a platter of food on the ground for emphasis.

Billy, for his part, was letting you have your meltdown; he knew you needed a minute to react; and if you couldn’t fall back on your anger, you’d probably cry. He hated that he made you feel this way. “It couldn’t wait,” he said for the 100th time, “I tried to call you, baby, but my phone broke during the job—”

“The job! That’s all you care about!” You screeched. “You pick Anvil over me every time, Billy! Every time! I’m sick of it,” you could no longer keep the tears at bay, so you spoke through the tears, “You love Anvil more than you love me!”

Billy was in front of you in a second, grabbing your shoulders and staring down at you with wide, dark eyes. They gleamed with emotion as you looked up into them. “Don’t…” His voice broke. “Don’t ever say that again. I love you more than anything, Y/N, more than life itself. I love you so much.” Carefully, he wiped a tear from your cheek. “I know it doesn’t feel like that right now, and that’s my fault, but it’s true, I love you so much, Y/N. Please, don’t… Please don’t say that again.”

You sniffled, and Billy’s heart broke. “But that’s how it feels.”

Billy nodded, still holding your face in his hand. “I know. I’m sorry.” Slowly, he bent down, giving you time to move or push him away if you wanted to. You stayed where you were. “I’ll do better, baby, I promise, just please… I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell as you looked into his perfectly dark eyes. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, and you felt him relax against you. He carried you, bridal-style, to the bedroom and spent the next few hours pleasuring you in every way possible, apologizing to you and more than telling you he loved you—he showed you. You two came up with a procedure after that day: if Billy was late or M.I.A, you were to call his office and if he didn’t get back to you in 10 minutes tops, you were to call Frank, and from there, you could usually get in contact with Billy. It worked; and while Billy was still late to your dates, he hadn’t cancelled one in a while, so you were okay with your new system. Billy had even added an addendum to your agreement: if he was more than 20 minutes late, he owed you 20 minutes of the foreplay of your choice, and as much as you enjoyed that, you were glad that he was rarely that late after your last blow out.

But now he was over an hour late. Your phone was on the table, next to a glass of white wine, and had a total of zero texts or calls from Billy. That was…unusual. Billy always texted or called to let you know he would be late or that he was on his way. You were starting to get worried.

Two hours in you called Billy’s phone. No answer. Having played this game before, you dialed his office, swirling your wine in the glass as you waited for the call to be intercepted by Billy’s secretary.

“Billy Russo’s office, how can I—”

“—Hey Gloria,” you said between a sigh, “Is Billy there?”

“Oh, no, Ms. Y/N, he left about four hours ago. He isn’t at the restaurant?” You heard papers shuffling on her end and knew she was looking through itineraries and memos.

“No, and I can’t get him on his cell either…” You put the wine down and signaled the waiter. “You know what, don’t worry about it, Gloria, I’ll give him a little longer to show up. Have a good night.” You hung up, satisfied with your simple plan, and ordered a drink.

Three hours and several drinks later, you were…not a mess, but mess-adjacent. You had called Billy, and Frank, then called Billy again…no answer. You were just a tad bit drunk, so you finally caved, called a cab, and went home to nurse your wounded pride.

Billy had never stood you up for a date before—let alone an anniversary. You were worried sick. Your mind conjured up images of him bloody and broken, of his lifeless body in some grey, gritty alley somewhere. You paced around your apartment, an iron grip on your phone, and tried to think of where Billy could be. You nearly screamed when your phone rang and did when you saw who was calling.

“Billy,” you gasped out, stopping dead in your tracks, “where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said easily, “me and Frankie made some headway with the Albanians and now we’re on our way to Philly to do some negotiations—”

“Philly?” You repeated, blinking in confusion. “I… what about tonight?”

“Tonight?” There was a pause, and you knew wheels were turning in Billy’s head. “Shit… I forgot. Baby, I’m—”

You didn’t wait to hear the rest. You saw red, and you didn’t even bother hanging up the phone before you threw it at the wall. The resulting crash and scattering of little pieces did nothing to ease the rage. You grabbed your overnight bag—which you kept packed and ready for impromptu stays at Billy’s—and stomped out of your apartment. You were done. You were beyond done, even. A part of you wanted to go to Karen and bawl your eyes out, but another part of you wanted to avoid Billy at all costs, and you knew he would easily find you there. It was the same with Curtis. Your rage had sobered you right up, so you drove around town for a few hours, seeing nothing and shaking. The anger left you just as quickly as it came, and you had to pull over to sob into the steering wheel.

You had never felt so unimportant, so insignificant in your whole life. Billy was everything to you; he was your sun and moon, your happiness, your joy—but you meant nothing to him. Forget competing against the women who were in and out of his life, you couldn’t even compete with his job. You could never match the thrill, the satisfaction Anvil gave Billy—and the more you thought about it, the dumber you felt for even trying. You stared at your hands, still gripping the wheel. They were shaking along with the rest of you. You had been content before Billy had come into your life, but now? Now that you had felt the immense warmth of his love? Now that you had seen him, sleepy-eyed and soft in the morning, reaching out for you? Now that you had been cocooned in the safety of his arms? You wouldn’t go so far as to say Billy had broken you—no man could break you—but he had ruined you for anyone else. You knew your life after him would be grey and cold, and worse still: you knew you deserved better.

You checked into a hotel a little bit after that and cried into the stale pillow until your body was out of tears. You could see every time Billy smiled at you, every time he kissed you, touched you, caressed you. In your mind, you could hear his voice, soft with a slight New York accent, telling you he loved you a million times. It was like you could almost feel his arms around you, and you tried to hold onto those memories, knowing that there would be no more.

Puffy-eyed and exhausted, you made your way to the hotel communication center, where they had several computers and a phone. The first thing you did was call Curtis and leave a voicemail saying you were fine, you just needed some time alone, and not to worry. Then you called your work, requested a few days off, and told them you were “taking a vacation”. Satisfied with the updates you’d given; your next call was to Karen.

“Hey,” you had said, voice weary, “it’s me.”

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Karen sounded out of breath, “where are you? Are you okay? Tell me where you are, and I’ll be there—we were all so worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” you swallowed, “I just… I want to be alone.”

“Tell me where you are,” you heard the sound of clothes rustling and knew Karen was putting on a jacket, “I won’t tell Billy, but just tell me where you are.”

“I’m safe,” you closed your eyes, feeling more tired than you’d ever felt in your whole life, “Listen, I need a favor. I can’t do it myself, but could you tell Billy it’s over?”

“Y/N, he’s a mess, he just wants to talk to you—”

“—Please Karen.” You shook your head, feeling a headache coming on, “I need you to do this for me. Please say you’ll do this for me.”

“I will,” she sounded out of breath, “I’ll do it right now, just tell me where you are—”

“—I’ll be back in a few days,” you cut her off, “thanks, Karen.” You hung up, went back to your room, and grabbed your bag. Karen was a smart woman. She’d track you down by the hotel number and be there within the hour—possibly with Billy. You couldn’t have that. You made yourself a cup of coffee to go before hopping back into your car and driving off.

You had no purpose, no plan, beyond ‘get away from Billy’, and it wasn’t until the sun came up and you crossed state lines that you started to feel sleepy. You considered pulling over and sleeping on the side of the road but weren’t comfortable with that idea. So, you stuck it out until you got to a motel.

You didn’t have the energy to shower or even unpack; you flopped onto the bed, fully dressed, and passed out.

You woke up to the sounds of birds chirping. You rubbed your eyes, and sighed into the emptiness. Everything came back to you in a rush, and you felt your heart break all over again. You missed Billy—which was ridiculous! He did this to you. Sitting up, you picked up the phone and dialed your own number. You listened to the most recent voicemail, from Karen.

“Tell me where you are,” she was shouting into the receiver, “Call me back and tell me where you are RIGHT NOW, Y/N! Billy is worried sick, and so am I and we—we just need to know you’re okay. Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you, just me.” It sounded like she was crying. “Please Y/N, this isn’t like you, it’s dangerous out there.” She sighed. “Call me.”

The next message was from Frank. “This is my fault. I made Bill miss your anniversary, we were…” He grunted. “Doesn’t matter what we were doing, just know that this is on me.” There was a sound in the background, a harsh crash or something. “Bill’s out of his mind, he won’t eat he, he won’t sleep—” another crash—“just give us a call, Y/N.”

You sniffled as you deleted the message and listened to the next one.

“Hey, Y/N,” it was Curtis, “I know you’re hurt, I know you’re pissed, but we’re all worried about you. Just give us one of us a call, sweetheart, okay?” He sighed, and you could almost see Curtis’ kind, sad face. “Billy’s coming undone. He needs you. Just tell us you’re okay, all right?”

You imagined Billy throwing things, cursing, screaming and yelling, and it didn’t make you feel any better at all. If anything, it made you ache for him more. He hurt you, yes, but the last thing you wanted was for him to suffer. The next voicemail message was short but took your breath away all the same.

“You got 24 hours to call me,” Billy’s voice was cold, “before I come and get you.” There was a pause. “I love you.”

You were crying softly now and played the next message. It was Frank, Frank, Curtis, Karen, your mom, Frank again, and then…

“Please.” You had never heard Billy’s voice like that before. It was shaky and broken and scared. So scared. “Baby, please… I am so, so sorry that I forgot our anniversary. I’m an asshole, I know, I messed everything up. But please, baby, just tell me you’re okay, tell me you’re safe, please, I need to know you’re safe.” He took a breath and you heard him sniffle. “I…” You could hear the tears in his voice, and it made your heart break. “I fucked it all up. I knew I would. I knew I’d do something to…” He inhaled sharply. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Better than war, better than money, better than Anvil, and I should have made you feel like that, because it’s true. You make me so happy, and I…” His voice sounded muffled, like he had his hand over his face. “God, I made you feel unloved and alone and abandoned. I am so, so sorry baby, I love you so much. I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve you, and that I fucked everything up and that I probably…I probably lost you forever, but please… Call me back—or Frank or Karen or Curtis. Please…

…I love you.”

You put the phone down, stared at the ceiling for a moment, and broke down crying. It was a good cry—the whole body shaking kind of cry, the come to Jesus kind of cry. You were angry, and hurt, and had every right to be—but you loved him. You loved Billy Russo more than you loved yourself, he was everything to you. But there could be no middle ground, you couldn’t keep playing second fiddle to Billy’s work, you couldn’t keep being abandoned by him. The hurt was too much. But this… Running away, hearing Billy beg you to call him—this wasn’t any better.

It couldn’t continue.

You picked the phone back up and dialed without looking at the numbers. You had them memorized.

“Y/N—” Billy began. His voice sounded strained, probably from all the yelling you assumed he’d been doing.

“—I’m in Connecticut,” you said, “I’m fine, I’m safe, I’m gonna stay here for a few days, and I don’t want to see you when I get back.” With that you hung up. The phone rang immediately, but you ignored it. You went down to the lobby, had some breakfast, and then came back to your room for a shower. The phone had a little red light blinking on and off that let you know you had messages, but you walked right passed it.

You thought a lot about Billy and what you would do when you got home while you were in the shower. You had told Karen that you were done with him, but you honestly couldn’t see yourself without him. You loved him. But you had choices to make: forgive him or let him go. Both seemed impossible.

Your phone was ringing when you got out of the shower, and you considered answering it. Instead, you shook your head, grabbed your purse, and headed for the door. You’d seen a diner across the street when you’d gone down to breakfast and decided to treat yourself to a carb-heavy lunch. You flung open the door, renewed after your shower, and froze in your steps.

Billy stood in front of you, cell phone at his ear, staring at you.

His hair was messy, and he was wearing his black combat gear. You guessed he hadn’t changed—or slept—since you both had been in New York. There were bags under his dark eyes, and you could see that he had been crying by the red in them. He put the phone into his pocket as he stared at you. “You said you didn’t want to see me when you got back, so… I came to see you.”

“You—how did you get here so fast?” You asked, hand still on the doorknob.

“Made a few calls, chartered a chopper to bring me here,” he answered. “Can I come in?”

You stepped back, letting Billy come into the room. It seemed much smaller with the two of you standing in it. Billy seemed smaller—deflated somehow—and you swallowed down the urge to hold him.

He glanced around the room, eyes weary, before settling back to you. “You okay?” He asked. “Are—are you hurt? Are you safe?”

You nodded. “I’m fine.” You wanted to ask how he was, but you could tell just by looking at him. He was a mess. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I haven’t slept since you left me.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I trashed my office, broke everything in my apartment, called in all kinds of favors to track you down…”

“Well, here I am,” you plopped onto the bed and sighed, “Billy, I… I don’t even know what to say to you,” you looked up at him and felt tears well up in your eyes, “you promised you’d do better,” your voice broke, “You lied to me.”

Billy dropped to his knees in front of you but didn’t touch you. “I know,” his eyes were shining, “I broke my promise and I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, you deserve better than this, better from me.”

“I do,” you whimpered. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep it together.

Billy reached out and put his hands on your knees. His touch warmed you to the core. “I’m so sorry, baby. Frank needed my help, and I thought I had time to help him and make it to dinner, but…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I made a promise to you and I broke it. And if,” he ducked his head down before bringing it back up, eyes swimming in unshed tears, “if you have to leave me, I get it… I fucked up. I fucked up so many times and you were so patient, and I took advantage of that. I don’t deserve you. I never deserved you.” He took a shuddering breath, and you knew he was steadying himself for whatever he had to say next. “I love you so much, Y/N, and I’ll always love you, but… if you tell me that you never want to see me again…” His eyes bore into yours and you could see the sincerity in them. “I’ll honor it.”

The tears fell down your face, hot and warm, and you licked your lips, searching for the words to say. You looked down into the face of the man you loved and felt your heart splinter. You loved Billy, you needed him like you needed air to breath, but he hurt you. He hurt you so bad and you felt like you couldn’t trust him. “I don’t want that,” you said, putting your hands over Billy’s on your knees, “but I can’t just forget and forgive. I can’t trust you. I love you, Billy, I love you so much, but you…” You took a deep breath. “…You put work ahead of me every time and I can’t take it anymore. I can’t live like that anymore.”

“I know,” he nodded, eyes never leaving yours, “I know, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too,” his voice wavered, and you wiped a tear from the edge of his eye.

You took another breath, staring down at Billy. “I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t do this with you anymore, I can’t keep being a footnote in your life.” You leaned forward and placed both hands on either side of Billy’s face. “If I ask you to do something, will you do it?”

“I’d do anything for you,” he said, no hesitation and nothing but honesty in his eyes.

“I need another few days here,” you said, “and I need you to go.” You took a deep breath and continued on. “I want all of your stuff out of my apartment by the time I get back.” Billy’s dark eyes shone with sorrow at your words, but he didn’t interrupt. “I think… I think I’m gonna need some time before I can be with you again, but if you’ll wait—”

“—of course I’ll wait,” Billy promised, nodding.

“—then maybe we can get back to where we were,” you finished, “because I really do love you, Billy.”

“I love you, too,” he said back.

With tears rolling down your cheeks, you pulled him towards you and held him in your arms. He was shaking, and you kissed the side of his face. God, you loved this man. You didn’t know how long the two of you stayed huddled up like that; half of you on the bed and the other half crouched on the floor with Billy, but neither of you were still crying by the time you separated.

You smiled weakly at Billy, running your hands through his thick, dark hair. “I’ll see you in New York,” you said.

He smiled back. “See you in New York.”

You ended up staying in Connecticut for another five days before heading home to New York. Billy was true to his word; he had cleared your apartment of all of his stuff and left a new phone for you by the time you got back. You invited Karen over for brunch the day you got back and had a tearful reunion. You met with Curtis for drinks later that day but didn’t bother to hit up Frank—you knew that he knew you were in town. Plus, you didn’t want to take him away from Billy. You didn’t want Billy to be alone.

You went back to work and re-established your routines without Billy. It was strange and lonely, but you felt a sense of clarity with each day. Going to sleep alone wasn’t fun, especially since you were craving Billy’s warmth, but you needed the time to think. A couple of weeks after your return, you got an envelope in the mail from Billy. It contained an article from the paper saying that Billy had taken a sabbatical from Anvil and handed over the reins to Frank and Curtis. According to the article, Billy was still the CEO of the company, but his hours were cut in half and he would no longer be a part of missions that took place outside of the city. With the article came a handwritten note, and you smiled, recognizing Billy’s handwriting immediately.

Dear Y/N,

I didn’t know if you would see this, so I decided to send it to you myself. I know this won’t fix what I did, or make up for the way I treated you, but I hope it’s a start. I changed my number (putting it on the back of this note). Please give me a call whenever you want. I’ll be waiting.

I’ll always wait for you.

I love you. I miss you.

--Billy Russo

You turned the paper over and saw his number. He probably changed it to avoid some of his old contacts. When you turned it back, your eyes fell to the last line. I love you. I miss you. You brought the paper to your lips and kissed it. Billy wasn’t perfect, but he was yours and you loved him. He was working on himself—and so were you—and that was all you could ask for. You picked up your phone and dialed the number, your fingers moving swiftly with nervous excitement.

Billy picked up on the first ring. “Y/N,” he said, sounding entranced.

“Hi, Billy, I got your letter,” your heart started pounding the second you heard his voice, “Looks like you have some time on your hands.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he said back, “How are you?”

“Fine. Listen, I was wondering…if you had some time next week, maybe we could meet up?”

“I have time now,” Billy’s voice was rushed, “I could be at your place in less than 15 minutes or—” he paused, clearing his throat, “—or I can wait till next week. Of course. Where would you like to meet?”

You put your finger on your chin and pondered his question. Technically, you could wait another week to see Billy, and it could be at a neutral location, but… You didn’t want to wait. You wanted to see him, to hold him. You weren’t necessarily ready to jump all the way back in with Billy, but you’d had enough of being without him. You loved him and were ready to move things forward with him. “Fifteen minutes, huh?” You said, leaning against your kitchen counter with a smirk, “I’m starting the clock now.”

You could almost feel Billy’s smile on the other end od the line. “I’ll make it in ten,” he promised.

You laughed. There was still a lot of work to be done between you and Billy to fix your relationship, but you were willing to do it for as long as Billy was. And he was down for the long run, no matter how hard it could be—and you could tell he was sincere in his dedication.

True to his word—a habit he was determined to keep up with—Billy was at your door in less than 11 minutes. He looked so good, eyes wide and eager, and you felt your love for him well up in your chest like helium in a balloon. You never felt a love as strong as you felt for Billy, and you knew, in that moment, that even though things weren’t always perfect and could be tough, you knew that you wanted to be with Billy for the rest of your life. You took him in your arms then and felt like the jigsaw puzzle that was your life was complete.

From that day on, Billy was never late to any of your dates ever again. Things didn’t pick up exactly where you’d left out, but that ended up being better for the both of you in the long run. You loved Billy, and he loved you, and he spent every day of the rest of your lives making sure you knew that.

You couldn’t have been happier.

***************************************************************************************

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Thank you for reading, guys! Please let me know how you think about this one. I need validation!

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #the punisher #priorities

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ursoself-satisfying · 6 years

Text

Whole Lotta Love

P A T M U R R A Y (Undrafted) x F!Reader, SMUT

Warnings: smut, lots of it, language, like all the sex guys all of it guys,,, SPOILER: UNSAFE SEX THEY DISCARD THE CONDOM WRAP IT BEFORE U TAP IT BOYS N GIRLS

A/N: this is my zenic,, its 10k words n I am v tired,,,, I hope you all enjoy sorry its late lol

an accompanying playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/criceloni/playlist/5sP9FcSsFcPjFodxN1E5RY?si=dNK4SdE2RoSRcqhN99dntg

The engine of your car sputtered weakly as you turned the key for the third time. You pursed your lips and grunted as you screwed your whole arm around, twisting the key in the ignition again. The hot sun beat against the grimy, untinted windows of the old van and your skin boiled under the magnification of the glass. Drops of sweat limply slipped down the side of your face, sizzling when they hit the leather between the seats. The day was nice, but the interior of the vehicle was sweltering and stunk of burgers and sex. You groaned loudly and threw your head back tiredly. With your eyes closed, you tiredly and hopelessly went to turn the car on one last time, dreading the spitting sound that you expected to greet you. You were indeed greeted by the same annoying noise, burned into your eardrums by now, but it faded after a moment, the harsh metallic sounds blending into a solid purr as the engine started, radio turning on to the classic rock station. Shooting up out of your seat in shock, both at the sound and the unexpected success, your hands slammed against your steering wheel and your mouth hung open. “Oh my God,” you muttered, “Oh my God! Thank you, God!” You shouted at the roof of the car and you let out a dry sob. The wet lines down your face could have been sweat or tears, or both at this point. Loud thrums echoed through the cabin of the vehicle as you drummed your hands against the soft roof excitedly, shaking your head in a grateful spasm of relief. “YES! Oh my God, yes, thank you.” The soft whispers left your lips in the form of a laugh and you gripped the steering wheel tightly, taking a deep breath and smiling widely. The next thing you did was roll down the windows and sigh as the clear, blue sky blessed you with fresh air, letting The Who play you out. The gas pedal was pushed down and you made your way from the curb where you’d been sitting for the last half an hour. The VW bus bounced, “My Generation” fading as you turned a corner and made your way to the game.

Your sputtering horseless carriage shuttered to a stop and felt like it would cave in and collapse once in park. With a shake, you turned off on a ‘don’t text and drive’ PSA, the engine and rolled up the dirty windows. Manually locking the door behind you, you exited the rusted green car and headed towards the greener field. You rolled your eyes as you passed a large bus undoubtedly belonging to the opposing team. You doubted it was necessary and would have guessed it was more of a petty power move if anything. A small group of people, not yet a crowd, was gathered by the fences of the baseball field watching the game. It had already begun and you’d missed the first few innings. You searched the crowd for a familiar figure until you spotted a red shirt and jogged over to it. “Brian!”

The man turned to see you waving your hand happily above your head. He turned once he recognized you and laughed heartily with open arms. “[Y/N]!”

Once you reached him, he wrapped his strong arms around you and lightly picked you up. You did your best to return the embrace but he held you too tightly. His cotton button up smelled strongly of a flower-scented detergent and a gas station, comforting and familial. Your laughs mixed and you remained leaned against him when he put you down. “Mr. Murray,” you started playfully, “How are you on this fine day?” The older man patted your back and chuckled.

“Well, I could be doing a hell of a lot better.” Brian looked out at the game, Barone at-bat, and took a deep sigh. You scanned his face with concern, catching the glaze of sadness in his eyes. You softly placed a hand on his shoulder, unsure of what happened exactly, but having an idea.

You turned your head back and look around you for Brian’s almost other half, but seeing the older Mazzello nowhere. You felt safe enough to ask, “He didn’t get it, did he? John-” He shook his head quickly, not turning towards you. You wanted to ask how Pat was taking it but you could figure it out based on your past experiences. You weren’t sure Brian would know at this point anyway. For a moment, you just watched the game. Barone wouldn’t slide and Ty was clearly upset. All you could hear were the curse words carried to you by the light wind picking up. You squeezed Brian’s arm gently and gave him a sympathetic smile, before gulping and beginning to say something. “So then where’s-”

Joe walked up beside Brian and handing him a bottle of water from his trip to concessions. The shorter man glanced over and stopped when he caught sight of you. “Oh, [Y/N]-”

“Hey, Joe,” you replied softly. The man beside stepped back to allow you to give a quick embrace to the new arrival. You stepped back and smiled, biting your lip. “I’m sorry,” you spoke quickly, “He deserved it. John’s-” A stifled laugh interrupted your sentence, but you continued, “Not that I would know, but he’s the best, I hear. He should have gotten it. That’s- That’s so stupid-”

“He’s got some offers, but there’s not much we can do now that it’s over.” Leaning against the fence, the dark-haired man took a swig from the bottle he held and smiled faintly back at you though he kept his attention on the game before him. “Now we just play.”

Though you’d missed the first five innings at least, Brian filled you in on how the game had gone on with as many bumps and hitches as you could possibly imagine. The D-Backs were down (though you honestly wouldn’t have expected otherwise) and hoped for a comeback. Ty interrupts Barone’s play to demand he dirty his uniform, a call is unfairly continued and Ty (again) interrupts and demands his complaint be noted, which had been happening just as you’d arrived.

You were there just in time to see Pat’s second at-bat. “C’mon, baby, you got this! Hit it out of the fuckin’ park!” You were screaming and hollering encouragements at your boyfriend. His father chuckled and gave you a side-eyed glance, a glint of understanding gleaming on his face, seeing again why you and his son got on so well. “He’s not gonna get a hit,” you said quietly to the man beside you, not taking your eyes off the boy at bat.

Brian nodded, smiling. “Never does.” Both of watched as the third pitch was thrown and Pat unsurprising did not get a home run. He let out a long and frustrated scream and hit the bat against his helmet instead before heading to the dugout. The bat Pat had used broke against the fence pole as he hit it repeatedly and cursed the ‘loaded fucking bases’.

Pat then ran to his position in the outfield as he was told but it was clear he hadn’t cooled down yet by his continued yells. If you knew Pat Murray, you knew what he sounded like when he said ‘fuck’. By now, his curses were carved into your ears and you could hear them in your dreams. He yelled and yelled as the game continued, with some concern shown by his teammates and some confusion by the competition. Vinnie had attempted to diffuse the situation by engaging in a friendly game of catch between bats but Murray firmly stuck the ball in the scoreboard. He very nearly took Zapata’s head off.

“Is he like this at home?” The elder Murray let a smile tweak his lips upwards for a moment, then looked away from the comment. You leaned over the fence n suppressed a laugh at what John had said.

As the game went on, you could tell things would only get worse until it all imploded, and you were right. Brian shared a tired, knowing look with you as you could both hear him yelling from the dugout. “YOU THROW LIKE A BITCH AND YOU BAT AT .250!”

Brian rocked back and look between you and his friend, shaking his head. “Patrick, relax!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, DAD!”

He nodded and leaned back against the fence. “That’s my boy.” Laughing, you bounced against his side. John shrugged his shoulders and gave an exaggerated frown of acceptance. The game lasted a while before another notable event occurred. This time, was an unsportsmanlike fight erupting after an unfair play and a sudden injury. It all happened so quickly it was hard to comprehend.

Garvey was slammed into the ground by an opposing player and when they hit the dirt a cloud of red dust rose around them. An audible thud echoed as the crowd went silent. Your mouth hung open and the world stood still for what felt like forever as the small catcher laid there unmoving. Then Ty erupted. He grabbed the assaulter from behind and held him down, Vinnie running to leap into a punch. That was the instigator. The rest of the team, with the exception of Fotch, raced to the scene. The riot on the field got worse and once John ran out, Joe bounced off his arms on the fence and rushed just as you had to stop his son. You could hear your boyfriend shouting and mentally cursed, knowing how this would turn out.

“Pat, fuck-” You went to lift yourself over the fence and attempt to run after your lover in an effort to keep him from hurting anyone, but his father pulled you back. He gave you a stern look and shook his head.

“I don’t need you getting in any more trouble right now.” Without anymore protest, you huffed and took your place again. Brian yelled after the boys and jogged out onto the field himself, though he was sure to look back and give you a strict but caring sign to stay back.

You had been right in your earlier assumptions, as Pat charged with a battle cry and pounced on the bobbing mass of bodies, all angrily entangled with one another. More and more athletes seemed to be absorbed into the huddle the longer it went on until it's magnitude reached the crowds of onlookers, who soon after went to join. As the fathers ripped their sons from the mess, Brian stopped a member of the other team from adding a bat to the fight, but by the time the teams had been surgically separated, enough damage had been done. Garvey was in bad, bad shape and the rest of the team was covered in scrapes and bruises, uniforms in shambles and carrying expressions that could kill.

Brian remained out on the field for a few minutes, post scuffle, and Joe went to his son at Garvey’s side. With no one left to stop you from making your way to the scene, you stepped for the first time onto the sacred ground and jogged over to the pit with a wave, “Patrick!” The man turned at his name being called and you stopped in your place when he looked at you. For a moment, you thought you saw a small smile grace his shaking lips as his eyes shone with recognition and he made his way to you. Closing the distance between the two of you, he took you into his sweaty arms and held you perfectly against him. You fit like a puzzle piece together as your own arms were slung around him. He held your head tightly to the crook of his neck and you could smell on him all the events of the day. As you inhaled the scents of dirt and a bit of blood caked onto sweat-soaked skin and leftover aftershave, maybe the hints of a citrus shampoo, you pulled handfuls of his team shirt into your balled fists. Together you swayed for a moment in the middle of the field and he muttered, “Fuck, God- Fuck, I’m so glad you’re here- So fuckin-” He stopped his profane murmurs as he bit back something directly in between happiness and anger. “I’m just so glad you’re here.”

You responded with pressed whispers against the skin of his neck ignoring the previous events and focusing on the moment you were in. “Hey,” you breathed, “I wouldn’t have missed the D-Backs’ last game for the world.”

He smiled, though you couldn’t see. His muffled response was kissed into your hair. You couldn’t quite understand what he’d said but it sounded like something along the lines of, ‘God, I fucking love you,’ which you completely reciprocated.

One hand of yours strayed from his back to his head and held the hair protruding from beneath hat. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said again, softer this time, emphasizing how much your being there for him meant. “But I can’t fucking wait to get you alone.” He finished his statement quietly, in a voice that sent shivers down your spine, hot and dark, every vertebra quaking. His own hands mapped the back of your neck, threading his calloused, bloody fingers through your locks, holding you with a fear of losing you.

“I’m just glad you’re o-”

The quiet conversation was interrupted. “Get a room, Murray!” A voice yelled from the group of red behind him. It was most likely Barone or Polacco, the only two in a good enough mood after the previous events to pay enough attention to you to make any kind of crude comment like usual.

Pat pulled away, lips spread thin and eyes low. His hands moved to grip your upper arms tightly and he slowly turned his head back to look at the clever commentators. “Shut the FUCK UP ABOUT MY GODDAMN GIRLFRIEND!” Your eyes widen and a sheepish grin spread widely between your cheeks. When he turned back to you, you lifted your hand to hold his face. His eyes were tied to yours, but your gaze soon drifted down to the lightly bleeding scratches on his neck. You frowned and your fingertips dropped to trace over the red lines. The man holding you still, softer now, hissed at the raw contact and his pleading eyes twitched.

His hand rose to wipe at your left cheek, stained from his wound and your place in the crook of his neck. He didn’t move it though after placing it there. “You- There was some blood- Fuck, that’s so gross, I’m so fuckin’ sorry-” His head shook lightly as he stared at you, lip twitching with slight distress.

You responded with a soft laugh, breathed through your nostrils. “It’s ok- It’s ok! I’m sorry you got hurt,” you said as you wiped some of the blood from around the new wound. Pat looked pained, but your presence overcame any discomfort he had. “What a game, huh?”

You chuckled and he hummed near your ear, a pleased puff of air pushed through his nostrils. “I’m so fucking glad you’re here- It’s a better game now. I know it’s not gonna actually get better, but-” Pat moved back and looked at you with gleaming eyes. You could never resist those eyes. He seemed so hopeful since he’d learned of your arrival and you weren’t going to even think about how vain it might have been. “But you’re here, you know.”

You moved your hands swiftly to the sides of his face and pulled him down for a kiss. Though it took him a moment, he quickly pulled you against him and his plush lips pushed against yours. His arms around your waist were the only things keeping you upright as the two of you collided so passionately you arched against him. He pulled slightly back to turn his head and slip through your parted lips. He tasted of vanilla ice cream and blue raspberry Gatorade. Tongues pushing needily against each other, for just a moment, the field around you was lost and all you had was the sensation of Pat Murray buzzing through your lips.

“Ey, Murray-!” A sing-songy voice interrupted again and immediately Pat painfully yanked your face from his. With a clenched jaw and white knuckles still on your figure, he wiped the shared saliva from his mouth and looked like he was refraining from erupted in a trembling angry fit. One hand swept down the side of your face with a dazed expression of admiration and he made eye contact with you, sending you his concern through soft, hazel eyes. You felt the sudden sadness of his body leaving yours, the physical contact high of your love crashed down and you were left hot and alone. The player ran back to the benches spewing foul curses at his ogling teammates as they threw around playful jabs at his PDA. He turned to wave you off and that made you smile. You stepped backward, slowly at first, then turned to jog back to your spot at the fence.

The crowds grew but the sound shrunk. Spectators came from around the neighborhood as word of the fight had spread. It was silent now, in the aftermath. It felt like a sort of mourning period, perhaps for the final chances of the D-Backs at winning today’s game. Reverence was the word to describe what was emanating from the home team. The dugout looked morbid and the only eyes that weren't cast down were furrowed in anger, confusion, and concern. Sirens cut through the still, religious air as an ambulance and a police car drove onto the game dirt.

Two EMTs came barrelling from their vehicle with a gurney and lifted Garvey into the back of the ambulance. The teams cheered him on before the vehicle doors closed and the ambulance left the field. The last image of Garvey was that of him in a neck cast with a thumbs up and the biggest smile.

Two cops then got out of their car that had parked itself on the dirt and went over to the D-Back dugout. Vinnie and Ty sat against the fence as the policemen approached them after speaking with the umpires. “Tyler Delmonica and Vincent Maltzan?”

You watched with the fathers as you had before and smacked Brian’s arm with fever as you saw the lawmen approach the team. “What the fuck- What’s- What the fuck are they doing?” With a slightly irritated side-eyed glance, Brian observed the same scene you did with concern. The elder Mazzello on the other side of him grunted and spoke, “Nothing good.”

The two from the fence had gone over to the cops and were now in handcuffs. The entirety of the red team had come swarming from the shaded dugout to defend their friends. Curses were thrown back and forth and the policeman threatened to arrest Dells as well. “Dude, what the fuck-” you muttered.

“Finish the game!” Ty urged as he and Vinnie were dragged away. The other policeman countered Ty’s plea, announcing for an end to the gathering, at which time both teams emerged from their holes and agreed upon something for the first time. ‘We’re almost done!’ they said, ‘We’re winning!’ The crowd, which had grown exponentially since the scuffle, jeered and booed at the officer. He then complied to the masses as Maz promised they would go on with no further complications. The Bulldogs player that had put poor Garv in the hospital was expulsed and that was the end of it.

The game went on, not without some drama, of course, but it went on. It was an incredible sight. Dells was on fire, throwing out after out after out. Zapata gets a hit, Fotch walks with a dead arm (breaking Dell’s front car window in the process), then it was Pat at-bat, again.

He hit the first one and your breathing stopped, then it was announced a foul. You held tightly to his father’s arm, praying for the impossible as you did every game. The second ball went in slow motion as it headed towards him. The world stood still for you. The sudden smack of wood against hot leather shook you from your trance. Patrick ran with a fury you’d never seen before, sliding into first base in a red dust cloud of victory.

You could barely recognize your own voice in the scream you let loose as you watched your significant other accomplish such a rare feat. “YES, PATTY, YES! FUCKING GET IT!” You were jumping up and down, shaking the fence, hitting Brian when your hands weren’t waving excitedly in the air. Brian laughed at your reaction and held you with an arm when you settled down.

Patrick screamed and jumped just as you were. “I GOT A HIT!” The crowd was still roaring, the D-Backs yelling for him.

“Way to go, Pat!” Brian hugged you and wiped tears from eyes you hadn’t noticed falling before. The older man shook you affectionately against his side.

“I GUESSED! I FUCKING GUESSED!” The ginger was kept his yelling as the blue team called for time. “I’M NOT OUT!” He clapped and laughed, calling after his team as they prepped during the other team's timeout. Maybe it was just you but the air smelled sweet now, beside your considered family in an epic and cherished moment. It may have been bittersweet but it was worth savoring every second of.

“GO PALACCO! KILL HIM! MURDER HIM!” Pat was still screaming as his teammate took to the batting mound. It went Palacco, then David, then Maz. Having two strikeouts lead to your star didn’t seem like a good sign, but Maz was a miracle man. A home run, last bat, and they- They won. The D-Backs won. Maz hit home and the entire game, everything leading up to it erupted in the field and the crowds. The culmination of an entire season, all the stress of the game, the fight, the disappointment of the draft, the love of the team and the camaraderie and support they all show through all this exploded.

Red shirts were glued in a huddle at center field. “For Garvey!” You heard someone yell. Vinnie and Ty came running back on, leaping and whooping. The crowd roared and the cheers rolled over the hills beyond the field. You shook with pride, sure you must have been glowing like the sun looking out upon the victory. Brian looked on the verge of tears, but you couldn’t quite tell through wet eyes of your own. Sound seemed to escape the reality you existed in and all that mattered was the team. Time slowed and your focus went to tunnel vision on a very specific first-time hitter.

Patrick ran over to you the second you set foot on the beaten dirt of the outfield, ambushing you with the tightest embrace you may have ever been in. It took a second but you thrust your arms around him as well as he lifted you from your waist. Holding onto him around his neck, he spun you in tight circles as you both laughed heartily, buried in one another’s soft scents. As he put you down, you started to speak but he cut you off immediately by pushing his face into yours. You did not mind one bit as you resumed your position from earlier, curving against him, your front flat against his chest, hands tugging at his sweaty hair as his limbs slipped down your back. Tracing the dimples at the bottom of your spine, pulling at the hem of your shirt and letting his thumb kiss your skin. His other hand gripped your ass, wanting you impossibly closer. Your open-mouthed kiss was outlined by a smile as you groaned every time he found a new place on your body to caress. Pat was lost in your taste, like lemon cookies and cherry slushies and little league baseball games.

“C’mon, man! Your fucking dad’s here!” Zapata groaned and Palacco smacked his arm with a laugh as the team, those distracted by the couple, made faces and sounds to tease. Barone made a thrusting motion and mouthed ‘Get it!’ as his own girlfriend stood neglected behind him.

The pair of you separated to see the what antics the boys had come up with this time around. Though you thought Pat’s good mood after the win couldn’t be bent, this came awfully close. His grimace was incomparable yet that was just another reason you loved him. Somehow it was still adorable. “He’s right, you know,” you patted your lover’s dusty chest and smiled, “I’ve been hanging out with Mr. Murray the whole game and he probably saw all that.” Pat glanced back at you before looking behind you and quickly, guiltily, pulling his hands from your ass.

‘Perfect timing,’ you thought, as you could guess exactly who it was. Brian was kind enough not to mention anything as he approached his son. The father gave you a pat on the back before embracing his son. The moment was tender as you looked on at the scene of the father/son bonding, albeit a bit awkwardly. Brian held Pat by the shoulders for a moment and they both had shining streaks down their cheeks. You didn’t hear anything that had been said but you smiled softly, overcome with love for the both of them. The graying man approached you next, rubbing your shoulder and giving you a quick hug. “You kids have fun,” he said as he walked back to Joe, “and be safe!” He winked.

“God, your dad-”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Love him, though,” you joined the number 15 player as you followed the others to the snack shack, walking arm in arm, holding as much contact as you could while still being able to walk.

Maz ended up beside you when you all sat at the picnic tables with rainbow sprinkles on vanilla ice cream in a casual post celebration gathering. This gave you the opportunity to congratulate him and at the same time express your sympathies after the draft. “I mean, it’s alright,” he’d said to you, “‘cus this is really what it’s all about right here, you know? I mean these guys-” He laughed gently as David and Palacco ‘lovingly’ assaulted Ty with several scoops of ice cream to the face, “Dad was right. They’re what it’s about. Winning is awesome, don’t get me wrong, but I wouldn’t be here without them and- and it’s all just-” Without getting emotional, he could barely say anymore. “It’s not about me. It’s about family.” John sat back against the table and chuckled.

You patted his knee as you stood. “They wouldn’t be here without you either, Maz. Regardless of where you go from here, everything you’ve done has mattered to someone, to all of them, at least.” Your boyfriend approached you and you said one last thing to the star batter before moving out, “I mean, if you could hear the way Pat talked about you, you’d think you were his girlfriend.” He laughed at this and you grinned knowing he would appreciate it. “Be proud, no doubts, you’re loved, and all that shit.”

“Thanks, [YN],” John nodded happily at you and looked down for a moment at his melting cone dripping on the grass below him. Pat stood next to you now and whispered some suggestive suggestions in your ear. Shooting the younger Mazzello a sorry look he sent you off and waved you and your lover goodbye with a sly grin. “Go on, go have fun. I’ve had enough of the longing looks, get it out of your system.”

Pat laughed lightly and slipped an arm around your waist, furrowing a confused set of eyes at his friend’s comment, then at you. It made him wonder what type of conversation the two of you’d had. He led you towards the parking lot, flipping off the team he left behind as they wolf whistled, making a lot of correct assumptions of what the two of you intended to do in your early departure. You’d left your van parked around the side of the field in the nice shade of a small grove of trees. The keys clicked in the quieter, cooler, fresher air around you. Patrick leaned against the side of the vehicle, one arm up to support himself and the other placed on his hip, ankles crossed. He watched you a bit too intently as you unlocked the cabin of your old car.

“I can feel you looking at me,” you smiled, opening the passenger’s side door to manually reach around and slide open the spacious back of the bus, turning on the car battery in the process. Leaving the keys in the ignition, turning down The Damned, but leaving it loud enough to cover what sounds may come. He watched you do this every time. It came as no wonder to him why your cherished car was in such bad shape as you left the battery running to supply a soundtrack to your lovemaking. Eyes distractedly stalled on your midsection as he looked you up and down, Pat faltered as the car shuddered when the door opened and he was thrown off his balance. He caught himself, though, and shot you a slanted grin.

“You’re just-” He bit his lip, “-so fucking hot, and you’re all mine.” Settling into the cushy, creaking back part of the carriage, you grinned expectantly.

“Am I?” You cocked your head, “Maybe you should remind me again who exactly I belong to.” Dragging every word out, you purposefully teased the impatient man, unbuttoning the top of your shorts slowly.

Like a switch, something clicked in him. His entire demeanor shifted from his almost toddler-like temper to something much more mature. Sitting spread eagle on the plush blankets you kept in the back for such occasions, you waited. He stared at you darkly, a towering shadow that filled the van’s open portal to the rest of the world. He filled in the empty space, deciding what he wanted to do first, how he would defile you in so many ways and what he would start with.

The interior smelled liked fast food, rubbing alcohol, and sweaty sex. Seeing as the main things you did in this car were eat bad food, try to clean up the stains left behind from said bad food, and, of course, fuck, the medley of scents came as no surprise. Around you were an array of cushions, blankets, and pillows all extremely soft to the touch. Not an inch of the original upholstery could be seen under the collection of plush covers. This made for the ideal landing as Pat pounced on you like a starved jungle cat as you look so very appetizing against the grey of the fur throw you laid on.

With him on top of you, you grabbed his cap and threw it to the side, kicking the door closed with your foot. Already against your lips, Pat straddled you, one hand on your waist and the other your cheek. The tops of your thighs pressed against the backs of his laying sideways in the cramped space. Holding his face to yours, his stiff, sweat dried hair curling between your fingers, you moaned. He smelled hotly of dust and fire, like a childhood summer day. The intimacy of the flood of memories he reminded you of only increased the sensation for you, heightening your attraction to him in a familiar, safe emotion.

His lips moved against yours, both of you sharing the same rhythm like singing along to an old song you never really could forget the words to. Open mouths clashed, teeth hit teeth, tongues knotted with tongues. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek as his wet kisses traveled down your face hitting your chin, your neck, your collarbone. Simultaneously, his hand pushed up your top, the other lifting you to help you pull it off. You let your arms drift above your head as he peeled the first layer off your body. It was only fair you would start unbuttoning his jersey and pulling at it, signaling him to take it off.

Before you could rip his undershirt off, he attached his lips to your neck, sucking hard to leave behind a noticeable deep purple love mark high enough it couldn’t be covered. You could feel his teeth graze your skin in a proud smile as your hot and heavy breaths turned to desperate, squirming moans. You gasped, gripping the fabric over his chest. He was glowing knowing only he could leave you in such a state.

Dragging a hot trail of saliva down your body, Pat stopped at your chest. He pulled away and stared down at your breasts with a shake of his head. “So fucking gorgeous,” he whispered. With one knee on either side of you, he sat up and pulled his red top off. Then he swept back down, suctioned back to your skin. He started behind your ear and peppered bites around your jaw, hands pulling your body to arch, allowing him the opportunity to remove your bra. You threw your head back and shimmied off the upper undergarment.

Your hands skimmed Pat’s bare chest, traveling upwards to his shoulders and past. Palms pressed against the sides of his face, you wiped your thumbs at the smeared eye black on his cheeks. His gaze was tied to your exposed chest and his breathing was heavy and hungry. Lips hanging parted, he slowly looked up at you through hooded lashes.

You smiled at the man hovering above you. Neither of you moved as you established eye contact while Jimi Hendrix played in the background. The van was hot between your bodies and the setting sun shining through the front window. Sweat beaded your forehead and your boyfriend went to push your hair back from your face, damp from the growing heat. “You’re-”

“You’re beautiful,” you finished. He laughed and it was like a Baroque painting before you. In a golden haze, his hair looked soft and he was glowing in muted tones. The tapestry pinned to the ceiling gave a dusty rose background to compliment the halo you saw around him. You pushed his hair back and pulled yourself up to kiss him. He took this chance to explore your body, mapping every inch of your warm, welcoming skin.

His fingertips were calloused and grey, dirt caked in the ridges of his prints, proof of the aftermath of the game. Rough pads walked down the center of your torso, stopping at your breasts. He took one mound in his hand, pinching your nipple between his thumb and his palm, rolling it slowly. You bit your lip and tucked your fingers under the waistband of his baseball pants and briefs, pulling them back and snapping them against his hips. Your eyes hung on the happy trail leading up his stomach. You traced it with the tip of your nail and his dark gaze settled on your face.

From his perspective, you were hidden in the shadows below him, hot and vulnerable. Buds of your breasts perky and hard, the dips of your stomach like a flowing river to your hips where your shorts sat a little too low, you were buried under filters of lust. The retiring sunlight hit the dust particles between you, floating through the air in slow motion like a love scene in an early 2000s, warm-toned, rom-com, the kind you spent Friday nights watching under three different blankets on the couch. You were dreamy, always, but especially now, a hazy, golden goddess.

“I want you, Pat,” you interrupted his daze, stroking his face and pushing his loose hair behind his ear. “Now.”

He blinked at you and grinned. “Oh, let’s go.” You smiled wickedly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around his back and slipped your hands on his ass. He engulfed you then gripped your shorts and panties, ripping them down all at once. A guttural groan left your throat and you wiggled out of your clothes. Pat had moved to one side of you, maintaining skin on skin contact whenever he could, and kicking off his shoes. Your body arched towards him as he retracted his touch. You shook your pants off your leg and laid baring it all for your lover in the cramped space of the vintage vehicle.

Pat was awestruck as you sat up, spread out for him, back to the driver’s seat. He paused with his pants stopped just high enough not to be truly explicit. You looked on with anticipation, one finger slinking its way between your legs. “Keep going,” you nodded at him. He complied with a lopsided grin and hot, hooded eyes. You rubbed two fingers against your clit and bit your bottom lip as he yanked his pants down, cup painfully sliding over his hard erection. He sat back and pulled off his bottoms, socks included, cock slapping against his stomach as he did so.

You snorted at him, unceremoniously slouched in the back of your small van. The sight was both pleasing and amusing, and far from being unfamiliar. Every time you’ve watched him undress in these four fabric covered walls, it felt the same. It had become something of a post-game ritual, defiling the backspace of your car while the oldies stationed tuned out the lewd sounds you made together.

‘She said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side’, your lover crawled towards you as you spread your lower lips to welcome him, ‘I said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side.’ Patrick took in the sight of your glistening sex and licked his lips. He sat back on a plush green throw blanket and pulled you onto his lap with a soft chuckle. He hummed contently at your lips against his ear, tightening his arms around your damp skin. You were straddling him, one arm slung over his shoulder and the other reaching for his member. The pre-cum leaking from his tip spread against your stomach as you pressed onto him, limber fingers wrapped precariously around his length. You pumped him slowly, hanging off his lobe by your teeth. This pulled a whimper from deep inside him, nuzzling against you. Thumb sliding over his head, you dragged the slickness down his shaft and sucked on his neck as he had yours. You were dripping for him and he could feel it. His knuckles went white, gripping your thighs with bruising strength. He nipped at your shoulder, leaving behind wet, fading love bites.

You were jostled as your boyfriend lifted you by your waist so he could easily access your tits, supporting you against the back of the driver’s seat. Pace quickening as your hand slid up and down his cock, his mouth latched onto your nipple, teeth brushing against it as he sucked hard. His thick fingers inside you scissored with fervor and you could feel every bend of his knuckles between your walls. Your free hand held his face against your chest and you moaned. Slowly, the cabin filled with the sweet scents of both yours and his arousal and sweat. You pulled yourself towards him and pulled gently on his hair as he replaced his lips with rolling fingers and paid his attention to your other bud.

“Fuck, Pat,” your breath hitched and you could feel him smile against your breast, “Pat, I want you-”

“I fucking need you, [Y/N],” his breathing was heavy as he detached from your chest, moving to look you in the eyes, “Soon.” It was a pleading look he gave you, far different from his on-field persona. With one last soft squeeze of his erection, you let go. He moaned at the release and you were up on your knees. He looked up at you from between your breasts as you flattened against him.

One of his hands slid between your thighs and your composure faltered, his cold fingers pressing past your nerve center and straight to your hole. He watched your face carefully, one hand on the small of your back, the other letting digit after digit push into your sex easily, slick secretion assisting in his effort to stretch you before his anticipated penetration. Blinking quickly, you twitch your hips at the knuckles deep in your pussy. Patrick grabbed your ass and began going in and out and in and out of your entrance with a quiet slap. To the rhythm of the Bowie song blowing out your damaged speakers, you hump his fingers and ride your rising pleasure ut before you can peak, you’re filled with emptiness.

“You fucking ready for me, babe?” Want was dripping from every syllable of his words as you looked down just in time to see him pull his slick fingers from his mouth, appreciating your taste every chance he could.

“Let’s drag this out, baby, today we got something to celebrate.” You caressed the side of his face and smiled softly. He couldn’t resist your whims and he knew exactly how to make this special.

He laid on his back and pulled you up by your ass, sliding your wetness along his torso. He lifted your waist and you compliantly moved your knees to either side of his head. “Then let me finish you off before we start on the good stuff, hm?” His smile was sexy as he adored you from between your legs, willing to put your sexuality before his need. His arms wrapped around your pillowy thighs, on hand holding your slit open and the other stroking your clit. A shiver ran through you as he lifted his head to break your first contact.

This was his chosen place of worship, kissing your core surrounded by the satin skin of your voluptuous legs. His religion was you on your knees and him on his back, the ecstatic expression you wore his deity. The fluid stained woven rugs and fur throws that shaped the interior of your chosen mode of transportation was the altar he so admired in the temple of you. Your skin was scripture and your acts together sacred, the hard rock you left on the hymns of your love. His metaphor was worn but as the last of the daylight threaded through the fallen waves of your hair, he couldn’t think of any words more true to describe this image of you.

He dove into you, starved of your taste. You were pulled down to his face, feeling his tongue probe the space between your lower lips, sucking at the labia and fully drinking up your nectar. You ground against his tongue, utilizing what he could to maximize your pleasure, the texture of his muscle overwhelming your senses. His nose pressed against your clit as his hands moved to go from grabbing your ass, supporting your waist, then giving his hands’ attention to your breasts. Your nipples were well loved as your pussy continued to be stimulated to the point of pushing you over.

Your whole body curved forwards, gripping his hair and supporting yourself with a fistful of the blanket. Uneven breaths drifted from your open mouth, heaving chest painted with small drops of sweat. Pat’s palm was flat against your back. Your hair flipped out of your line of sight as you threw your head back, lips forming a solid ‘o’. A wave of ecstasy rushed over you in your first orgasm of the evening, a musical moan, broken by sharp breaths. The lover beneath you lapped up every release of your spasming pussy until your curses died down to soft shudders. To avoid overstimulating you, Pat moved from your sensitive mound to drop hot kisses on your inner thighs.

The pulsing of your core subdued as you spent the next minute catching your breath. The van was filled with salty, hot air and Patrick held your midsection tightly as he sucked dark hickies on every inch of your shy skin he could reach. His face was coated in your juices, which was smeared across your legs, both sets of hands, and down your boyfriend’s chest. Letting his tongue glide over a fresh bruise just left in the crux of your crotch, his melted autumn eyes stared up at you with intense lust. He threw his head back when he was satisfied with his work and snorted, “You taste like a Goddamn fucking angel.”

His smile was goofy and gross, the juvenile delinquency of your act written all over his face. It made you feel like a teenager again, sneaking around with the angry boy your parents didn’t like. God, you loved him. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the situation. There you were, sitting on your boyfriend's face in the back of your musty van by the neighborhood baseball field and you weren’t even done yet.

You grinned down at him, “Shut up and fuck me, Murray.” The man smiled and sat up, catching you as you fell off him. You grabbed his face and pressed his lips to yours for a moment, tasting your own sticky, semi-sweet love on his lips before he pulled away to reach around you. Popping open the center console compartment with a click, he grabbed a condom and ripped it open with his teeth. “Care to-”

You took the contraceptive from him without letting him finish. He could understand the eagerness in your eyes and moved back expectantly. Holding up the plastic package, you frowned. “I thought we were celebrating?” You tilted your head innocently. Recognition flashed across his face and he raised his eyebrows. For the first time, the mood was broken, a Honda commercial really solidifying it for you.

“Are you- Are you serious? Are you sure?” The sweaty athlete’s eyes were wide at your implication.

You smiled slyly and nodded at him. “I’m on birth control and,” you shrugged, “I trust you not to have any weird, contagious rashes.” He laughed at you, happily, and you joined him.

“I can promise you I have no transmittable diseases, inspect me if you want.” His arms moved out to present himself to you.

You dragged a nail across the length of one of his arms and he cocked a half smile in your direction as he eyes your movements. “I’ve seen plenty.” You grinned and put your hands back on his cheeks, pushing against him in a kiss. Pat was quick to move, but you stopped him, hand flat against his chest. “You need a little prep, first, don’t you?” Slowly, he figured it out and sat back to give you more space to do your deed. Folding over yourself, thighs spread and arousal tickled by the thick woven rug beneath you, your face reached the waiting cock.

All the man could focus on was your long, batting lashes and your ass sticking out behind you. His tip was cold and wet from being untouched, but your spit dripped down it as you kissed the slit briefly. Patrick’s breath was shaky as you licked from the base up to the tip, making eye contact as you did so. His body weight was put on his locked arms behind him, leaning away from you, but he feared one more sex filled look from you would break him and he would collapse.

He nearly did when you first took him into your hot mouth. A groan vibrated through him and you felt it in your connection. Slowly at first, sparingly, you bobbed up and down on his length, soft lips sliding over every ridge and every vein. “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck-” You picked up speed with his encouraging curses. Head thrown back, your lover focused on not cumming right then and there, doing his best to save himself for what came next, but Goddamn it, [Y/N], he thought. He’d let you know him far too well if you could break him into so many pieces so quickly. Tongue scraping at the side of the sensitive skin, balls being treated with care in your hands, and the pace leaving him a sputtering mess- You name filled the compartment like a rolling sea fog, all your senses overcome with his apparent need for you. His scent, his sounds, his taste- hot and salty. Seeing his chest rising with labored breaths, you decided he was getting too close and hilted him in your throat as best you could for a moment, teeth grazing his base and your nose buried in his happy trail, before pulling off at a painstaking pace, detaching from him with a ‘pop’, a string of saliva falling from between you.

It took a quiet moment for him to get his bearings at the disappointing cutoff. The drops of sweat sliding down the sides of his face were tinted with red from the adobe colored dirt he’d spent so much time on. Sitting back up and leaning towards him, you went to wipe the moisture away and he held your hand to his face, kissing your palm with closed eyes. He saved his high and gave you a quick, and ironically chaste, kiss before pushing aside discarded clothing articles and repositioning the two of you so he was above you once again. He took you by your middle and moved you to the side, growing increasingly impatient, seemingly recovered from his edge. Holding firmly to your ribs as he laid you down before him, he then pulled away to admire you again.

Under a young night sky, you were the only star he saw. Glowing in a post-orgasmic haze against the shadows cast by street lamps, you were a constellation of an impossible creature. Contrasting the true space you both existed in, his view of you was divine. Every beautiful thing in the heavens and the earth, he saw in you.

“Pat?” You furrowed your eyes in concern at his momentary stillness.

He blinked the clouds from his eyes. “God, sorry, fuck-” Shaking his head, he smiled slightly, “I got so fucking lucky. I may not be able to get a hit but, uh-” He chuckled before completing his favorite line, “You sure are a catch.” He winked and you gently kicked him in the shoulder. Catching your ankle, he held your leg up and held it over his shoulder as he moved to position himself at your open hips. “C’mon, it’s my best line.”

You impatiently rolled your eyes. “Are you gonna fuck me or not?” You motioned to your waiting sex, ready and slick for him. “I’m waiting-”

“-And I’m ready!” Patrick held up his free hand defensively before grabbing your hip with bruising strength. His dripping, neglected tip sat waiting at your entrance. His tone turned serious, “Are you?”

His genuine asking was comforting and you nodded quickly. His position over you turned you on even more, if possible, loving that he could see you melt in his hand and drip between his fingers. With one hand holding your leg up and the other stroking his excited cock, preparing to enter you. The sparkling space between your welcoming thighs glistened in the little bit of moonlight making its way into the vehicle. He slid his thumb through the wetness and you groaned in need. He chuckled at your response and you squirmed against the soft fabrics you’d been set on.

It was the moment of final satisfaction that you’d been building to all afternoon in the back of your sex-soaked bus. Your eyes were trained on his focused downward gaze and you could feel him press into you. It was a pleasant stretch you looked forward to but it was different this time, void of the protection you’d so cautiously used. You felt unequivocally full, natural, and satisfying like you were made to fit together like this. Scary, but exciting, this new sensation left you unable to control your breathing. Sharp inhalations were a sign to him he was doing something good. Pushing into you was easy with how much arousal dripped your sex, all the fluids of the night mixing together for a pleasurable experience. In and out, he took his time deepening the contact, holding tight to your hips, a nice pain shooting through you when he squeezed the old yellowed bruises he’d left behind from past rendezvous. Your eyes focused on him when they were closed in ecstasy, hands swiping furiously at your clit or alternating between your breast. Pat was in awe at the bolts of hot pleasure that traveled up his body at the raw feeling of you around him, tight, wet, and warm. He thought sex couldn’t get any better, especially not with you, but he was wrong. He felt every dip and fold of your tunnels against the ridges of his own skin.

You were sleeved around him as he picked up speed. Grunts fell from his pouting lips every time his hips slapped against yours. The sound could be heard over the still playing radio in the front seat. It seemed the amount of teasing the two of you subjected each other to left little resilience to the sudden relief of penetration as your boyfriend’s rate jumped from calculated, appreciative thrusts to messy, needy, heavy ones in a matter of minutes. “You feel-” He groaned as he hilted in you again, balls deep to the pleasure of both of you, “So fucking amazing-” The words barely came out. You tried to formulate a response but the heat filling your abdomen stopped you. What came out instead was a gurgled moan of agreement. Smiling at the sights and the sounds you produced, Pat was absolutely enamored by you in this new sensation. Tits bouncing as you shook with his slamming thrusts, your eyes rolling back with guttural groans from deep inside you.

Drawing from that pit of white-hot pleasure, you neared your peak and a higher pitched plead cam as a warning to your partner, “Can’t- Fuck, Pat- Almost there-” He got the message and the two of you shook together, his whispers of ‘me too, me too’ barely heard through the whimpers. No longer could sounds be differentiated from one source or the other as your bodies melted together in a moment of bliss. For the first time, the vehicle noticeably shook in your passionate lovemaking. His hands slipped down your legs, attention drifted from your clit to your navel to your hair as he doubled over to float parallel above you. Sweat from his tiring body rained on you and you pulled him closer. His face was buried between your ear and shoulder, biting away curses as he humped through his high.

“Fuck, that’s it-” The sliding stopped as his back arched first, pressing so hard into your crux, you were sure your entire lower half would be purple by the next morning. His member pulsed inside you and you could feel it swell with anticipation before your own pussy milked him for all he was worth. Streams and streams of hot, white pleasure flowed into you and you swallowed a scream. The sound that managed to escape was otherworldly and Pat loved it. You’d never felt this before, his love directly inside you, hot sloshing, liquid driving you past your point of return. You thought maybe it hadn’t been the physical sensation but the idea of how intimate the action was that had really given you your final orgasm. Either way, you had simultaneously arched against him and he held you up by your back as you squeezed with every muscle. Nails dragging down his spine, no doubt leaving red territorial marks down his sides as you rode out the ocean of intensity that washed over you. It made you curl your toes and tense your appendages around your lover like a boa constrictor and their prey.

Love came gushing from your connection and pooled beneath the small of your back, sinking into the layers of covers that cushioned the two of you from the hard vehicle floor. You didn’t think about the mess you’d made or the unfortunate task of cleaning it up and instead focused on the weight on top of you. Still, inside you, Patrick’s cock twitched as he’d nearly collapsed over you. The rhythm of your breathing synced with his and your pussy pulsed sorely, your entire body sensitive and raw. A shiver ran through your bones as you felt the hot mouth of the body blanketing your’s suction onto your neck one last time, licking over its handy work with a weak laugh. Your fingers laced through his damp hair and you turned your cheek to kiss his.

Your eyes were watering, maybe from the tense situation or the exhaustion that suddenly overwhelmed you now that the wire strings of arousal no longer hold you up. Pat felt the same way as he slowly pulled out of you and you winced. On his side next to you, you felt him pull you closer, nestling into your equally wet and disgusting hair. The entire car smelled awful and hot, the windows were grey and fogged up, blankets beneath you covered in God knows what. Closing your legs and turning towards the warmth beside you, you nestled into him, the feeling of your post-coital calmness was immortalized in the music you’d left on. ‘Goodbye stranger, it’s been nice. Hope you find your paradise.’

Maybe the lyrics weren’t a perfect fit, but somehow the melody found it’s way beneath your hot skin and soothed you. You remained this way for, you weren’t sure how long. Time seemed lost to the two of you then. Engulfed in his arms, you felt safe. The scene was grimy and explicit, your nakedness blending together, the leftover ejaculate dripping from your slit without care, the stained and discarded undergarments left unnoticed and hanging off the steering wheel. It wasn’t clean or safe, but for the two of you, it was nice. What that said about your situation, you didn’t care. This was your heaven.

“Good morning, Orange County! And what a lovely morning it is! We’d like to start the day with a little Springsteen, huh?” A hard drum intro led into a twangy guitar and the sonorous voice of Bruce Springsteen, ‘In the day we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream. At night we ride through the mansions of glory in suicide machines.’

“Is it weird,” you’d said, “knowing all the boys are well aware of what we do? Including your dad?” You laughed a bit, leaning against him, still bare, under a furry quilt. The carriage of the vehicle creaked at your movements, audible now that it wasn’t masked by the heavy breathing of your fucking. The bohemian tapestry behind you shrouded the rising sun from your sensitive eyes, half open in a dream-like state.

Patrick planted a quick kiss in your hair, “I like they know you’re mine.” He took a deep breath, “And my dad can fuck off.”

After a pause, you looked at him and erupted in laughter. “He’s pretty cool, you know, for having to deal with a kid like you.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

‘Wendy let me in I wanna be your friend, I want to guard your dreams and visions. Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims and strap your hands 'cross my engines.’

Brian glanced at the phone as he prepared his breakfast. He was sure his son was fine, he’d gone nights without calling before, but by morning he usually had a message waiting for him. He tried not to think about what may have distracted him in order to keep down his first meal of the day. The radio played in the background.

‘Girls comb their hair in rearview mirrors and the boys try to look so hard. The amusement park rises bold and stark, kids are huddled on the beach in a mist. I wanna die with you Wendy on the street tonight in an everlasting kiss.’

The groundskeeper stared on worriedly at the shaking VW bus that had been parked behind the trees since before he’d gotten there in the small hours of the morning. “Fucking teenagers, disgusting,” he shook his head and turned away, earphones back in as he started up the lawnmower.

‘Oh honey, tramps like us, baby, we were born to run.’

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