#eat me out like the Fourth of July | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckets-and-trees · 3 months

Text

When He First Got Me

Title: When He First Got Me Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 2200 Summary: Prequel in the Exiled Nomad Series. July 3, 2017. Steve sees you at a city festival for the Fourth of July, but he's not content with only seeing...

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, rough sex, emotional unavailability, a broken Nomad who thinks he's fine but definitely is not

Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone prequel. A little something for Steve's birthday weekend... This will be a bit of a darker indulgence for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar challenge: mint chocolate chip (involving a loner), sprinkles (birthday and 4th of July), cherries (meet-cute), and we'll even say some caramel (because Steve is not quite in a great headspace if we're being honest). AND I'm entering this for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer writing challenge: carnival/fair, slight stalker (but not fully), and I bolded the dialogue prompt that I used.

Steve didn’t feel like he could breathe easily, but he did feel like he could breathe here. Nothing like New York or DC. A place small enough not to be noticed but big enough to blend in without drawing attention as a stranger.

Being invisible somewhere had been easier than carving out the opportunity to do so solo over the 4th of July – less because it was America’s Birthday and more because it was his. Steve had suggested Wanda finally reconnect with Vision (they’d been on the run long enough, it should be safe for her to reach out and discreetly stay off the grid). The case he made to Sam was that he’d been on the run for over a year, and the 4th was less expected for a sentimental return to stop in on family but would still afford a holiday’s community celebrations and to give him reasonable cover to slip in and out. Nat hadn’t needed convincing. She saw, asked if he was sure, but understood without him needing to explain, and said she had things of her own that she’d take care of.

He just didn’t want any of the fuss of them trying to make him feel better on his birthday.

Steve was sitting on a shaded grassy knoll in the city park, hundreds of people around him, all weaving in and out of booths with games, vendors, and food, a vibrant temporary set up for a few days around the 4th, and on the far side of the park the sounds of carnival rides underscored it all.

He hadn’t come to this place to find someone.

But the moment he first noticed you, the plans started forming in his head before he could stop them.

And why should he stop them?

As he alternated between sketching in his notebook and people-watching, people watching turned into watching only you – you wandering this place clearly alone. Must be on your own in this city.

It would be so easy to harmlessly bump into you.

So he did.

When you recognized him, he could easily use the moment to draw you into keeping his presence in such a public place secret, getting you to trust him by him “trusting you” with his secret.

And he did.

He could easily ask if there were any good places to eat in town, then ask if you would join him.

He did, and you did.

After walking you home, it would be so easy to get you to invite him in, an afternoon and evening of conversation, compounding moments, and more and more casual touches on your arm, your shoulder, the small of your back, the back of your hand, having your body attune to him.

And it worked.

You hesitated, but invite him in you did.

And he tried for a moment to convince himself that being invited in had been all he wanted – to be someplace that wasn’t a stolen moment or a hotel room or a safe house that itself wasn’t very safe, just to be someplace private, someplace normal, someplace that felt like home.

But that was not the only thing he wanted.

And why shouldn’t he take the rest of what he wanted? After everything, didn’t he deserve it?

You didn’t notice that he locked the door behind him. You’d been apologizing for the state of your place, though after a quick glance around, he assured you it only looked lived in, not a mess.

Not like the mess he was so eager to make you into beneath him.

After insisting you didn’t need to get anything for him, he sat on your couch. He told you how nice it was just to sit there, nowhere to be, no reason to hide, how tired he was of running. You listened; you soothed him. He leaned in and kissed you.

You kissed him back.

All he did was kiss you until you leaned back on the couch and urged him along with you.

He let his chest press into your deliciously soft body. He groaned into the kiss, and you opened your mouth to his. This kisss grew in fervor, tongues exploring and tangling with each other. His hand ran up and down your thigh, slowly coaxing you to hitch it up around his waist. You moaned when he ground gently against your core – gentle only to test the waters. His need was mounting exponentially, and he knew the damn would break soon. He intended to let it.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your shoulder, kissing there before teasing his lips and teeth and tongue along your collar bone to the sensitive point of your neck. You sighed in bliss, and he moved his hand back up your thigh, over your hip, across your stomach, undid the top button he found there, and started to reach into your jeans.

Your breath hitched, and your hands flew to his.

“Steve, wait,” you said.

But you didn’t say stop.

He waited.

He could hear the wild racing of your heart beneath him.

The pressure of your hands on his body didn’t change, no part of you shifted to move away. Your eyes closed, the only sign of your reticence were your teeth worrying your bottom lip.

Steve slid his hand down to cup your pussy and his fingers found the wetness growing there that he expected. You let out a shuddering breath as his fingers worked your labia, but he didn’t linger there. He pulled his fingers out and then pushed them into your mouth.

“Neither of us wants to wait,” he snarled as you licked your slick from the pads of his fingers. “And it’s summer, we’re supposed to be having fun.”

Super soldier serum running through his veins, Steve picked you up with ease, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist, while he held one of your thighs and pressed his other hand at the base of your spine, pinning you securely to him while he captured your lips to kiss you again.

He easily found your bedroom, and he lowered you to the bed in a kneeling position. He didn’t relent in his kissing, devouring you, demanding your supplication. He only broke off the kiss once you were breathless, moaning, and pulling at his clothes. Then he stepped back and told you to undress. Steve quicky removed all his own clothing while keeping his eyes on you. You only removed your shirt and jeans, leaving you in your underwear, but he could work with that for now. He’d have you willing to shed the rest soon enough.

Steve got up on the bed with you, pleased that he could see your eyes darkening with the lust and the want. He recognized exactly the kind of want he was dealing with – it was how he imagined he would have behaved before living the harsh life of denial he’d lived while exiled and on the run for the past year. The old him would have wanted but been hesitant, gone slow, paid attention to more of the dance before even getting into bed.

He didn’t have the luxury of time or the patience for that.

He only had an insatiable need that he’d pushed down and ignored – ignored for years even before becoming Nomad. He’d denied himself so many things, sacrificed for others, for missions, too many legitimate and imagined reasons holding him back.

He wouldn’t hold back now.

But he would coax you into needing him as much as he needed you.

You only glanced at his naked groin with a moment of hesitance as he pulled you into his lap, but you still let him. He resumed your kissing, and you were quick to continue making out with him. He allowed you take the reins to steer the kissing, letting you lap up at the pace you wanted. He let his hands roam over your back as he eased you along, seemingly unhurried. But his hands soon made their way to your hips, and he secured his grip there and began grinding you down against his hard cock. He moaned unabashedly into your mouth as he adjusted the angle of your hips and continued rocking your core against him.

He was insistent on torturing you where your most intimate parts met until, clinging to his shoulders, you threw your head back, gasped for air.

“Steve,” you keened his name, clearly in the early stages of sweet ruin that he wanted.

He smirked against your neck and laid you down on your back with deceptive sweetness. He kissed slowly down your chest, between your breasts, down over your belly button. His fingers hooked into the top of your panties just as his lips arrived at the top of that fabric, and he peeled them down and fully off your legs. Your fingers worked anxiously over the sheets beneath you as he made you wait for him to touch you more.

His hands opened your legs back up, pushing at your knees to splay you open like a butterfly beneath his attention.

He worked both of his thumbs up and down over your labia, smearing your cunt with your juices, studying what he was about to claim and ruin. Then he looked up at your face and said, “This is mine now, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” your voice was soft, nervous, but also eager.

It hadn’t actually been a question, but he wanted you to say it out loud.

The only question was how he wanted to take you first.

Since he planned on taking you in every way, he went with the most convenient first, easing his cock into you slowly, but with no apologies for how thick he was, pressing into you despite the resistance – not that of a virgin, but of a cunt that had never taken a cock so big before. You cried out – but he knew the tone of it was pain drenched with bliss, he could hear it. What’s more, when he was fully sheathed inside you, he waited, unmoving. He watched your chest rise and fall with a few breaths. When you finally shifted your hips against his, he knew he had won. You wanted more. The beast inside of him surged in satisfaction, and then he began to aggressively thrust in and out of your tight channel.

He leaned forward, and your knees hitched up around his waist to urge him on. You clawed at his back, and when he reached between your bodies and found your swollen clit, he rubbed furious circles over it until he was rewarded with the clenching of your cunt around him, the seizing up of every muscle in your body, as he delivered your first orgasm of the night.

He continued pumping in and out of your spasming cunt until he was right at the edge, then pulled out and fisted his cock with only two more strokes before releasing hot ribbons of cum over your stomach.

Your fingers inched hesitantly toward the mess, and he put his hand over yours and pushed your fingers and his through the mess, pressing it into your skin. Then he moved your hands away and lowered his body down onto yours, the sticky spend between your skin and his there.

“I…” you started, but then paused.

He slipped his other hand beneath your head, cradling it in his palm. “Mmm?” he hummed against the spot behind your ear.

“I’m clean and have an IUD.”

He groaned and nipped at your neck. “You want me to continue to fuck you more. You want me to cum inside you.”

“Yes, Steve,” you simpered.

“Mmm, such a good girl,” he pressed a hot kiss against your neck, then rolled off being on top of you, and to his side next to you. “Best give you what we both want, then,” he said as he turned you onto your side, back pressed to his chest, and felt below to press his dick into your hole again.

Hours later when its far past midnight, you’ve passed out from exhaustion.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

But when he slipped back onto your bed after taking a piss, you scooted your body in next to him, put your hand on his chest, and muttered the sleepiest, “Happy birthday,” to him he’d ever heard. He almost wondered how you knew switching from the third to the fourth meant it was his day, but then he remembered the time when seemingly everyone knew it was Cap’s birthday.

While he wasn’t Cap anymore, it still struck something in him and made his chest warm.

But he didn’t feel like you would make a big deal out of it or make him feel bad and that maybe it would be nice to be with someone on his birthday, so he decided to stay. He told himself it was to be distracted chasing more bliss with your body. He ignored the other thoughts working through his mind. He only wanted – only needed – the distraction. Nothing else.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

NEXT: July 4, 2017. read more Exiled Nomad Series

I'M GLAD Steve's POV won in the poll I ran earlier this week... clearly since I made the poll my muse was leaning heavy towards it anyway, but this was certainly illuminating to see more of where Steve's head is at in this ... situationship.

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #nomad steve x reader #slashersummerwc #sundae bar #female reader #aspen wrote something #exiled nomad series

873 notes · View notes

loveshotzz · 10 months

Text

We’re supposed to be eating breakfast

older!steve x fem!reader an AIRWIY oneshot

summary: You wake up after your first sleep over at Steve’s house feeling bold.

wc: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ older!steve, smut, p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, mentions of past drinking, reader is wearing Steve’s baseball jersey but it’s not really described how it fits on readers body, no real descriptions of readers body.

authors note: this took me over a month to write with everything going on in my personal life, so I’m excited to finally give it to you. thank you all for your patience and encouragement to keep coming back on here every day despite me not writing as much as I used to and to keep me opening my word docs. this one was spurred my @palmtreesx3 brilliant mind and an idea that’s haunted me day and night. This takes place in the All I Really Want Is You universe, but can be read as a stand alone. Just know you’re wearing Steve’s personalized cubs jersey. :)

The harsh sounds of the coffee grinder is what wakes you up, but the golden rays of morning sunshine that leaks through the cracks in the blinds is what gets your eyes to open. Slow soft blinks, with fluttering lashes and brain still fuzzy from the kind of sleep that makes you temporarily forget what year it is, you need a moment to recognize the unfamiliar, much nicer surroundings.

You were in Steve’s room.

A smile you can’t contain spreads wide across your face, butterfly wings tickling at your rib cage. Stretching your still sleeping limbs, your body melts into the soft cushions of his mattress. The feathers that fill his pillows contour to your head perfectly, and the memories of the ways he had you pressed into it resurface, skin igniting with the ghost of his hands on your curves. Biting your bottom lip, the kind of nerves that you haven’t had since the Fourth of July make themselves known again, having never spent a morning with him at his home.

Rolling over, your face hits the cotton of his pillowcase that you’re not surprised is cold. Shamelessly you inhale the cedar and spice that still lingers on it, and the faint ache between your thighs, along with the clinks of glass you hear from his sink, reminds you that he’s just down stairs. It takes a little bit of willpower to leave the cozy cocoon you’ve found yourself in but the need to see him over powers the comfort of his duvet that feels like just the right amount of weight against your body.

Shuffling out of the covers, your bare feet hit the cold hard wood of his floors, a shiver crawling up your spine that you tell yourself is from the chill of the winter air that seeps through his unsealed windows, definitely not your nerves catching a glimpse of your naked body in his dresser mirror. The same mirror you’d seen him in almost five months ago.

Padding across his bedroom you wonder if he can hear your steps as you search for any sign of your clothes that had been haphazardly thrown around after an old bottle of red wine. The clean white color of his jersey catches in your gaze, the blue bold lettering that spells out his last name has your thighs pressing at the memory of your second date as it sits folded on top of his dresser.

The thought of how good he looked with it stretched across his broad shoulders, and the top two buttons undone, teasing the chest hair that your nails dragged through last night makes your skin warm. The praises he whispered in hot merlot against your lips, your neck, and between your legs is what gives you the confidence you need to slip it on instead.

The stairs creak under each step, but the popping grease of the bacon that fills his house with the smell of maple lets you go undetected. Familiar voices of who you’re learning are sportscasters, spill out from the small speaker on his phone that you know is propped up on the little plastic holder he always sets it on when he charges it. He mumbles something in response to the commentary under his breath, and you hear the beeping of the oven telling him it’s finished preheating.

Your cheeks hurt from how high they push up when you realize Steve’s making you breakfast.

A little shy from his affections already, your fingers wrap around the wood frame of the entryway with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. With his back to you, it gives you a perfect view of the way his white cotton undershirt stretches tight over his shoulder blades that move with every flick of his wrist, forearms flexing as he whisks whatever is in the bowl in front of him. Black sweats sit low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of his boxer briefs underneath, the font across the top of his waist band says Burberry, making your palms sweat. A personal favorite pair.

He turns his head to look at a replay of a game he missed in favor of spending time with you on his phone screen, still completely unaware of your presence. The new angle reveals the silver glasses he wore a few weeks ago in his office, dark chestnut and peppered hair sticking out wild at the ends, a mess you know was made by your hands.

“Seriously? Keep him on the bench.” He grumbles, shaking his head before bringing his attention back to the bowl.

You watch him for a few seconds longer, but his butt jiggling with the force of his whisking makes a giggle slip past your lips blowing your cover. He jumps at the noise no matter how sweet it is, meeting your eyes from over his shoulder. Steve gives you a smile that you’re learning is only reserved for you and sometimes Eddie, punching the air out of your lungs. Watching the way it only continues to grow across his stubble covered face makes your heart swell even more.

It’s only when his gaze finally lands on the only thing you’re wearing that the gold shimmering inside his eyes darken, a starless night lingering where the bottom hem of his jersey sits at the very tops of your thighs.

“Jesus honey, look at you.” The metal whisk hits the glass of the bowl with a loud clink as he turns around to really drink you in, “good morning to me.”

“I hope this is okay,” your voice comes out smaller than intended, suddenly self conscious you might have overstepped despite the way he watches you take your first steps into the kitchen like he wants to eat you alive.

“Okay?” His huffs out a breath like he’s wrecked, long fingers coming up to scratch at his jaw, “I’m afraid you’re not allowed to wear anything else in my house ever again.”

You giggle again, and you swear you hear him groan because of it.

“I think we might be able to arrange something, a deal, an agreement of some sort.” you smirk, tapping your nails along the smooth black marble of his kitchen island, giving your hips a little extra sway with your slow steps.

Both his palms curve around the counter behind him as he leans back, chest puffing while he licks his full pink lips. They pull up into a lopsided grin, a hungry gaze roaming freely as you come to a stop right in front of him. His confidence only falters a little when he has to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, but the gesture only makes your heart swell especially when the tops of his ears redden.

You lean against the island with a smile that tells him you’re up to no good. Heat from the oven and the man across from you warms your legs against the chill that bounces off all the glass and stone in his kitchen. Electricity sparks in the space between your bodies making the tips of your fingers and toes buzz, your pulse jumping when he reaches a big hand out for you.

“Just a little bit too far for me still baby,” He wiggles his fingers at you making you smile shyly before you slip your hand into his palm, your eyes glaze over watching it disappear in his grasp.

His gentle tug makes you squeal, hitting his chest with a soft thump, he grins down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Wrapping an arm around you to keep you from leaving, he lets go of your hand to cup the side of your face. The pad of his thumb traces the length of your cheek bone, and he smells just his pillow. Your hands find themselves tangled into the cotton of his shirt, leaning deeper into his touch. It makes the playfulness that dances in the chestnut of his eyes turn soft with something lovesick.

“Good morning handsome,” you say in a content sigh, and the hand that's spread across your back starts to work a path up your spine pulling the fabric of his jersey with it.

“I could really get used to this you know,” He hums, dipping his head down so the tip of his nose runs up the length of yours, mint and coffee on his breath “waking up to you.”

Your stomach flips at his words, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when you feel the cool breeze hit where your underwear should be.

“Oh yeah? What about Bandit?” You tease leaning closer, letting your top lip catch his bottom one.

Steve snorts a little, reminded of his dog who he knows is soaking up the sun outside, and the palm on your back squeezes you even closer.

“Are you kidding me? We’re obsessed with you over here honey.” The whites of his teeth show a little before they nip at your pout. He takes advantage of the gasp he earns, closing the gap completely in the kind of kiss that doesn’t give you any time to catch your breath before he’s licking at your bottom lip.

Your fingers untangle themselves from his shirt, and find a new home to get lost in the locks at the nap of his neck. Tongues meet in the middle with eager enthusiasm, and your front teeth hit as you push up on your tippy toes on the search for more. A deep groan vibrates from his chest, and his palm starts working its way down the dip of your back. When he’s met with the bare swell of your ass as he reaches the bottom hem of his jersey, you feel him kick up in his sweatpants.

“Tough girl.” He says your nickname like he's scolding you, leaving open mouthed kisses up your jaw, nipping at your earlobe before whispering with the kind of gravel in his voice that makes the inside of your thighs sticky. “We’re supposed to be eating breakfast.”

You hardly register him turning the oven off beside you.

“Who says -“ your sentence is cut off by a gasp when two thick fingers trace up your slick lips with ease, the pads of them pressing down on your bundle of nerves just long enough to make you whine with shaky knees.

“Who says what huh?” He whispers against the sensitive spot behind your ear, rubbing small circles on your clit with pointed pressure, obsessed with the way your jaw goes slack, and your eyebrows pinch together because of it.

“Who says we can’t do both?” You manage to get out with fluttering lashes, as he spreads you apart.

“You’re right, I don’t think breakfast is gonna be sweet enough for me.” He tuts, letting his middle finger push just a knuckle into your already greedy walls, and the soft moan that he gets from you has him leaking in his sweats. “You gonna help me with that, honey?”

Too lost in his teasing all you manage is a nod and a breathy ‘mmhmm’ looking up at him with big glassy eyes. He lets his lips ghost over yours, with a smirk tugging at the corners of them before spinning you around. Your palms land back on the cool marble of the kitchen island while both his hands wrap themselves firmly around the soft dough of your hips keeping his Jersey rucked up with them. He pulls your ass flush with his hips, letting you feel the hard length of him that begs to be released from the fleece confines of his pants against the ache in your core.

“This is what you wanted when you came down here lookin’ like this huh?” He asks with a low voice, hooking his thumbs under the bottom of his jersey. Lifting it higher up your back, he grinds against you while his eyes drink in all the soft dips of all your curves.

“Maybe,” you giggle a little breathy looking back over your shoulder at him with half lidded eyes.

His smile steals all the warm light from the room as he looks down at you with a cocked brow.

“I was trying to wait till after breakfast, which was hard waking up to you naked in my bed.” He can’t stop his heavy gaze from wandering to his last name covering the top of your back, unlocking something primal and possessive inside of him that he thought he’d lost forever. He wants you to leave it on, he’ll get it dry cleaned. “But honey, I can’t keep my hands off of you lookin’ like this.”

His palm feels heavy as it slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing at the fat with strong fingers spreading you apart a little before shoving his sweatpants half way down his hairy thighs. With hot cheeks, you flutter around nothing when the thickness of his cock springs free, standing at attention just for you. Somersaults in your stomach as you watch his tight grip pump himself a few times. Your hips wiggle in anticipation, whining when he teases more, gliding his tip through your slick, a small moan spilling from between your lips when he catches your clit.

“Always so needy for me,” he groans with a hint of disbelief, “fuck, what’d I do to deserve you?”

Steve doesn’t waste anymore time, slowly pushing in and the feeling of your walls wrapping around him while your body tries to accommodate the stretch has him chanting your name under his breath. Half way in, he regrips your hips a little rougher than before. His cock twitches watching your back bow, making his last name shine against the light while your nails scratch at the cool marble when he bottoms out.

Legs shaking, still sensitive from the night before, his hold on you tightens. You keen at the feeling of his thumbs rubbing small circles into your soft skin giving you time to adjust. It doesn’t take long for the initial sting subside, giving you the strength to rock your hips a little, a breathy sigh escaping you when it feels good.

“Yeah?” He hums, meeting your hips with his own hitting that spot that makes your toes curl.

“Uh huh” You manage to utter as he pulls almost all the way out, a moan of his name long and drawn out bounces off the walls when he pushes back in letting you feel every inch.

“That’s my girl,” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and it makes you want to turn around and see it.

Your eyes meet from over your shoulder again as he starts to roll his hips, finding the perfect pace. The sound of skin slapping fills the quiet space between moans every time your ass jiggles from the force of it. That strand falls messily over his forehead when he looks down at you, brows pinching together and jaw going slack like seeing your face only intensified everything he was feeling. He holds your stare, and the snap of his hips starts to get rougher. Burying himself deep focusing on that spot, the one he’s only ever been able to find.

“Oh, oh- Steve. Right there -shit - oh my god.” Your head falls between your shoulders, when he starts to barely pull out anymore. The tip of him making your eyelashes flutter as he reaches the spot that had you screaming his name last night, over and over again.

His eyes wander the expanse of your back, keeping his pace while his hands slowly start to slide up your sides, pushing his jersey with it. He wants to see more of you, but his hips stutter hearing the noises he’s getting out of you with his last name plastered across your hunched shoulders.

“You look so good - shiiit, like this baby. My name on your back, letting me bend you over in my kitchen while I cook you breakfast.” He babbles as your walls start to flutter, already dangerously close to falling over the ledge, your body threatening to take him with you. “Wanna do this all the time, please, let me do this all the time, honey.”

“Whatever, whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want, I’m - oh fuck, I’m yours.” Your words break off in a moan when he starts to circle his hips at the same time you push yours back and he holds you there, repeating the motion.

“Yeah? You’re mine?” Steve grunts, cock twitching at the thought of filling you up, and for the first time in over a decade he feels the need to mark what’s his in the most primal way he knows. The thought of you round with his kid brings a new kind of intensity to the way he starts to fuck you, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer. “Tell me again.”

“Mmmhmm, always yours.” You whine, feeling yourself reaching the edge. Steve leans forward, somehow going deeper. Long thick fingers find their way between your thighs, where the two of you connect and he starts rubbing messy circles on your clit, pushing you off the cliff.

You flutter and squeeze around him hard enough to almost push him out, but he continues rutting his hips fighting against it, white spots explode behind your lids, his name falling out of your mouth broken in a gasp and a shudder.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s it.” He groans, watching the way your forehead hits the cold marble with another tremor that makes his cock twitch. “Gonna cum baby, let me cum inside, need it, please.”

He can make out the nod of your head, and with the little strength you have left, you push yourself further back encouraging him more. He knows you're on the pill, he’s seen you take it, but right now in the heat of it all, a small part of him hopes you missed a day. He blames the blue letters on his Jersey staring him right in the face, or the way you coat his cock with the remains of what he did to you every time you suck him right back in.

He pushes himself deep enough to make you fall forward a little, a low groan rumbling deep from his chest as he spills hot inside of you the rock of his hips slowing down as he falls apart. His forehead hits your back, with one last lazy thrust, and you can feel the heat of his breath as he pants to catch his breath. You wish the fabric of his jersey wasn’t so thick when he plants a kiss between your shoulder blades, before slowly pulling himself back up.

“Yeah, it’s official. This is absolutely the only thing you’re allowed to wear here.”

#my writing #all i really want is you #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader smut

3K notes · View notes

puckinghischier · 3 months

Text

Choices

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack proves that he will always choose reader, no matter what anyone has to say

notes: so, the first part of this is literally my favorite thing i’ve ever written. the ending? meh. i don’t hate it, but i definitely think it could have been done better, i just struggle so hard with endings 😭. i also lowkey don’t like the title, but literally couldn’t think of a different one. anyways, i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

can be read as a part 2 to this fic, but can also be read by itself

request: Could you write something with Jack getting defensive/choosing her? Maybe he gets cornered by an ex flame or someone about what makes reader so special to get him to commit to a serious relationship when he didn't with her

[6.7k]

“Are you sure I don’t need to dress up tonight? I know you said they’re just some old family friends, but I want to make a good impression,” you question Jack, standing in front of the full-length mirror propped against the wall.

You’re wearing a pale, yellow sundress with daisies imprinted all across the fabric. Jack insisted the Lawsons were just old friends of the family, having owned the house down the street since he was just a kid.

Since meeting Jack’s family last year, you’ve been his plus one to every single trip he’s made home. At thanksgiving he brought you home for a quick, two day trip to meet his grandparents and a few pairs of aunts and uncles, before having to fly out again because of his game schedule. Around Christmas the two of you split your time, spending the actual holiday with your family, then flying to meet Jack’s family for New Year’s activities, where you met several cousins and old school friends of Jack’s.

This year, you’re celebrating the Fourth of July in Michigan, finally getting to experience the infamous Hughes lake house. Jack was able to convince you to spend an entire month here at the large house, telling you the trip was for the Fourth festivities, but suggesting you leave a few weeks beforehand, wanting you to get the full lake house experience.

You had spent your days switching between joining his family on the large pontoon boat sitting at the end of their dock and going out on adventures with Jack alone on the pair of Jet skis Quinn had bought after his first paycheck came in during his rookie year. A few nights a week, Jack would tell you to put on something nice, showing you around the small town a few miles away from the house, taking you to each of his favorite childhood spots for dinner.

One night he had told you to put on the nicest dress you brought, then proceeded to take you to an old, beach themed bar. He sat across from you at the high top table in a collared shirt and khakis, the rest of the patrons around you in their bathing suit cover ups or shorts and t-shirts.

You scolded him, telling him you two looked like fools in there, all dressed up to eat fried seafood. He laughed, telling you the only fool in the room was him, because he was “foolishly and wholly in love with you.” You rolled your eyes at his mushy-ness, a blush making its way to your cheeks at the same time.

That memory, however, is the reason you no longer trust Jack when he tells you to either dress up or dress down for dinners. Including tonight.

“I promise, you don’t have to dress up. You could wear your bathing suit for all I care,” he calls out from the bathroom where he’s ‘fixing’ his hair, which usually means brushing it and then ruffling it around with his hands. “I mean, mom might not be too happy if you’re sitting at the dinner table in just a bikini, but I’d sure enjoy the show.”

You scoff at his words, turning to go and stand in the doorway of the ensuite, crossing your arms.

“I’m being serious, J. I want to make a good impression on these people. They’re really good friends of your parents. Your mom was telling me how you all used to spend almost the entire summer together, constantly over at one another’s houses for dinner and fire talks,” you remember how excited Ellen was to be having her friends over for dinner tonight, claiming she hadn’t seen them in years because of how busy their lives had gotten.

Ellen also mentioned they had a daughter around your and Jack’s age who was in with her parents for the summer. Her name is Sarah and she’s a department director of some big advertisement company in New York. She stopped coming around as often around the same time Jack got drafted to the Devils, according to Ellen. Her job being too demanding for her to make the trip every summer.

You were excited to meet yet another person that knew Jack as a kid. You were hoping to rope a few stories out of her over the course of dinner, wanting to know as much as you can about Jack’s childhood from those around him. Sometimes you really hate the fact that you haven’t known Jack his whole life. You count yourself one of the luckiest people alive to be able to share his life with him now, but you’re always picturing him growing up, wanting to know every detail of what makes Jack, Jack.

Quinn and Luke are always eager to tell you anything you want to know about Jack, from the time he wanted to be “TP man” for Halloween and proceeded to wrap his entire body in toilet paper, wearing the empty rolls on his hands, to the time he wanted to ask his eighth-grade crush out on a date, but instead blurted out that he had to go home to massage their dad’s feet.

You always enjoyed hearing stories about him from people that weren’t his mischievous brothers, though. Like when his grandma told you about the time she got home to see that Jack had rearranged her kitchen cabinets, placing everything he saw her use on a regular basis closer to where she could reach it after watching her drop her favorite mug while trying to put it away on the second highest shelf that morning. Or when his best friend from high school told you about the time Jack gave him a ride home from practice, stopping in to say hello to his parents when Jack heard his little sister crying in her room because she couldn’t figure out her math homework. Jack stayed over for nearly two hours to help the little girl with her multiplication table and gave her words of encouragement the entire time.

You knew Jack was someone special, his calming energy easing your nerves from the first time you ever spoke to him. Hearing the stories that confirm he’s been this way his whole life, from the people that have known him far longer than you, though, makes you burst with so much love for the man you think your heart might actually explode one day.

“And I’m being serious, Sunshine, what you’re wearing is fine and won’t change the fact that they’re going to absolutely love you, just like everyone else does,” Jack walks over to stand in front of you.

You uncross your arms, letting them fall to your sides. Jack reaches down and takes each one of your hands into his, stepping forward slightly.

“I just…I care about how the people that know you view me. It’s important to me that the people important to you know that I love you, not that I’m just trying to ride on the back of some hot shot hockey player,” you whisper, referencing a blog post you were sent by one of your coworkers back in Jersey, asking if the girl in the picture was, in fact, you sitting on Jack’s lap in a crowded bar you went to for a post-game celebration.

The post talked about how you had been seen with Jack at a few games and were seen leaving several bars with him over the course of a few weeks early into your relationship. The blog site was a silly, hockey gossip blog, more concerned about who the players were sleeping with than any of the games themselves, but the accusation made your heart sink nonetheless. You knew you were with Jack for no reason other than you love him and he makes you feel safe, comfortable, and loved. Jack knows you’re not with him for his money, and anyone close to him knows you’re not with him for his money or fame.

He could quit hockey tomorrow and it wouldn’t change even an ounce of your feelings towards him. With or without hockey, he’s still your Jack. The Jack that makes you honey lavender tea every night because he knows it helps you sleep. The Jack that somehow manages to bring you flowers after every home game, no matter how late it is. The Jack that insisted you move in with him after your lease ended because his apartment is closer to your new job, but really because he was tired of not coming home to you every night. The Jack that showed up to your graduation this spring, bringing nearly his whole team and his family, the group cheering so loud when you walked across the stage everyone in attendance laughed, the person handing you your diploma commenting “sounds like you have a few fans out there.”

Even though you know that Jack knows, and his family knows, each time you meet someone new from his life, you feel the need to prove yourself. It’s part of the reason you were so anxious to meet his parents all those months ago. You worry that each person you meet has seen or read an article like the one you were sent. You worry they’ll think you’re not right for Jack, or that you’re only with him to get a taste of the popularity and lifestyle that comes along with his job. All you want is to show them how much you love him for him, and how you never want to leave his side.

Jack looks down at you, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth, pulling them together and kissing your knuckles.

“I promise you, no one here thinks that,” he starts, his words oozing with sincerity. “There is not a single person that matters to me in my life more than you. And absolutely no one’s opinion of you matters to me other than your own. Do you think you’re with me for the wrong reasons?” He asks you, waiting for you to answer him.

You shake your head no, breaking his eye contact.

“Hey, look at me,” he squeezes your hands that are still resting near his mouth, bringing your eyes back to his. “Then absolutely nothing else matters, okay? I know who you are, and you know who you are. Last time I checked, we’re the only two in this relationship, so that’s the only two people I’ll ever be looking to for opinions concerning my choices in this relationship, got it?”

You nod, a little embarrassed you were ever worried in the first place after his small speech, but still needing the hear his words nonetheless.

You’re still looking up at him, opening your mouth to tell him how much you love him when your stomach growls between the two of you, loud enough you nearly jump back.

Jack’s eyes flicker down to your stomach and back up to your eyes, the amusement in them making the blue shade shine even brighter.

“On that note, let’s go get you something to eat,” he chuckles, kissing your forehead before dropping one of your hands, the other still intwined with yours, pulling you out of the room behind him.

Jack led you down to the kitchen, digging around in the fridge to sneak you a snack before everyone sat down for dinner, knowing the meal wouldn’t be ready for at least another hour.

After he was satisfied that you weren’t going to starve, thanks to the small bowl of fruit he found, the two of you walked out to the back deck, joining everyone else.

The Lawsons had already arrived, Jim and Ellen standing on the other side of the large deck, conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Lawson separately.

Mrs. Lawson is a short, slim woman. Her hair is flawlessly styled into a ‘looks lazy but really took an hour’ up do, wearing a light purple, short sleeve pleated dress that fell just above her ankles, a simple pair of sandals on her feet.

Her husband is a tall man with salt and pepper hair, wearing a matching polo shirt and khaki shorts, a pair of Hey Dude brand shoes on his feet.

As soon as the two of you walked out onto the porch, Ellen was immediately halting her conversation to introduce you to the guests.

“Oh! There they are! Aren’t they just dolls? Look at them!” she gushed, walking over to greet the two of you.

You smile warmly at her, your relationship with Jack’s mom almost as dear to you as your relationship with your own. The two of you were able to sit and talk with one another during the hockey game her and Jim had come into town for the first time you met them. You both were invested in the game itself, considering all three Hughes boys were on the ice that night, but the intermissions were full of conversations and stories. You left the rink that night feeling like you had gained another mother, exchanging numbers with Ellen and promising to keep in touch. You now have weekly phone calls with Ellen, her interest in your life and well being matching that of her interest in her son’s.

“Mom, we literally saw you an hour ago on the boat, calm down,” Jack tells her, earning soft smack to his chest from you.

“Don’t be a grump, Jack. She’s telling us how good we look and you choose now to suddenly act like you don’t love being told you look pretty,” you scold.

Jack looks down at you with his mouth slightly open, putting on his best fake offended face.

“See, I told you she keeps him in check for me. Now I don’t have to carry the burden all by myself anymore,” Ellen tells Mrs. Lawson, earning a laugh from the woman standing just behind her.

You and Jack continue to have a small stare down until he conceded, choosing to flash a smile at you instead, sticking his tongue out like a child and earning a small giggle from you.

“Y/N, this is Deborah, but we all call her Deb. Deb, this is Y/N, my new baby girl,” Ellen breaks up yours and Jack’s moment, introducing you to Mrs. Lawson.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Lawson,” you say, removing your hand from Jack’s so you could step forward and give a small, greeting hug to the woman in front of you.

“Oh honey, Mrs. Lawson was my mother-in-law, please, call me Deb,” she tells you as she pulls back from the hug.

“Okay, Deb is it,” you laugh, stepping back beside Jack.

“C’mere, I need a hug from you too, Jack,” she motions Jack over to her, your boyfriend walking over to give her a slightly longer hug than you shared with her. “My, you’ve grown up, haven’t you? Last time I saw you, you were just getting ready to declare yourself draft eligible. Now look at you, the real deal.”

Jack blushes as he steps back towards you, knowing how shy he gets when complimented.

He may be cocky on the ice and in interviews, but you’ve learned that when it comes to the people that are close to him, Jack is extremely humble. He turns a light shade of pink any time you compliment how well he played after a game, or when his mom calls to tell him she watched his game on tv and cheered so loud she woke their cat up anytime he scored a goal.

“Just enjoy playing the game, is all,” he slips his hand back into yours. You give it a light squeeze.

“Ron, quit talking golf and get over here! Come say hi to Jack and his girlfriend!” Deb turns and shouts to her husband behind her. Both Mr. Lawson and Jim leave their spot by the heating grill and walk over to join your small group.

“Jack, how are ya, boy?” Mr. Lawson walks up, pulling Jack from your hold, bringing him in by his arm for what you call a ‘guy’ hug, each having one arm slug over the other’s shoulders, their clasped hands trapped between their chests.

“Getting by alright. Happy to have a bit of a break. Couldn’t wait to show Y/N here the ways of the lake house,” Jack motions to where you stand slightly behind him.

“Oh gosh, where are my manners. Hi, sweetheart, I’m Ron,” Mr. Lawson sticks his hand out towards you, shaking it softly.

“Hi, Jack’s told me a lot about you two. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lawson” you reference both of the Lawsons, repeating part of your greeting to Deb.

“Oh, no, Mr. Lawson is my father, I’m just Ron, dear,” he mirrors his wife’s earlier statement, stepping over to place his arm around her waist.

You chat with the couple a bit longer, noticing after a few minutes that Quinn and Luke are nowhere to be found. Neither was their daughter Ellen had mentioned earlier.

“Not to interrupt, but where are Quinn and Luke?” you ask just as Ellen finishes telling Ron and Deb about a recent cruise her and Jim had been on.

“Oh, they took Sarah out for a spin on the boat before dinner. She said she missed the water, so away they went,” Deb explains, looking over to Jack. “She’s so excited to see you again, Jack. She always talks about wanting to get across the bridge to see a game, but you know her, a workaholic and all.”

You sense a slight rigidness in Jack’s body language at the mention of Sarah. He responds with a simple “Yeah, that’s a shame,” not offering any other words about the mystery girl.

You were confused. You had thought Ellen said the boys were friends with Sarah growing up. Why did Jack tense up when she was mentioned? Had there been some sort of falling out? Was he not excited to see her? He hadn’t mentioned anything when you brought her up earlier, causing you to assume he just didn’t know much about her, having lost contact after they both were busy and didn’t have as much time to spend at the lake anymore.

As soon as Jack had finished speaking, you heard loud laughter coming from the long deck at the end of the house’s yard, seeing three figures quickly approaching the porch you were standing on.

“See, told you I could still beat you, just like when I was a kid!” you hear an unfamiliar voice call out, footsteps coming up the wooden stairs leading to the porch.

“Not fair, you didn’t tell me it was a race until you were already at the end of the deck,” you recognize the voice this time, Luke uttering his words between fast breaths.

As you look towards the stairs, you see one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen in your life step onto the porch.

She had jet black hair that fell to her mid back, perfectly pin straight. She had the greenest eyes you think you’d ever seen, and her tan skin was a shade that people usually had to be photoshopped to achieve. She was wearing a sundress similar to yours, but hers was a baby blue color, complementing her skin tone and hair perfectly. It fell right at her mid-thigh, and had a floral print running across the fabric.

“Hey, everyone. Hope we didn’t miss dinner,” she said, waltzing over to the wet bar to grab a bottle of water as Luke and Quinn make their way up the stairs, coming to stand a few feet from you and Jack.

“Oh, not even close, honey. You’re just in time. Your dad and Jim were just about to put the chicken on the grill,” Deb tells her daughter, beaming at her.

She walks over to join everyone, not stopping until she’s stood right in front of Jack.

“Oh, Jacky! I’ve missed you so much! It’s been so long!” she wraps him in a hug. His arms stay pinned to his sides, his body going rigid with discomfort. You notice the looks from Quinn and Luke, confused at their wide eyes.

He coughs, causing her to detach herself from his body, but not removing her hand from his shoulders.

“Well, that hockey training sure has been good to you, hasn’t it Jacky,” she continues, squeezing his biceps with a smirk before dropping her hands, completely ignoring you.

The second her hands leave his body, Jack is stepping back over to you, placing his hand on your waist.

“Uhh, Sarah, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, Sarah,” Jack says, squeezing you to his side.

“Oh! You’re the new girlfriend my mom was telling me about. How sweet!” she coos, placing her hand on her chest. “Jack, she’s so pretty. But, what happened to Macey? You know, the one with the pretty blonde hair? Oh, and the absolute insane body. Seriously, I need her personal trainer’s number,” she asks, looking around at everyone.

You think about your brunette hair and know exactly what she’s trying to do.

“Not in the picture anymore. Didn’t really like the fact that she kept sticking her tongue down some Philly player’s throat when she came to visit me during an away game,” Jack spat out, grinding his teeth.

“What a shame. I liked her,” Sarah waved it off, making a small pout with her lips. “But, I’m sure you’re great too!” she added as an after thought, flashing the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

You feel a presence step up behind you, Quinn slyly whispering “ex-girlfriend” in your ear, suddenly making Jack’s body language and her backhanded warmth towards you make sense.

“Okay, well, time to go get the food on the grill. Food will be ready in around thirty,” Jim claps his hands together, sensing the need to break up the awkward moment.

“Oh great, I’m absolutely starving,” Sarah exaggerates her last word, turning and walking towards the sliding glass door leading to the kitchen.

You stand there, not knowing how to process what just happened, Jack’s grip on you as tight as ever. You look over to Ellen, who gives you a sympathetic look.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Deb sighs and shakes her head in amusement, completely oblivious to her daughter’s fake niceness and obvious flirting with Jack. “She’s something else, isn’t she? Such a little firecracker,” she reflects, nothing but adoration in her tone and on her face.

“Yeah, one that backfires into the innocent bystanders,” Quinn mumbles under his breath, earning a snort from Luke. Ellen shoots them a glare, darting her eyes towards Deb to see if she heard, but the older woman was still staring adoringly at her daughter in the kitchen through the glass doors.

Thirty minutes later, just like Jim announced, everyone was sat at the large outdoor table, food covering the large surface.

The food was amazing, the bowl of fruit from earlier long gone as you sat down to fill your plate, wanting seconds of almost everything.

“Jack, will you hand me the potato salad, I swear, I can’t get enough of it,” you ask your boyfriend who’s sitting to your right.

He reaches over and grabs the bowl, scooping a spoonful on to your plate for you. “That good? Or you want more?”

“No, that’s good. Gotta save room for dessert,” you tell him, picking up your fork to dig in.

Jack places his hand on your thigh, smiling over at the little happy dance you do when you scoop the potato salad into your mouth.

“Oh, I’m so full,” you hear Sarah say, raising her voice to make sure the whole table hears her. “I wish I could be like you, Y/N, I’d love to have seconds, but I just cannot hold another bite, I’m already so bloated as it is,” she places her hands over her stomach to emphasize. “You’re so lucky you’ve already snagged a man and don’t have to worry about watching what you eat anymore.”

You stop mid-chew, her words sinking in.

You look around the table, everyone looking at you. Deb and Ron are smiling at you, not at all reacting to their daughter’s words, likely not even understanding the connotation of what she just said. Ellen and Jim are looking at Sarah, their eyebrows raised in shock. Quinn is glaring at her while Luke’s mouth is dropped open.

Jack’s hand is digging into your thigh, his other hand closed, clenches in a tight fist on the tablet next to his glass of water.

You finish chewing your food and swallow thickly, placing your fork down and sliding your plate away from you.

“Oh, no, don’t stop on my account. I’d kill to be able to be as comfortable as you are. Not having to worry about impressing anyone anymore, just being able to know you’re loved, no matter what you look like,” she continues, taking a sip of her water to hide her smirk.

You bow your head, your face a shade of red you can physically feel, refusing to meet anyone’s eye.

Luke coughs, a faint “bitch” heard by your ears.

“Okay, I think it’s time we clear the table for dessert, shall we,” Ellen pipes up, her own smile strained.

“Great idea, let me help you,” Deb, either still oblivious or intentionally ignoring the hurtful nature of her daughter’s words, starts to stand.

“No, I got it,” Jack surprises you by standing, taking everyone’s plates and quickly stomping off of the porch.

You could feel the anger radiating off of him when Sarah was talking, probably choosing to leave the area before he said something he would regret.

“Here, let me help, too,” Sarah stands, taking a few food dishes in her hands and stepping inside behind Jack before anyone could protest.

The table is silent after she leaves. You sit there, debating on just sliding out of your seat and under the table, wanting to hide. Luke, who was sitting next to you, brings his hand over to rest on your shoulder, trying to provide some comfort.

You look over at him to see a concerned look as he mouths a silent “You okay?”, nodding your head yes, despite the heavy feeling in your stomach.

You look up again, straight at Sarah’s parents, wondering how they can be so ignorant about their daughter’s malicious words.

You meet Ellen’s eye, seeing a sad, pleading look, begging you to forgive her with her expression. You give her a small smile, shaking your head to tell her it’s alright.

Ron is the one to finally break the silence, looking around at everyone with a genuine smile, once again proving your suspicion they’re unaware of the shift in atmosphere.

“Ellen, please tell me you made your famous cheesecake. It’s been too long since I’ve had a slice,” he speaks, unable to read the room.

Ellen partakes in empty small talk with Deb and Ron about how she makes her cheesecake when you decided you need to go check on Jack.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go help Jack,” you say flatly, standing from your seat and all but running inside, the urge to walk over and shake the Lawsons while shouting “your daughter’s a bitch!” in their face your cue to leave the table.

You enter the kitchen, seeing the dishes both Sarah and Jack brought in littering the counter, but neither one of them was to be found in the spacious area.

You walk through the house, calling out Jack’s name softly as you pass the stairs, making your way to the small sitting room at the front of the house.

“Jack, I don’t get it. What does she have that I don’t? What about her makes her any better than me?” you hear the sound of Sarah’s voice coming from the foyer.

“What the hell do you mean? Everything! She has everything you don’t!” you hear Jack exclaim, stopping in your tracks.

Were they talking about you?

“Jack, we were good together! We had fun. I don’t understand why you ended things between us. Hell, I took a job in New York because you said you were probably going to New Jersey to play. We could have been the new it couple of New Jersey!” it was Sarah’s turn to raise her voice.

Jack shakes his head, a dry laugh making its way out of his mouth. “What part of I didn’t want to don’t you understand?” Jack spits out. “You had fun. You chose to move to New York. You thought were good together. There was never any we in any of that.”

You can practically see the veins popping out on Jack’s forehead through his tone, even though they were out of view.

“All you ever cared about when we were together was the fact that I was about to play professional hockey. You didn’t care about me, you just cared about what I could offer you!” he shouts again. “The fact you just admitted you cared more about being the “it” couple more than you cared about wanting to be with me proves it.”

“Well, sue me for wanting to live the life of the rich and famous,” Sarah says, scoffing.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Jack huffs out. “Y/N doesn’t care about living the life of the rich and famous. She just wants me. She wants Jack, not ‘Jack Hughes, star forward, number one overall draft pick’,” he puts on his announcer voice.

“All my life, people have only ever cared about how well I played hockey. Every coach, every teammate, every girl. They all saw me as a hockey player. They wanted me on their team, or in their bed, because they wanted what came with me: attention and popularity,” Your heart breaks at Jack’s voice, never having heard him sound so deflated before.

“Hell, you introduced me to people as a future professional hockey player before you ever introduced me to them as your boyfriend,” he continues. “With Y/N, that’s far from the most interesting thing about me. When she first introduced me to her family, she told them I was her best friend’s brother,” he refers back to the first time you took him home to meet your family, the subject of hockey not coming up until your dad asked if he liked sports, only to berate him for not being a football player. Later that night he asked him how hockey worked. Your dad has never missed a Devils game since, either in person or on tv.

“Her favorite fun fact to tell people about me isn’t a stat, or how many hat tricks I’ve scored,” he keeps going. “It’s that I love to sing Shakira when I’m in the shower. Or that I’m the only other person other than her dad that has ever made her laugh so hard water has come out of her nose,” Jack lightly laughs.

“Hey, Y/N, everything okay-“ you hear Quinn’s voice rounding the corner.

Cutting him off with a “shhh” you place your finger on your mouth to tell him, and Luke who trails behind him, to be quiet, pointing to the sitting room where Jack and Sarah are arguing.

“So, yeah, I would say I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted out of me, but I’m not. I’m not sorry that I broke things off with you. I’m not sorry that I found someone that actually loves me for who I am. And I’m not sorry that I brought the woman that I plan on marrying here with me, and you just so happened to be here too,” Jack tells her, his voice still holding a slight trace of anger.

“I am sorry that I never told my parents what really went down between us, telling them we just agreed it would be too hard and we needed to go back to being friends, because maybe they wouldn’t have invited you over tonight. I am sorry that I didn’t take Y/N out for dinner, trying to avoid what’s happening right now. I am sorry that you can’t begin to fathom someone can see through your forced smiles and backhanded comments, seeing how cold and rotten you really are on the inside. And I am sorry that your poor, sweet parents were given such a malicious bitch as a daughter,” He finishes.

“You know, my mom said Ellen told her you showed her a ring, but I thought it was just a gift. You’re really going to propose to her?” Sarah asks, annoyance clear in her voice, spitting out her last word with unmistakeable disgust.

“Of course it’s true. Bought the ring months ago, been carrying it around with me every since. Showed mom the night she met her, told her I was serious about her and that she’s the one. I think part of me knew that from the moment I met her,” you hear Jack say, hearing the tenderness in his voice when the subject turns to you.

Your head whips over to Luke and Quinn, your eyes wide and your mouth handing open. The panicked look on their faces is all the confirmation you need to know that you heard Jack right. He bought you a ring. He bought you a ring and showed his mom. He bought you a ring and showed his mom and was going to propose to you.

Before you know what you’re doing, your body is leading you to the entryway where your boyfriend is arguing with his ex-girlfriend.

“Y/N, no, wait,” Quinn tries to stop you, but it’s too late.

“You bought me a ring?” you ask as you enter the room, seeing Jack and Sarah standing several feet apart from each other.

“Oh, great, the woman of the hour,” Sarah rolls her eyes at you, throwing her arms up and letting them fall to her side.

You shoot her a glare, not at all concerned about her comments from earlier anymore.

You turn your head to Jack, who’s face looked as panicked at Luke and Quinn’s.

“Jack, you said you bought me a ring. Is that true?” you ask him, begging him to answer you.

Jack gulps, nodding his head yes.

“Right…” is all you can say, trying to digest what’s happening.

You look back and forth between Jack and Sarah, your gaze finally landing on the unimpressed one of Sarah.

“Listen, I don’t care what happened between you and Jack however many years ago, but I don’t appreciate you coming to his family’s house and acting like a nasty bitch to me because you got dumped and I’m the one getting the ring,” you tell her, earning a shocked scoff from her. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you took your nasty attitude and sad insecurities out of this house and elsewhere. I have something I need to discuss with the man that chose me .”

You hear the faint snorts of Quinn and Luke behind you, while Jack’s face moves from panicked to shocked as he looks between the two of you.

“God, you don’t have to ask me twice. All of this melodrama is giving me a headache. You’re not worth this. I can get any guy from the Knicks roster, I don’t need to waste my time on hockey players anymore,” Sarah says before she storms out of the room.

You watch her go, giving her a sweet smile and a wave on her way out.

“That was…the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Jack tells you, walking over to where you stood.

You roll your eyes at him, hitting him in the chest once he gets close enough to you.

“Ow! What was that for?” Jack asks you, rubbing where you thumped him

“For not telling me that Sarah was your ex-girlfriend when I was telling you how excited I was to meet her earlier” you exclaim while looking up at him, poking him in the chest with each word

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had anything to be worried about and get even more in your head about this dinner,” he tells you, grabbing your finger and pushing your hand down to your side.

“Yeah, well a lot of good that did,” you roll your eyes, bringing your hand up to softly smack his chest again.

“God, woman, stop hitting me!” Jack yelps again. “What the hell was that one for?”

“For buying me a ring only a few months into our relationship! And then for not telling me you were going to propose, you idiot!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around.

“Well, I don’t know if you know this or not, but most proposals are usually a surprise,” he tells you, grabbing your arms and holding them apart, preventing you from hitting him again.

“Still. Why would you buy it so soon into us dating, Jack? What if you ended up hating me once we hit six months, or you found out I snored and decided you didn’t want to share a bed with me for the rest of your life?” you ask him, earning a laugh from your boyfriend.

“I knew that you were it from the moment I met you. There’s absolutely no chance of me ever getting sick of you, or hating you,” Jack tells you honestly, the intensity behind his eyes causing you to believe his words. “Also, you do snore, and I think it’s cute, don’t worry.”

You try to hit his chest again, but your arms are still being held by his hands.

“So, is this a good time for me to say I never really liked Sarah,” Luke chimes in, reminding you that him and Quinn are standing in the entrance of the room.

“Luke, you’re such an idiot,” Quinn tells him, flicking him on the back of his curly head.

“What? It’s true. I liked Y/N the second I met her, but Sarah was always just a bitch,” Luke rubs the back of his head as he speaks. “Why do you think Quinn and I took one for the team and took the wicked witch out on the boat so we could keep her out of your hair for as long as possible?”

“Thanks, Luke,” you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Well, I guess it’s time to tell mom that she knows you’re proposing,” Quinn says, looking towards Jack.

“Oh, no, no one is going to know that she knows. I had this whole thing planned out, and I’m not letting Y/N ruin her own proposal,” Jack says, finally letting go of your hands.

“Do I at least get to see the ring?” you ask him, hopeful.

“Nope,” Jack shakes his head, popping the ‘p’.

You huff, crossing your arms and looking at him with a pout, until you remember his words from a few minutes before.

“Wait, you told Sarah you carry the ring with you everywhere, does that mean it’s here? In this house?” Jack’s face falls, eyes looking anywhere but your own.

“No…”

Your face lights up, looking towards the stairs before back at Jack, turning and making a run for your room.

“Oh no, you don’t!” he runs after you, catching up to you in no time.

He grabs you by your torso and swings you around, sitting you back at the bottom of the stairs as he guards them.

“Not fair, your stupid hockey speed and reflexes can shove it,” you pout again.

As you stand at the bottom of the stairs, Quinn and Luke watch the two of you, admiring how perfect the two of you are for each other.

Luke thinks back to when he decided to introduce you to his older brother, knowing he made the right decision, the two of you bringing out the best versions of the other.

And when he stands, hidden with his family as he watches his brother get down on one knee, proposing to the girl that stood at the bottom of the stairs, demanding to see her ring, he knew sneaking into Jack’s room and moving the ring to his own room was the right move, the shock on your face worth the two week long silent treatment you gave him when you found out what he had done.

866 notes · View notes

gretavanmoon · 3 months

Text

S A L T Y

Jake x female reader

4.8k words

+ After indulging in a shared stamina-boosting treat in the dead of summer, you find yourself twisted up in a silly argument that's laced with jealousy... the salt is heavy in more ways than one with this one.

Happy Fourth of July! Keep this in your back pocket for your post-firework bedtime story. Gracias to @gretavangroupie for edits and forcing me to post this love yaaaaa

Warnings: 18+! Angst: Cursing, Substance Use in the form of Aphrodisia, Arguing, Mentions of Alcohol, Heavy Jealousy & Possessiveness, Overall Bossiness Smut: Kissing, Touching, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (M! and F! Receiving), Dom/Sub kinda

“Son of a bitch, if we keep it up like this I’m not gonna have anything left in me, baby,” Jake admits as he removes his right foot from the arm of the couch, the other standing weakly on the floor, barely holding his weight. Your body is bent in half, your arms holding you uncomfortably upright as he pulls out from behind you, hands still gripped and squeezing tightly around your waist.

You and Jake had made the early afternoon decision to each eat a special pleasure-boosting chocolate that you’d been told about by a friend a few months ago, and saying that the effects always took perfectly for the both of you would be an understatement. Just one serving would have the two of you ravenous for each other for hours on end, and seeing as how neither of you had anything to do for the rest of the day, it only seemed right to end the weekend on a high note. It was only after you’d both eaten the chocolate and after you figured out that your air conditioning had decided to go out that you told Jake about your plans for next weekend, thus sending him into a pissed-off mood that was borderline a thrown tantrum. But you accounted his mood to the extra blood flow the chemicals in the chocolate had given him going straight to his dick, leaving little for his brain to process thoughts.

“Hah, look at you calling me baby, after bitching at me all day,” you quip, turning to meet eyes with him as you stand up straight again, the feeling of your own wetness sliding between your thighs. Your muscles already feel weak as you turn to plop back down on the plush cushions of the couch, careful not to drip anything on your freshly washed covers.

He instantly falls to his knees, growling as he grabs the insides of both of your legs to pull you closer to the edge of the couch. His mouth is instantly connected to your core, his tongue already burying itself deep inside your deepest crevices. You’re both groaning from near exhaustion, willing your bodies to keep up with your desire.

“I can bitch at you and still call you baby, Y/N. Not my fault you said yes to a date with someone else without my permission,” he barks before diving back between your legs.

Your hands smooth back the strands of hair sticking to his forehead, pulling them away from his face as you bite both your lips in, finding it insanely difficult to stop yourself from wailing his name so loudly you disturb the neighbors. He’s being facetious and you know that, but his attitude makes it all the more challenging to not give in to him completely. You love it when he gets a little jealous.

Instead of yelling at him, you bite a quick “fuck me” through your tightly clenched teeth, hoping to god he doesn’t hear you. His brow furrows as he makes eye contact with you, a maddening expression painted on his sweat-coated face that you’re sure is only there simply for the sake of playing dumb. “Are you just raving, or is that a request?” he growls as he pulls away just long enough to breathe his words out.

“Neither, asshole,” you lightly tap your fingertips to the side of his temple, knocking him sideways as he presses your legs apart, giving him further access to work you. He likes it. He gets off on you being playfully scornful to him. He cracks a short-lived but devious smile before turning back into his whiney self.

You take a quick breath, ready to explain yourself again. “And it’s not a date, it’s drinks. With my co-workers. How in the– aahhh, fuckkkk– how in the fuck is that a date?” Your eyes begin to roll back a little as he points his tongue directly over your clit, arrogantly knowing exactly what makes you fall apart for him.

He pulls his head back with a hiss, making you disconnect your hands from his roots as he eyes you meticulously. He licks his lips, your slick still coating the 5 o’clock shadow that’s now adorning his face after going at it with you all day. His eyes never leave yours as he plunges his two middle fingers inside you, pushing his other hand against the inside of your left thigh. “How is it not a date, baby? Don’t be fucking coy. You dated the man.”

You groan in aggravation as he pisses you off even more, still pinning your leg to the side as his fingers work inside you, hitting your g-spot with so much fucking ease you want to slap him again. “I went on two dates with him! That hardly qualifies as dating, Jacob,” you retort as he flicks his fingers with more precision. Your head falls back again, the pleasure coming in rippling waves now as you feel your stomach tightening. “Plus, he’s my manager… invited everyone… how am I supposed to say no to that?”

The air shifts a little as he loudly clicks his tongue.

“Did you ever fuck him?” he asks quickly, sitting back on his heels as he completely halts all movement of his hand.

“What?”

He leans in, hovering over your belly as his face is dangerously close to yours, his fingers still buried deep but staying completely still. “Did… you…ever… fuck him? Simple question, love.”

You swallow, not expecting the conversation to even go here, let alone while you’re literally fucking him.

Your eyes dart side to side, the blurry memories of sleeping with the man who is now your boss those some ten-odd years ago flashing through your mind. That was a lifetime ago, you were barely in college a few weeks. And it was two dates and a hookup before the two of you decided to just stay friends, and that was that. You’d only seen him in passing a handful of times over the years, but to be quite honest, after sleeping with him, he barely ever even crossed your mind.

You swallow again as Jake’s eyebrows raise, waiting for you to answer. He shoves his fingers deeper inside you to remind you that he asked a question, making you clench around him. “Fuck! Yes, okay? Yes. We slept together one time, Jake. Once. And it was ten fucking years ago.”

He stays silent as he bites his lip in, a rush of what looks like disappointment crashing over his face for just a second. He slowly picks up the pace again, delving his fingers inside at a much slower pace, now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he mumbles, still biting his lips. You can tell that your admission has defeated him just a little.

“Tell you what? That I hooked up with him once? Probably because it feels like it was a figment of my imagination, at this point. I was eighteen. Why does it matter?” you ask, wondering if he’s really upset, or if he’s just pouting at the fact that you left this little detail out about this certain person you work with.

“He’s your fucking manager, Y/N, I don’t know…” he says, shaking his head side to side. You can see the sweat starting to form on his chest, the drips starting to form into a stream that is dripping down to his stomach. You could feel the heat of the day starting to creep into the walls now that the A/C has been out for a few hours, and the sun practically baking everything it touches outside isn’t helping in the matter. But there’s nothing you can do about it right now, the both of you will just have to suffer until the chocolate wears off and you can act like humans instead of rabid animals.

You stay quiet as you feel the knot tightening in your stomach again, wanting him to continue so you can reach your high, but also feeling the heavy shift in the conversation. You glance at the sweat pouring from him, and some kind of carnal instinct to want to taste it takes over your entire being. You suddenly need your mouth on him. You need to lick up every droplet of sweat that’s rushing down his body, and swallow it down. Taking matters into your own hands, you grab his wrist and rip his hand from you, standing up as you pull him to his feet. The soreness sets in again, having been in nearly every position in the Kama Sutra already today.

You pull on his hands, making him follow you into the bedroom. “What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks, trailing behind.

“Come in here, come lay down,” you order, turning him to push him down into the already messy sheets. Luckily, there’s a fan in here, giving the two of you a little reprieve as the heat fills the house. You watch as his tanned body falls backwards into the stark white sheets, his hair falling behind him as he reclines. His skin is glowing, his eyes trained on you, watching your every move as you crawl up him, purposefully snaking your body so that he has a visual of every single curve of your sweat-covered self.

You lean down, outstretching your tongue and touching his navel, working your way up his stomach and to his chest, collecting the deliciously salty taste of him on your tongue. There’s something about it, the flavor and the scent and the way he feels beneath you… it’s not the most pleasant, but you’re positive nothing on this earth tastes or smells more like home to you. You’d always read about how animals are attracted to their mates’ scent, and you never understood how it could apply to humans, too, until you became serious with Jake. It’s something that’s just wired into your brain now, and the longer you’re together, the more you find yourself craving it. Craving him.

“I’m sweaty and gross, babe,” he complains as he leans up and twists his hair into a knot behind his head, remnant baby hairs still sticking to and framing his face.

“You think I care? You taste so good… like you just got out of the ocean…” you say honestly, making him laugh a little through his nose. You run your tongue all over him, his sides, his groin, his pecs and his neck… each place tasting better than the last, and each spot making him absolutely feral at the feeling of your mouth on him. His light moans of bliss fill the room as his hands search for any part of you he can grab on to, his eyes fluttering open and closed as you watch his face light up.

You can tell he’s getting hard again as you let your lips lightly ghost over his shaft, the chocolate still putting in work in keeping him turned on. Finally, you find yourself starving for him again, too, letting your lips cup over the head of his dick as you give it one tight little squeeze.

“Please baby, fuck…” he grunts, his knees bending up and around your body. One thing about the way this chocolate works is that it amplifies everything, making every brush, every touch, every sensation amplified by a hundred. You have already had your mouth on him a couple of times today, but you can imagine how he feels simply from your experience with his mouth on you earlier, begging and wanting and needing the feeling so desperately. Absolutely bursting at the seams to experience the euphoria.

You move your body to straddle him, letting your already completely soaked core drift over his cock, ready and waiting to fill you again.

“Don’t think I forgot about the conversation we were having, Jake,” you tease as you position your knees firmly on either side of him. He fills his cheeks and blows out a long puff of air, his hand hitting his forehead to wipe away the sheen of sweat.

“I don’t remember us having a conversation, Y/N, but I remember me expressing to you that I’m not happy with this arrangement,” he says, smirking at you a little while he runs his tongue along his teeth. “You fucked him! And you work with him! And you never even told me!” he all but yells.

You let your opening line up with his tip, letting yourself fall on to it just an inch or so. Your body was begging you to sit all the way down, the fire burning within your veins way past its boiling point. But you held strong.

“You think I fucked him, Jake?” you ask, swirling your hips gently on him.

He tries his best to stifle his words, but he comes up short. “Oh my god, baby, you feel so– please…” he begs, his jaw falling slack just from the tiny touch. His eyes pop open and look at you, his expression absolutely pleading for more. “Yeah, you told me you did…”

You pause, letting the heavy air hang for just a second as you laugh a little under your breath. You shake your head side to side at his naivety, wondering just how he thought the situation went down all those years ago. “I didn’t fuck him,” you answer, letting yourself fall another inch as your fingertips pause on his stomach. “I was eighteen, I didn’t even know what fucking was…” you purr, swirling on him again.

His chest is heaving with want, his growls now turned into desperate whimpers as he’s doing anything but begging you to let him fill you. You know that if things were normal, and if the two of you weren’t caught up in this childish back-and-forth, he’d be on his hands and knees for you, falling to the floor at your every whim. His hips buck up into you, but you rise on your knees, not allowing him to have any control over the matter.

“But you… you and me… this…” you go on as you sit back down, giving yourself centimeters. “I didn’t know what I was even missing, until I found you…” you admit. “No one has ever made me feel like you do.”

He takes a deep breath, centering himself. “None? None of them?” His hand sneaks up and presses a thumb to your clit, adding just enough pressure to make your breath catch.

You shake your head side to side again, as you’re almost seated to the hilt, the feeling of him filling you again already making your body shudder. “No baby, none of them. So you can cut the pissy attitude, or I’m hopping off of you, and taking care of myself.” With that, you sit down completely on him, your bodies finally resting together as you feel the tip of him buried as far as he could get.

“Ffffuckk, Y/N, god damnit, yes,” Jake howls into the room as his thumb still works your clit, his other hand rushing up to grip onto your hip. But you steady your movements. Though your body is burning for you to move, you want to give him the same lack of satisfaction he gave you earlier. But just for a second.

“Answer me, am I going to have to take care of myself, Jake? Or are you going to quit being salty over something that doesn’t fucking matter and let me fuck you how I want?”

You know the situation matters to him. And you’ll validate that later. But not right now. Right now it’s fueling too much angst and you’re having too much fun.

His grip on your hip tightens so hard that it almost hurts, his fingernails digging into the thick muscle there. You’re fully aware that both of you can get turned on from dirty talk alone, and the chocolate is only exaggerating the feeling. Your brain is buzzing with electricity from it. You love when he gets a little rough. He can tell that your body responds to the little bit of pain, and like a switch flipped in his brain, he lets it turn on all his lights. Suddenly both his hands are on your hips, switching the places of both of you in one swift movement. Your body is pressed against the mattress, your shoulders being held down as he hovers overtop of you. “How about you let me fuck you how I want, hm? How’s that sound?” he challenges with an air of greed.

Like a petty little pet, you nod your head, completely losing the war of being the one calling the shots the second he squeezes your clit between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation almost kills you, cuts off your ability to breathe altogether as he begins pulsing his fingers quickly, causing the desire to pool up in your belly all over again. He’s never really concentrated his fingers this pointedly before; usually his hands are grabbing and squeezing wherever they can. But with the most sensitive part of your body being held so tightly and at the mercy of his fingers, you feel completely at his will. “How about I show you exactly why you choose to stick around, and you’ll keep choosing it, no matter how many dates you go on with your boss.”

“God, give it up, Jake,” you complain, rolling your eyes dramatically as his movements set your whole body on fire again.

You’ve barely gotten the words out before his other hand is braced across your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to your pulse points. You want to swallow, but you can’t, all you can do is let out a pitiful whine that sounds more like a choked sob than a moan. His other two fingers are still gripped on your clit as he balances on his knees, his eyes laser sharp as the sweat continues to drip from his chest.

“Give it up? Give it up?! Baby, you’re being awfully bossy for someone who is in the wrong, here. And for someone who’s acting so bratty today,” he says, his voice sounding gentler than the words he’s spouting. “Tell me you won’t go to the bar with them. Tell me you’ll back out of the plans.”

Deep down, you know Jake doesn’t give a fuck who you hang out with. You’re both comfortable enough in your relationship that trust is paramount, and neither of you have ever tested it. He trusts you, and you him to come home to one another every night, never straying or giving the other a reason to be suspicious about anything at all.

He squeezes a little harder on your throat, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to your core as his eyebrows shoot up.

“Come with me. Come out with us. You haven’t met them yet, anyway… come let them see that I’m yours, we don’t even have to tell them. We can show them…” you suggest, honestly liking this idea way more. His grip on your throat loosens as bit as he contemplates the idea.

“Show them, hm?” Finally he nods, giving in to your suggestion. “Okay, yeah, I’ll show up…”

You nod back at him as you give him the tiniest smirk, bringing your own hand up to cup over his, squeezing his fingers a little tighter on you. “What’s with you today, huh? Testing me every five minutes…” he asks. His teeth grit against one another as the wind from the fan hits the back of his head just right, blowing his damp hair over his face as he lets go of his grip between your legs, adjusting his body so that he’s positioned perfectly above you again. His hand moves from your throat straight down to your tit, gripping the whole thing roughly as he takes his dick in his hand, running it up through your wetness. The sensation is enough to floor you, every single atom in your body on fire and wanting to feel him completely.

Your hands find his waist, pulling him into you with everything you have, your legs already wrapping around him. “Stop making me fucking wait Jake,” you spout. “I’ll stop bitching, I promise, just please…”

“Oh now you wanna back down…? Not like I haven’t gotten you off three times already today…”

“You’re the one who’s been fucking bitching like a teenager all damn day! God…” you rouse, knowing that your voice is probably grating on his nerves right now. He presses himself harder against you, daring you to say another word.

“Watch your mouth,” he warns, still holding himself in his hand. You can feel his pulse throbbing in the head of his dick as it presses up against you, and you know if you say another cross word, you’re in for it.

“And what if I don’t?” you press, sounding as prissy as you possibly can.

He taunts you with the same ultimatum that you gave him earlier, “Then I’ll just have to go and take care of myself, I guess… and leave you here unsatisfied. Your mouth has been nothing but aggravating today, Y/N, I swear to god…”

You roll your eyes at him, knowing he most definitely hasn’t forgotten about your lips sucking at him for nearly an hour today, if you added it all up.

“Will you just fuck me, Jake? I’ll keep my mouth shut if you shut yours…” you spout as you feel your core drip down onto the sheets.

“Is that a fucking promise?” he asks, cocking both eyebrows.

“Swear.”

Like a wild animal that can no longer control it’s instinct, he presses all the way into you, stifling all the noises that you know he wants to make. His body lurches to hover over you as he picks up a slow pace, his hips cracking with extreme precision as his thighs smack against the backs of your legs. “God, you get on my fucking nerves,” he jests through his teeth.

“Mutual,” you say quickly, jutting your chin upward.

Your throat is burning with rage as you stop yourself from crying out, only tiny breaths of whimpers escaping as you hold your side of the quiet bargain. His eyes are dark and devious as his hips snap harder, hitting you more deeply than he has all day. Your vision blurs into a deep black with each thrust, the pleasure threatening to make you go nonverbal, anyway.

An especially harsh breath falls from you as he bends your leg up, hitting you even deeper and at a new angle. He brings his left hand up to his mouth, pressing his pointer finger gently over his lips with a hushed ‘Shhh’.

Your hand flies up and cups around your mouth as you follow his order, ceasing all sounds that could possibly escape you. His eyes stay trained on you as his hair falls across his face and yours, his scent wafting across your nose as you take in chopped breaths through it. You force your eyes closed as the pleasure builds in your stomach, the familiar feeling of the beginning of another delicious orgasm overtaking your psyche. It burns, the threat of overstimulation creeping up in your insides, but you ignore it simply for the fact that you are going to feel him so wholly again, letting him bring you to the brink of no return for the third, fourth, fifth… whatever time it will be today.

Suddenly you feel his lips on the shell of your ear, his teeth biting in as he whispers. “I’ll go on your little work outing with you, but if I’m gonna endure being around a man who’s already fucked you, you’ll do things to my liking, got it?” he asks, and you know better than to say no right now. Your stomach muscles are tightening, jerking your body as the bliss builds up, so you nod in agreement as your hand is still clamped over your mouth. “You’ll wear that low-cut top with the lace straps that I like so much… and that black leather skirt that cuts at your thigh… wear my favorite perfume, and that pretty little necklace I got you for your birthday. Sound good, babydoll?”

You nod again as his teeth pull on your earlobe, his voice low and gravelly, still. “Good. Then it’s settled. Then everyone will see how tantalizing you look outside of your work clothes, and they won’t be able to do a goddamned thing about it… they won’t be able to touch you… They’ll just have to admire you from afar while I tease you under the table…” his hand ghosts down and his thumb finds your clit again, making your eyes shoot closed and your head tilt back into the pillows. Fuck, if he doesn’t always manage to win these things. And you know he isn’t lying, either. You know your entire work outing will be full of his hands secretly snaking between your legs under any table you’re sitting at, his hand gripping your ass at every turn, his eyes staring daggers through you from across the room…begging you to sneak with him into the bathroom.

You know how the game is played, and somehow, he always fucking wins whether you want him to or not. What you don’t know though, is that he thinks the exact same thing of you. You winning him over with the way you feel wrapped around him, your body drenched and buzzing beneath him. He always wins, even when he doesn’t.

“You gonna cum, baby? Let me have it one more time?” he asks, his hand now pressing down on your stomach where he can feel himself entering you with each pointed thrust he’s still delivering.

“Mhmm…” you moan into his neck, his mouth still sucking hard on your ear and everything surrounding it.

“You’re mine… all mine… no one else’s… give me what I want, baby,” he gloats, and his possessive words send a slow shockwave through your body, the rippling effects of the most intense orgasm you’ve had today sending your mind into a noiseless world of white light. All you can feel is him, all you can think about is him… and when you finally catch your breath and let your hand fall to the back of his neck, your pitiful moan on the come-down reverberates off the walls, sending him to finish right behind you.

When his breath finally evens enough to come back to earth, his body collapses on top of you, completely spent as he pulls himself out of you. You lean down to kiss his neck, his skin still coated in that sweet-salty goodness that is enough to get you going again, but you relax, feeling the effects of the chocolate beginning to slowly wear off.

He flips his head around to face you as you both lie face-down on the bed, and a smile that you haven’t seen all day sweeps across his pink, pouted lips. “Do I still taste like the ocean?”

You let your fingertips tousle the hair around his face, drenched and sticky. “Better than the ocean. You taste like you.”

His cheeks blush as his demeanor completely shifts into softness. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah baby, I know,” you reply with sincerity.

“And you don’t have to wear all that stuff to the bar. You’ll look beautiful in whatever you choose. You could turn heads in a burlap sack.”

You giggle as you pull his hand up to your lips, kissing his palm. “But what if I want to wear all that? What if I want you to tease me all night, make my boss even more jealous than he probably already is?” you press.

“Then it’s a no brainer. Do it up, baby. I trust you,” he says with confidence.

“Maybe I will,” you reply, taking a deep breath. “Not pissy anymore now that I gave you what you wanted?”

He smiles coyly, snaking one arm underneath you to pull you on top of him again. “Nah. No more bitching from me. I think I was about to have a heat stroke.” His hands are ghosting all over your body again, but not in a wanting way. His fingertips drift over your curves as if he’s adoring the body that is sitting over him. Simply taking the time to appreciate you.

“Me too,” you giggle, and you know that the festivities for the day have most likely reached their bittersweet end. “I’ll go start us a cold shower while you call the landlord, sound like a plan?” you ask, holding your hand up as you await a high-five.

“Deal,” he says, clapping his hand to yours. “But you can’t try and seduce me in the shower, I don’t think I have anything left in me. You’ve drained me dry, girl.”

You laugh through your nose as you hop into the floor, rushing off to the bathroom. “We’ll see about that.”

xoxoxo Jules

Taglist: @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner@cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas@whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @gretavangroupie

325 notes · View notes

logansargeantsbabymom · 2 months

Text

We'll Keep Him Safe

Arthur Leclerc x Fem!Reader, BRIEF Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

F1 Masterlist

The Fourth of July was supposed to be a day of celebration, but for Arthur and me, it became a haunting reminder of our darkest fears.

We had welcomed Bucky into our lives just a few weeks earlier—a tiny Dachshund with big, curious eyes and a playful spirit that lit up our home. His presence was like a ray of sunshine, weaving joy into the fabric of our everyday lives.

As evening descended and the first fireworks erupted in the sky, Bucky's excitement quickly turned to terror. The loud bangs and dazzling lights sent him into a panic, his small body trembling uncontrollably. Arthur and I tried everything to soothe him, wrapping him in blankets, holding him close, but nothing could calm his frantic fear.

"He's never heard fireworks before," I murmured, my heart aching as Bucky whimpered in my arms.

"We'll keep him safe," Arthur reassured me, his voice strained with concern.

We brought Bucky inside, hoping the familiar surroundings would ease his anxiety. But the fireworks continued, their intensity growing with each burst of sound and light. In a moment of sheer panic, Bucky slipped from Arthur's grasp and darted through the open back door.

"No, Bucky, come back!" I cried, my voice cracking with fear as I watched him disappear into the darkness.

Without a second thought, Arthur and I rushed outside, calling Bucky's name into the chaotic night. Our voices joined by neighbors' shouts, mingling with the distant sounds of celebration.

We searched tirelessly through the neighborhood, our hearts pounding with every corner turned, every hopeful glance that ended in disappointment. Hours stretched into eternity as we called out for Bucky, our desperation growing with each passing minute.

By the time we returned home in the early hours of the morning, hope had dwindled to a faint glimmer. Exhausted and defeated, I sank onto the couch, tears streaming down my face as Arthur sat beside me, his own grief etched deeply on his face.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I promised we'd keep him safe."

I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. We held each other in silent anguish, our hearts heavy with the weight of what might have been lost.

The next morning arrived with a heaviness that matched the ache in my chest. Arthur rose early, his determination unwavering as he prepared to continue the search. I stayed behind, trapped in a cycle of agonizing uncertainty. Every passing hour deepened my despair. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep—my mind consumed by visions of Bucky alone and afraid.

When Arthur returned later that afternoon, he was empty-handed and visibly exhausted. He collapsed onto the couch beside me, his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"We have to find him, Arthur," I pleaded, my voice trembling with fear. "He's out there somewhere."

Arthur took my hand, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I know, Y/N. I won't give up."

But as the day wore on and dusk approached once more, hope continued to slip through our fingers like sand. I stared out the window, my eyes fixed on the empty backyard where Bucky used to play. The silence was deafening, echoing the emptiness in my heart.

"I'm going out again," Arthur said quietly, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. "I won't stop until I bring him home."

I nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of my gratitude and fear. I watched Arthur leave, a solitary figure disappearing into the fading light.

Alone in the silence, my thoughts drifted back to the day we had brought Bucky home. I remembered the way he had bounded into our lives, his tail wagging furiously, his playful antics filling our home with laughter. Now, that laughter felt like a distant memory, drowned out by the ache of loss and the relentless tick of the clock.

Hours passed with agonizing slowness. I paced the living room, my mind a whirlwind of doubt and despair. I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing Bucky again, never feeling his warm, furry body nestled against mine, never hearing the pitter-patter of his paws on the hardwood floor.

When Arthur finally returned, it was well past midnight. His steps were heavy, his expression drawn and weary. I rushed to his side, my heart pounding with anticipation and dread.

"Did you find him?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

Arthur shook his head, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I looked everywhere."

I collapsed onto the couch, my hands covering my face as I gave in to the overwhelming grief. Arthur sank down beside me, pulling me close, his own tears mingling with mine.

"We'll find him," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "We have to."

But as the night stretched on, sleep remained elusive. I lay awake in the darkness, my thoughts consumed by memories of Bucky—the way he would curl up in my lap, the mischievous glint in his eyes when he stole Arthur's socks, the way he would nuzzle against my cheek when I needed comfort.

Morning dawned with a grayness that matched my mood. I rose wearily, my body heavy with exhaustion and grief. Arthur was already up, his eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights and endless searching.

"We have to do something," I said quietly, my voice hollow with despair. "We can't just sit here and wait."

Arthur nodded, his jaw clenched with determination. "I know a few shelters in the area. Maybe someone found him."

We spent the day visiting every shelter within driving distance, showing Bucky's picture to anyone who would listen. Each place held a flicker of hope that was quickly extinguished by the sight of empty cages and sympathetic glances.

By the time we returned home, our hearts were heavy with disappointment. I sank onto the couch, my hands trembling as I buried my face in Arthur's shoulder.

"We're never going to find him, are we?" I whispered, my voice choked with tears.

Arthur held me close, his own despair echoing mine. "We will, Y/N. We have to believe that."

But belief slipped through our fingers like water, leaving behind only the bitter taste of loss and regret.

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of Bucky. My grief became a constant companion, a heavy weight that pressed down on my chest and clouded my thoughts. Arthur continued to search, refusing to give up hope even as the days stretched into months.

One evening, as I sat alone in our quiet home, the doorbell rang. I answered it mechanically, my eyes dull with exhaustion.

Standing on the doorstep were Charles and his girlfriend Alexandra. Their faces were somber yet tinged with a glimmer of hope.

"We heard about Bucky," Charles began gently. "We've been keeping an eye out for him too."

I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Every mention of Bucky felt like a fresh wound, reopening the ache of loss I couldn't escape.

Alexandra stepped forward, her eyes bright with something I couldn't place. "Y/N, we were out driving earlier today, and we saw a dog that looked just like Bucky. He was sitting on someone's porch, looking lost."

My heart leaped into my throat, hope clawing its way through the fog of despair. "Are you sure?" I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with disbelief.

Charles nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Positive. We didn't want to get your hopes up, but we had to tell you."

Tears of relief and hope streamed down my face as I clung to Charles and Alexandra, their presence a lifeline in my darkest hour.

"Where did you see him?" Arthur asked urgently, his voice filled with urgency.

Charles gave him the address, and without hesitation, Arthur grabbed his keys and rushed out the door. I stood on the porch, my hands pressed against my racing heart, praying with every fiber of my being.

Minutes felt like hours as I waited, my thoughts a jumble of fear and anticipation. Finally, I saw Arthur's car pull into the driveway, Bucky's familiar face peering out the window.

My legs turned to jelly as I rushed forward, Arthur following close behind. Bucky bounded out of the car, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped into my waiting arms.

"Bucky! Oh, Bucky, you're here!" I cried, tears flowing freely as I showered him with kisses.

Arthur wrapped his arms around us both, relief flooding his expression. "I told you we'd find him," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

I buried my face in Bucky's fur, my heart overflowing with gratitude and love. We had found our way back to each other, through the darkness and despair, guided by the unbreakable bond we shared.

As we stood together in the fading light, surrounded by the echoes of our shared ordeal, I realized that sometimes, hope was all we needed to see us through. And as Bucky licked my face eagerly, his joyous barks filling the air, I knew that our little family was stronger than ever before.

In the quiet of the evening, with Arthur's arms around me and Bucky nestled against my heart, I knew that we had weathered the storm together, and we would continue to do so, one day at a time.

For in the echoes of that Fourth of July night, hope had triumphed over despair, and love had found its way home.

----------

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

253 notes · View notes

pennyserenade · 2 months

Text

devil in his heart | jackson rippner x reader

summary | after finding out your long-time boyfriend's real occupation, you have to grapple with who he really is. rating | (explicit) tags/warnings | 18+, dark, dubcon (bordering on noncon), smut, explicit smut, fingering, degradation, violence word count | 1.9k+ a/n | i honest to god don't know what possessed me, but we are all grown ups here. read with caution! enjoy! love ya! also: i wrote this to devil in his heart by the donays and he's got the power by the exciters, if you're interested in a soundtrack. not beta'd

Truth be told, this is the best game of cat and mouse he's had in years, and he doesn't like that it's ending so soon.

As he gets on your level, crouching near your slumped form, Jackson almost feels a little sorry that you couldn't win. It's not that you weren't witty enough--you were. It's just that, well, he's better. This reminds him of when he was ten and had wanted to go to space only to figure out when he was twelve that he was too scared of the vastness of the galaxy. Some things are just out of reach, too good to be true. He mourns it all the same.

His fingers tenderly push back sweat soaked strands of hair from your face. You look up at him, blurry-eyed, but still so resolute--lips thinned, smoldering with anger. God. He swipes a finger across your lip just to know what it feels like, and likes it better for the fact that you jerk away so aggressively that you knock your head back into the wall.

His tongue clicks. "You should've known, after following me all those weeks, that I'm good at this."

Jackson wraps his fingers tightly around your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. You give in, mostly because you have so little energy to protest. His eyes look ominously glacial, lit up only by the moonlight cascading in from the window.

You look down at his lips; the flesh there is still swollen, broken from the harsh swing of your elbow earlier in the night. His tongue spears out to feel at the area. "You're a sloppy assassin, baby. My blood's all over this goddamn place. All over you--" he gestures down to your simple white tee shirt, which has been made dirty with dirt, sweat, blood. You don't care. You feel dizzy and half-scared to pass out, to even think of it, because you've never seen him look quite like this.

You think back to that first time you met him, how he had seemed so polite. He was traveling by train to visit his folks back home for Christmas (he said things like 'folks' in a crisp Midwestern accent, for God's sake). He had said he worked in life insurance policy, which made you laugh and caused him to say, "I know, I know--ironic, Jack Rippner dealing out life insurance." You had thought it was ironic. It is: ironically cruel.

He buys his ties from GAP, his dress shirts from Macy's, likes EggNog and celebrates the fourth of July with as much enthusiasm as any plain, good-hearted American man can.

He’s met your mother; he loves her breadsticks.

You spit on him. It takes the very last of your strength, but it's worth it to see the way his eyes ignite. His hand wipes it off, thumb running through the saliva on his fingers as his lips purse. "You know," he begins, voice eerily calm, "I always thought we'd make good parents. God knows we've come close to it enough times. You just can't help but beg for my cum in you, the slut you are." He chuckles darkly. "I always imagined that you'd be the good cop and I'd be the bad one."

Jackson pushes your head back into the wall, propping you there, almost choking you, but not quite. You let out a deep, wavering breath. He smirks. "But I see that's not the case now, is it? You don't seem to like very much when I play with my food before I eat it, do you?" His fingers press against your lips again, saliva coated. You let him. "Here I thought, all along, 'my baby's a goddamn pacifist. She didn't even like fishing!' It kept me up at night, the idea of you finding out what I did. But look at you!" His thumb tenderly strokes your neck, moving around a mysterious fluid--could be your blood, his blood, spit, water, anything. "I think if I reached between your legs now, you'd be soaked."

You choke out a sound of protest, wiggling beneath his gasp. He tuts, his fingers digging more tightly into your throat. For a brief moment, you can’t breathe. You find enough strength to claw at his hand, to widen your eyes and plead.

“C’mon, you’ll like this. You always do.” He loosens his grip on your neck.

As you gasp for air, Jackson knocks your legs apart. It doesn’t take much effort to get your cunt—you’d foolishly made the mistake of wearing a dress today—and he hums in delight when his fingers reach past your cotton underwear, confirming what he suspected to be true. His lips form into a mocking pout as your eyes begin to well with tears. It's not fear—you’re beyond that. It’s anger. The betrayal of this curdles inside you, eating you alive. Your eyes fill with ire.

“Don’t be that way,” he shakes his head, softening a degree. He holds your chin between his fingers again, the other hand rubbing wide circles over your clit. “I’m not going to kill you. How could I? I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you, truth be told, but it’s not that.”

Your hips jerk involuntarily, causing him to growl. “That’s the spirit, kitten. When you hit me earlier, I thought—after, of course, 'God she’s a bitch!’—that you might be a good asset. I know you’ve got a lot of morals holding you back right now, so I figure I’ll let you do the easy work at first. Let you think you’re doing some good in the world.” He presses down on your clit, his touch more intent, more focused. You squirm, hating the way he knows that you like it like this.

His fingers slip down into your cunt, wetting them. “Fuck, you’re soaking. If this is how you get when we do this, you might just reform me. I’m not opposed. We—“ he reattaches his fingers to your cunt. You whine, arching into his touch.“—could do good work. I freelance, if you couldn’t tell already. Though I’m sure you can. You’re a thorough investigator when you want to be. That’ll be helpful, too.”

Jackson picks up his pace, swallowing as he stares down at your lap. He can’t see anything, his hand hidden beneath the fabric of the dress and your underwear, but it seems to thrill him all the same. You too, admittedly.

“I—I couldn’t,” you retort, biting at your lip. “You—you kill!”

“Don’t be such a prude,” he deadpans. “It’s political assassinations and occasionally, though very rarely, an innocent bystander. And I do my best to make sure those cases are few and far between. I do.” He presses down more intently, watching with delight as you squirm, trying not to cum. “Oh, go on. It’s just you and me here. No one’s gonna know except me, and I won’t tell anyone. I’m good with secrets. You know that now.”

He’s near exultant, talking to you about this. The pitch of his voice is higher, and he’s looking at you like he’s won a prize of the highest degree. You’d spit on him again if he wasn’t making you feel so goddamn good.

“I won’t do it,” you shake your head firmly. Jackson takes the opportunity to slip a finger in your cunt, to press in and show you how much he has always—will always—know you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll bite,” he soothes, entering another. It’s a squeeze, but a welcome one, especially when he begins to thrust them against the spongy surface of your walls. Your toes curl, and you hate him, hate him violently. “If you want me to be rough, you really only have to ask, but since you like this game so much we’ll play it.”

As he fingers you, he begins to palm your clit. The sensation is overwhelming. Tears cascade down your face and he leans forward, licking them from your lips. The warmth of the orgasm rises in you alarmingly quick, his fingers deftly touching the inside of you, his palm lining with your clit each time you rut involuntarily. Your body knows him. It trusts him. He knows it.

The orgasm licks through you like a goddamn flame, igniting everything and leaving it all worse for it. When you cry out, Jackson smirks, so fucking pleased. But he doesn’t stop. He goes on, rubbing down harder, thrusting in quicker, until you’re wiggling beneath him.

“Please!” you say, trying to move his hand away.

He’s resolute. “No can do, honey. You’ve been a naughty girl, indulgent in the worst way. Gluttony is a sin, and I've been good–I’ve never punished you for it before–but you’ve hurt my feelings now.”

He slides in a third finger, his crystal eyes dark in the shadows. You feel impossibly full, and on the brink of another orgasm. You whine out. He knocks your head back into the wall with force. It doesn’t take your breath away, but it stuns you to silence. “That’ll be enough of that. This is for me now, got it? Getting you all wet so my cock will fit in that tight cunt of yours. Want you to hear it, your pussy taking me.”

As if to prove a point, he thrusts in again, and you do hear it—the way your body allows him in. An obscene squelch. You bite your lip, feel more tears fall down your cheeks.

“Jackson—“ you plead. You’re tired, achy, terribly confused. He works you open so well. You can smell the sour sweet smell of his body odor. You love it. You cannot help it. Your body trusted this man for so long. Still does.

You fool, you tell yourself, before your body gives way to his will again—you collapse into him, screaming out a silent whimper as the orgasm makes you convulse.

“That’s it,” he encourages, not stopping. “Be good for me. If you’re good, we’ll make this enterprise into a family business. If you’re bad—well, we’ll just have to make this our life, won’t we? You all weak, me with all the power. I don’t think you’ll like it, but you understand, it’s how it must be done if you don’t obey.”

He sighs, as if it’s putting him out too.

You know he’s serious. What’s worse is you know he’s right: that you won’t like it, that he’ll get his way eventually.

When you give in, he knows immediately, lips quirking up into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your temple. “I always knew you had it in you a little. You were always such a whore for me. I’m happy it worked out so well for us both. Now–” He pushes your legs further apart, moving in with his own hips. “Let’s play your most favorite game. It’s longer, requires more patience, but I like it just as much as you do.”

The jingle of his belt buckle makes a shot of fear, mixed with arousal, shoot up your spine. You think: God, no.

He laughs darkly. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve been making sure you’ve been taking your birth control. I’m not really ready for that, either. It’s just the idea that thrills you, isn’t it anyway? And that smallest, tiniest chance that it could happen.” He smirks, loosening his belt. His fingers exit you, leaving you empty, feeling scandalized and ruined. Jackson rubs them on the cloth of your dress, uncaring.

“I hate you,” you spit out, venom lacing your words.

He looks thoroughly amused as he releases his weeping cock from his underwear. “No you don’t. You’re just ashamed of yourself. But fear not–” he wipes a tear off your face, “--when we’re done here, you’ll be glad for this. Just remember, baby, that I’m on your side.”

#jackson rippner x you #jackson rippner #jackson rippner x reader #jackson ripnner smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #red eye #red eye fanfic #dark smut #smut

321 notes · View notes

evanpeterswhoresblog · 1 year

Text

Old Friends

Max Cooperman x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral female receiving, soft!dom max, sub!reader, underage drinking, underage smoking, getting high before sex, rough sex, uhhh overall very long and very smutty

summary: after being away at college for a year, your best friend Baja convinces you to go to a fourth of July party at your old friend Max’s house, but little do you know how much Max has changed since the last time you saw him…

word count: 4.5k

a/n: i just watched never back down 1 and 2 last night and omg the glow up evan had before filming the second one is not talked about enough. hope you enjoy my lil fourth of july gift <3 enjoy!!

~~~

“Do you think this looks good?” You ask as you walk out of the bathroom.

You’re at your best friend Baja’s house, the two of you are getting ready for a big fourth of July party. So far, you’ve tried on three different bikinis, none of them standing out to you. Sure, they fit you perfectly and show off the body you worked for, but they just weren’t right.

“Y/N, it looks amazing, like all the other ones too. What’s going on?” Baja answers, a frown on her face.

You met Baja when she transferred into your high school sophomore year, and you’ve been inseparable since. You were by her side through everything. The day her parents decided to call it quits, the day her parents got back together, even the day she started dating Ryan. You never liked him, she knew that. He was crazy, he loved to hurt people. So, when Jake Tyler moved to town and started talking to her, you were thrilled.

He was a decent guy, you enjoyed spending time with him. Plus, it was great seeing her happy again after what Ryan put her through. After they started dating Jake introduced you to his best friend Max and he often hung around with the three of you. Max was a sweet boy. He was chubby and adorable with his little camera. Though the two of you never hung out alone, you still considered him one of your closer friends.

The four of you were sad when high school ended. You had gotten into your dream college that happened to be in a nearby state. It was terrible having to say goodbye to your friends, but you all had phones so it wasn’t like contact would be completely lost. You and Baja would call for hours, sometimes falling asleep on the phone together. On holiday breaks when you’d come home you really only saw her and occasionally Jake, but you didn’t mind.

Tonight, however, is the first party you’re going to in your home town since high school. Since it’s your first summer break from college, Baja thinks it will be a good idea. You know she’s right, but you’re very nervous to see all your old classmates.

“What if people think I’ve gone downhill since we graduated?” You question your friend.

Baja laughs. “I can promise you no one will think that. Look at yourself y/n, you’re stunning.”

“I’m just worried it’ll go bad. I haven’t seen these people in over a year,” you reply with a sigh. You sit down next to her on her bed. “How many people do you think will be there?”

“Well like I said it’s at Max’s house, and his house is pretty big so probably a lot of people.”

“God, I haven’t even seen Max since last summer. How’s he doing?” You ask.

“Well, he’s changed a lot,” she answers with a small laugh. “Trust me when you see him, you’re going to be shocked.”

“What do you mean? Did he finally get taller or something?”

“Yeah, you could say that... But anyways, hurry up and finish picking your outfit we have to leave soon,” she replies, shooing you off the bed and towards her closet.

~~~

When the two of you arrive at Max’s house you feel the anxious butterflies eat away in your stomach. There’s already so many cars in the driveway and on the street. You see a few of your former classmates in the front yard, you hide your face. Baja laughs and finally parks the car. You look at her anxiously.

“Maybe this was a bad idea, how about we just go stay at your place instead?” You speak.

She shakes her head. “Nope, we’re already here. Just relax y/n, it’s going to be super fun.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to go fuck your boyfriend,” you reply with a frown.

“Hey, maybe you’ll find a guy and hook up too,” she says, a smirk on her face. “I bet tons of guys are gonna be all over you looking for a piece of that ass.”

You lightly slap her and groan. “Shut up.”

She only laughs and opens her door. “Come on, we’re already late.”

You groan and open yours too, preparing yourself for what’s coming. You follow Baja into the party, smiling at your old classmates. You recognize most of them, but there’s also new people you don’t think even went to school with you. Loud music flows throughout the house, you can practically feel the beat as you walk. Baja was right, in the few minutes you’ve been inside you’ve already noticed multiple guys checking you out. It makes you wish you worse something more than just jean shorts and a coverup over your bathing suit.

The two of you stop in the kitchen and Baja pours you a shot. You take it without saying anything, it’ll help you with your nerves. The familiar warmth fills your stomach and chest, it feels good. You see Jake approching and you smile, it’s been a few months since the last time you talked. He looks the exact same.

“What’s up y/n? How you been?” He asks after greeting Baja with a kiss.

“Pretty good, how about you?” You reply.

“Amazing.”

“That’s cool, Baja said you were thinking about opening up your own gym soon, that’s great,” you mention, looking back at your best friend.

“I see word travels fast between the two of you,” he says, wrapping his arm around Baja’s shoulders. “But yeah, it’s just an idea right now. It was more Max’s idea actually, have you talked to him yet?”

You shake your head and notice the look Baja and Jake give each other. “I told her she’s gonna be surprised when she sees him.”

“Oh yeah, you should actually go find him and say hi,” Jake says with a smirk.

You look between them suspiciously. “Is this your subtle attempt to get me away so you can go fuck?”

“Yes, entirely, so go,” Baja answers with a laugh, pushing you lightly.

“I hate you,” you say as you begin to walk away from them.

“Love you too!” She exclaims, you don’t bother replying.

You wander through the house searching for Max. You forgot how big his house really was. Even the first floor will probably take you twenty minutes to search. A sigh leaves your lips, where would he be? You look through his living room, cringing at the sight of two girls making out on the couch, a swarm of guys watching and recording. He’s not there, thankfully. You go out to the back yard, so many people are in the pool. But that’s when you spot him.

Baja was right, you’re very surprised. He’s not at all like you remember him. The chubby nerd you once knew is gone and has been replaced by... this. He’s definitely grown a few inches, and his baby fat has been replaced by muscle. The boy who used to refuse taking off his shirt even at the beach is now standing tall, abs out for everyone to see. His hair is shorter and slightly curlier. You can see his sharp jawline from where you’re standing, it’s so prominent. You trail your eyes down his body, lingering on his v-line. You never thought in a million years you’d see Max Cooperman with a v-line and happy trail. You also never thought you’d stare at it so intently.

You shake the thoughts away and walk towards him. He’s still the same Max you knew, you can’t be thinking like this. You’re only a few feet away when he notices you, you can see his eyes light up. It makes you smile.

“Am I dreaming or is it really you y/n?” He asks.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you reply with a laugh as you embrace him in a short hug. “What did college do to you?”

“A lot honestly. I started working out a lot more, lost my fat and replaced it with these guns,” he answers, flexing his biceps.

You laugh again. “At least it hasn’t changed your personality, you still staying behind the scenes?”

“Yeah, I’m always going to be the camera man. How about you though? I bet you’re the most talked about girl on your campus,” he says with a smirk. “I mean seriously wow you look great.”

You can’t help the small blush that appears on your cheeks. “I wouldn’t know, I sorta keep to myself. I mean I go to parties sometimes but most of my time is spent keeping up with my classes.”

“I’m glad college hasn’t changed your personality either. Still the quiet girl during the week days and the party animal on weekends?”

“God no. I was way worse back then. I haven’t gotten shit faced since that party at Baja’s a year or two ago,” you answer.

“I remember that, you threw up all over the backseats of my car,” he laughs.

You cover your face in embarrassment. “Don’t remind me.”

“And remember how I had to carry you in? You were telling me how sad you were to still be a virgin, you asked if Jean from my old gym could do you,” he continues, his laughter only getting louder.

“Stop it,” you say. Your face is so hot, you probably look like a tomato.

Max is about to continue, but a girl comes up to him and laches on to his arm. You don’t know why it makes that unsettling feeling start in your stomach again. You aren’t jealous, he’s like your brother for God’s sake. At least, that’s what you keep having to tell yourself. She gives you a side glance, as if she’s trying to make you feel bad for talking to Max. It almost makes you laugh. She looks familiar, but you can’t put a name to her face.

“You said you’d come swim with me,” she says to him. “Come on.”

Max raises his eyebrows at you before looking back at the girl. “Sorry, just catching up with an old friend. You remember y/n right? We used to go to school together.”

She looks at you again and gasps. “Little y/n? I couldn’t even recognize you, you’ve certainly... changed.”

“Thanks,” you reply. You don’t want to stand here any longer. “I’ll let you guys get back to your swimming, it was nice talking to you Max.”

You give them a smile and turn around, you’re going to try to find Baja and Jake again, hopefully they’re done fucking by now. But before you can even take a step Max grabs your wrist, preventing you from leaving. You look back at him over your shoulder, the girl next to him looks pissed, he doesn’t seem to care though because his eyes are locked on you.

“How about after this we go hot box my car? You know, like we used to?’ He suggests.

“I’d love to,” you say. The girl looks furious, it makes you happy. “See you in a bit.”

He grins and let's go of your wrist, finally giving his attention back to the girl on his arm. You walk back towards his house, your hearts racing. Since when did Max Cooperman make your heart race? You look over your shoulder again when you’re at his back doors and much to your surprise he’s already looking at you. You quickly look away, what’s going on?

~~~

Max finds you after about a half hour and the two of you make your way into his garage, weed in hand. Thankfully, no one’s in the garage. Even though it’s not your weed, you’d hate to have to share with a bunch of other people. He unlocks his car and opens the passenger side for you, you chuckle and push him away but get inside anyway. He quickly gets in the driver's side and starts to unpack all his stuff.

You watch as he packs the bowl effortlessly. He used to struggle with it to the point that he’d ask you or Jake to do it for him. Now though, he gets it done within minutes. He offers you the first hit and you gladly accept, taking the bowl and lighter in your hands instantly. You light it and take a big hit, passing the bowl to Max while it’s still lit. Your lungs burn a bit, but you don’t mind. You blow the smoke out in one long breath, filling up the car with the stench of weed.

“That’s some good shit,” you say as Max takes his hit.

He nods and hands the bowl back to you when he’s done. “Stole it from my dad, he’s gets it from some high end dealer.”

“No shit?” You say before taking your second hit.

“Yeah, it’s great.”

You blow out the smoke for a second time and hand the bowl back to him. “I already feel it, God damn.”

“It’s pretty strong, you should wait before taking another hit. Unless it’s a small one. I’d hate for you to throw up in my car again,” he replies. You scoff and push his shoulder, making him break out into laughter. You can’t help but join in.

You feel fantastic. Perfect even. You let your head fall back against the headrest, your whole body feeling lighter. You close your eyes, a big smile on your lips. Max starts to talk again, but you don’t bother listening. You're too caught up in this amazing feeling. He taps your shoulder after a few seconds though and you sigh, tingles shooting throughout your whole body at the simple contact.

“Y/N are you listening?” He asks.

You roll your head to the side so you’re looking at him. “Touch me again, it feels so good.”

“What?”

“My body... it feels like it needs to be touched. Did you give me like Viagra weed?” You question.

“I don’t know does sativa usually make you horny?” He laughs.

You shrug. “Maybe. I haven’t smoked in a minute. Can you put on the radio or something?”

He nods and puts his keys in the ignition, turning them so the radio starts to play. You sit up and start to flick through the channels before settling on a relaxing song. You sigh and lean back, your head facing Max again. You watch as he takes another hit, he looks sexy doing it. You shake your head at the thought, Max is one of your best friends you can’t call him sexy, even if it’s in your own head.

When he’s done, he puts the bowl down and leans back. He turns his head to you and your eyes meet. Your heart rate increases. He has this look in his eyes, one you never thought you’d see from him. His eyes are so dark, so full of lust. You swallow but can’t bear to break the eye contact.

“Who was that girl?” You ask, breaking the silence but not the tension. “She your girlfriend or something?”

“No, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize her. That was Jenifer, you know, the one who used to make fun of me,” he answers.

“So, why was she hanging on to you like that?”

He smirks. “What are you jealous?”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you reply, deflecting his question.

“And that doesn’t answer mine.”

You look away for a split second and shrug. “Should I be?”

“I’d like you to be. But she’s nothing, just one of the many girls from this town who’ve suddenly become interested in me after I decided to change up my looks,” he answers.

You feel ashamed. Are you one of those girls now? You can admit, if Max still looked how he did before you don’t know if you’d be having these feelings for him. Part of you believes you would though, just because of how flirty he is, he’s been like that since the two of you met all those years ago. You look down at your lap, not knowing what else to do.

“Did I say something wrong?” He asks after a few seconds.

You shake your head. “No, of course not. I just... I don’t want you to think I’m one of those girls too. I mean am I really attracted to you now? Yes. But I’ve always been attracted to your personality too. I’m sorry, you just are so fucking hot now it’s hard but-”

You’re cut off by Max’s lips crashing on to yours. You forget about what you were saying and kiss him back instantly, your hands moving up to grip his soft curls. The kiss is rough and full of pent-up sexual tension. You part your lips and let his tongue roam your mouth, it makes your body ignite. One of his hands moves down your body, eventually resting on your hip. The other one cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin gently.

He pulls back after a minute and the two of you stare into each other's eyes once again. Your breathing is heavy, your cheeks are flushed, and your lips are swollen. You haven’t been kissed like that in a long time.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked first, but I just needed to show you that you aren’t anything like those other girls. I’ve always wanted you y/n, I just never thought I had a chance,” he explains softly.

You twirl one of his curls around one of your pointer fingers and chuckle. “Oh Max, if you asked me out I most likely would’ve said yes.”

“I didn’t want to ruin the friendship, but at this point since we don’t even talk that much I don’t care. I want you y/n, so bad. Even if it’s just for tonight, even if we never talk again after, let me have you right now,” he whispers.

“I’m yours for the taking,” you reply and before you have a second to think he crashes his lips to yours again.

The kiss is even rougher this time. His hands roam your body freely, cupping your breasts, your ass, everything. You let him pull you over the center console and into his lap, though the two of you laugh at the slight struggle. It’s a tight squeeze, but it works. You straddle him as the kiss continues, his hips grinding up into yours. You slightly moan at the feeling of his bulge brushing against your clothed clit. Your arms wrap around his neck and you hold him tight, the feeling of your bodies against each other sending tingles throughout your entire body.

You break the kiss after a couple minutes to remove your coverup, your bikini now the only thing covering your breasts. Max smirks and lifts his hands up to the back of your neck, pulling the string that’s holding up your bikini until it comes undone. He does the same with the other string and throws your bikini on to the passenger seat. He doesn’t try to hide his stare; it makes your face heat up again.

Before you can say anything, he leans forward and takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You sigh from the pleasure it gives you. Your body falls back against the steering wheel, luckily not hitting the horn. You feel his tongue swirl around your nipple, it makes you throw your head back. He moves between both of your nipples for a few minutes before moving on to kiss and suck the rest of your breasts.

“Can we move to the back?” He asks suddenly, his lips still on your skin.

“Yeah,” you answer breathlessly before climbing off him and between the two front seats to get to the back.

He’s too big to climb through, so he gets out of the car and goes through one of the back doors instead. He lays you down on the seats and continues his kisses on your breasts. He trails his kisses down your stomach, your navel, until he’s at the point where your skin ends and your jean shorts start. Your eyes meet his and he gives you a smirk that sends warmth to the pit of your stomach. He unbuttons your shorts and you lift your hips to help him pull them down your body, leaving you only in your bikini bottoms.

He presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, making the wet spot in your bottoms even more noticeable. You move up so half your back is pressed against the car door, mostly to give Max more room, but also because you want to watch him. He sucks on the skin of your thighs, leaving behind a few hickeys as proof. His hands wrap around your thighs as well and he pulls them up so that your legs are bent and his head is now stuck between them.

His hands then move to the two strings on your hips that are holding your bathing suit bottoms in place. He pulls them at the same time until they both come undone, then he takes off your body, leaving you completely naked. His eyes are on yours as he moves his head down and finally connects his mouth to your soaking cunt.

You moan, your head hitting the car door as you throw it back. He licks and sucks your clit perfectly; he’s definitely done this before. When he moves his tongue down to your entrance, teasingly moving it in and out, his nose brushes your clit. Your thighs squeeze around his head, you lift your hips for more pressure. It feels so good, too good. Only five minutes go by and you can feel your orgasm approaching, you pull at his hair.

“Max- you should stop before I- before I cum,” you say, your breath ragged.

“Don’t you want to?” He asks after lifting his head.

“I want this to last longer, I don’t want it to be over yet,” you answer.

He smiles. “Who said it would be over after you cum once?”

Before you can reply he moves his head back down and continues his precious licks. You come undone within three minutes. He doesn’t stop, even as you cum. Your orgasm takes over your whole body, it makes you feel euphoric.

When he’s sure you're finished, he wipes his mouth on your thigh and moves back so he’s sitting on one of the seats. He removes his bathing suit before grabbing your ankles and pulling your body so you’re laid down on the seats. He climbs over you and meets your eyes for the hundredth time tonight.

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it okay if I cum in you or do you still want me to pull out?”

Your stomach does a flip at his words. He’s the first guy to ask that after finding out you’re on the pill. You’ve never adored anyone more than him in this moment.

“You can do it inside,” you reply.

Max nods before pressing his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, it only makes you more turned on. You wrap your arms around his back, holding him close to you as he starts to rub his dick between your soaked folds. You bite down on your lips as his tip rubs against your clit, it feels incredible. But you want him inside you more. He must know this, because he positions himself at your entrance after a few seconds and starts to slowly move inside you.

He starts off with slow thrusts, helping you adjust to his size. Even with his slow pace you can’t help but bite down on his shoulder, the feeling of him inside you making your toes curl. Once you give him the okay, he starts to move faster, and after minutes he’s fucking you hard. You’re a moaning mess, your nails scratching down his back as he pounds into you harshly. Each thrust makes your eyes practically roll back into your skull, they’re so hard, so deep.

The air inside the car is warm, the windows fogged up. You know if anyone were to walk into the garage, they’d see it shaking. You almost scream when he starts to suck your neck, he finds your sweet spot quickly and settles on it. You touch his now sweaty curls and close your eyes, this is the best sex you’ve ever had, you don’t want it to ever end.

“Baby, I want you to ride me till I cum,” he whispers, his hot breath on your ear. “Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

He moves your position so that he’s sitting and you're straddling him, like you did in the front seat. You don’t waste a second to begin moving up, down, back, and forth on his dick, riding him the way you know guys like it. You watch his head fall back on the seat, your name leaving his lips in a voice that almost makes you cum right then and there. His hands grip your ass tight; you love the way it stings.

You kiss his lips, his jaw, his neck, each sound that leaves him a reward. Your second orgasm is approaching, you feel the tightening in your stomach. You hold back though; you want to feel him finish before you. Thankfully, your silent request comes sooner than you thought.

“Just like that, don’t stop, I’m gonna cum,” he mumbles. His eyes are closed and his head is still resting on the seat, you swear he’s the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. “I’m so close- so fucking close.”

“Cum in me baby,” you say, and he does.

The feeling of his dick pulsing inside you is the last thing you can take, you let your orgasm take over too, the both of you cumming at the same time. You’re out of breath but you keep riding him until you’re positive he’s completely done. Once he is, you get off him and fall back on to the seat next to him. You’re sweaty and tired. You open the door next to you and breathe in the fresh air, it’s refreshing.

“Now two of your fluids have been on my backseat, that’s cool right?” Max says to break the silence.

You laugh. “Can you shut the fuck up?”

“Can I not be happy that your vomit and your cum has been where we’re sitting?”

“Please stop before more of my vomit is on your seats.”

“We should go swim, the fireworks are gonna start soon,” he mentions. You look at him and see he’s already redressing. He meets your eyes and pauses. “Unless you want to stay here which is fine too.”

“No, no, I want to go I just need a second, that was a workout,” you reply.

He grins and hands you back your clothing items, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Whatever you want y/n.”

~~~

The two of you are in the pool when Baja and Jake finally find you.

“So, you guys are acquainted again?” Baja asks as she lowers herself into the pool.

You and Max share a look before you answer her. “Yeah, you can say that.”

1K notes · View notes

simplyholl · 3 months

Text

Fireworks

Summary: Loki uses an illusion while you have fun during a fireworks show.

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

See My Masterlist Here

“We can’t, not here.” You protest, trying to talk some sense into your fuck buddy, Loki. “No one will miss us.” He tempts you, raising a suggestive eyebrow. You can’t resist him, it was like trying to hold your breath. Eventually you would give in, needing him more than you ever thought possible.

The Fourth of July was usually reserved for barbecues and pool days, but this year Tony wanted to throw a lavish dinner party to impress some higher ups who still had their doubts about the Avengers. So here you were, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes wearing stuffy suits and elegant gowns eating prime rib and lobster instead of wearing swimsuits and stuffing your faces with hotdogs.

You all had been warned to be on your best behavior, especially Loki and Thor whose Asgardian liquor often times made them and everyone they shared it with bad decision makers. You wished you could blame the alcohol when you took Loki’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dining hall while everyone started to gather outside for fireworks. But you didn’t drink anything except for water. You didn’t have an excuse, momentarily dickmatized, you went willingly.

“Nope. Not tonight, get your asses back here right now.” Tony stops you, pointing to the wrap around porch the others were gathering on. You sigh, giving your best puppy dog eyes to him, hoping it would work. If anyone understood the importance of getting off, it was Tony.

“Don’t give me that look. If we didn’t have the very people who could shut us down in attendance, I would even cover for you. But we have to make it seem like we are the best people they know.” Tony explains, adjusting the collar on his dress shirt nervously.

Loki turns, following him out, never letting go of your hand. Once Tony does a headcount, Loki brings you to the darkest corner of the porch. A flash of green passes by so quickly, you’re sure you imagined it. But this is Loki, and he was always up to something.

“What are you doing?” You whisper so no one can hear you. One of the old men look in your direction, you fake a smile and wave at him until he takes his attention off you. In the distance Mr. USA himself, Steve Rogers sets off the first firework. An explosion of red lighting up the sky.

“Do you trust me?” Loki whispers in your ear. “Yes, but now’s not the time to live up to your namesake, Mischief.” You answer, eyes narrowing suspiciously. You would both be in big trouble, possibly kicked off the team if you did anything to portray the Avengers in a negative way tonight. “To everyone else, it looks like we are enjoying the fireworks. They can’t see what we are really doing.”

He leans down to gently kiss your shoulder, long fingers sliding your dress straps down your arms exposing your breasts. You gasp, trying to cover yourself. The nosy old man from earlier looks over at you, but doesn’t notice your uncovered body. He looks away as another firework illuminates the darkness.

“I would never let them look at you like this.” He purrs. His rich voice washing away any doubt you had. He nuzzles his head to your chest, his fingers lightly pinching your nipples. You moan, and Natasha turns, looking at you questioningly. “They can’t see what we are doing, darling, but they can hear us.”

“Loki, we have to stop.” He instantly goes still. “What’s wrong?” You rub his cheek to reassure him. “I can’t be quiet. They will hear us.” You can see the gears turning in his head, his eyes lighting up when he gets an idea.

Loki drops to his knees, large hands sliding up your thighs until he reaches your panties. He works them down your legs as you watch in anticipation. He wads them up, his obscenely big hand covering them completely as he brings them to your face. His thumb taps your bottom lip, beckoning it open. When your mouth forms an O, Loki places your panties inside. “There that should muffle any sound you make.”

You watch in disbelief, turned on by his antics. You feel the unmistakable warmth of your arousal drip down your thighs. Loki lifts your gown, settling on his knees once again. He places your leg over his shoulder, your fingers tangle in his curls as he dives in.

His talented tongue swirls your clit before dipping inside you. He thrusts his tongue, while the tip of his nose rubs against your most sensitive part. You shudder, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

Loki takes your clit between his lips, sucking gently as his tongue flicks in unison. Your legs tremble as his soft licks grow firmer. You groan, your panties keeping the sound from reaching the ears of the others. But Loki hears it, he loves that you will do anything for him.

You’re typically a rule follower, always early for your appointments, avoiding trouble at any cost. Until he showed up, he turned your world upside down. You would never consider letting someone eat you out in front of company, depending on him to use his magic to conceal you. You would never trust anyone else like him. He supposed that was what he liked the most. You trust him completely.

He strokes you with his velvet tongue once more, adding two fingers. The intrusion sends you spiraling. Fireworks exploding behind your closed eyelids mirroring what was happening around you. You bite down on your panties, fighting every primal urge to scream Loki’s name.

Loki turns you around, pressing you against the building. He quickly slides his pants down, reaching below to gather your dress, bunching it up on your side. His large hands run along the curve of your backside, giving it a squeeze. He parts your legs with his own, positioning himself.

He bottoms out in one thrust, you moan loudly, praying the panties will do their intended job. You always feel so full, so complete when you have sex with Loki. No one could ever compare. He slides his hand between you, thumb working your clit as you clench around him.

The sounds of skin slapping against each other is unmistakable. You can’t be bothered to worry about it when he rearranges your guts like this. You’ll feel it all night and tomorrow. You always do. Your side will ache, too sore to bend over. It was a delicious reminder of him.

The finale of the fireworks coincided with your orgasm. You were thankful for the noise of the pyrotechnics. Every drag of his cock made you scream as you came around him. He was close behind, spilling inside you as your visitors clapped when the show was over.

Loki turns you around, retrieving your panties from your mouth and using them to wipe away the mess he made of you. He kisses your shoulder before pulling your dress straps back where they belong. You extend your hand reaching for your panties, but he shakes his head placing them in his pocket instead.

Another flicker of green surrounds you, dropping the illusion. Loki motions to your hair, letting you know you have more than a few tresses out of place. You’re smoothing your hair down as Natasha comes over, a knowing smirk on her full lips. “It sounded like you two were doing more clapping than our visitors over there.” She says, laughing as she walks away.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15 @jiyascepter @daddieslut1 @macnbriee @sammichdog

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x yn #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x reader smut #loki x yn smut #loki (marvel)#loki fanfiction #loki tom hiddleston #loki marvel #marvel loki #mcu loki #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #fireworks

388 notes · View notes

bluesidez · 3 months

Text

GymRat!Miguel Part 10

content warning: “vague” descriptions of American colleges (iykyk), Winston [Earth-928/ Earth-TRN590] is here with a cool prosthetic arm (he originally has three! so I thought it would be cool to incorporate his robot arm back somehow), suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE (although you shouldn’t be looking at this series at all 😒), Miguel is the baby of his friend group, if the Spanish here is wrong please lmk!

word count: 3.8k, proofread so there should be no mistakes (something short and sweet!)

In case you missed it, you can find GR!Miguel’s full SFW + NSFW Alphabet here!

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who has become one with his room. The bed is comfortable, the AC is just right, and more importantly, he can hide here in solitude.

His parents decided to host Gabriel’s graduation party, Gabriel’s college acceptance party, and a Fourth of July party all at once. It was nonstop trips to Sam’s, Party City, and the grocery store.

Gabriel got a full ride to a prestigious art school up north and his parents were using every second of the summer to make time for him.

They didn’t do nearly as much for him when he graduated and got a full ride. Although, Miguel guesses the shiny Range Rover from Tyler parked outside was enough to soothe the old wounds trying to reopen. Plus, Gabriel really deserved it. The chances of getting in were low, but Miguel helped every step of the way and now a bright future in the Big Apple was calling his name.

Still, if his dad called him to cut the grass or season another pack of meat, he might lose it.

GymRat!Miguel who was glad to see you were still enjoying your summer. He was probably the first to watch your stories, like your pictures, and even comment on your little notes.

He hoped it came off as endearing and dedicated because sometimes he worried it was annoying and clingy. He couldn’t help it, though. You’re always on his mind nowadays.

Today you had posted clips of you and your friends at a Boba shop. He could hear your laughter as you zoomed in one of your friends fighting for their life after sucking up a boba ball.

He smiled to himself as he played the video a few more times just to hear you.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to play a Gacha game on his phone to distract his wandering mind.

There was a character he wanted and he wasn’t stopping until he got her.

GymRat!Miguel who three domains, a farming session, several 10-pulls, and a lucky spot later did not get the character he wanted. He was heartbroken, shattered, and inconsolable.

He groaned and flipped over to the wall, choosing a few colorful words to complain.

GymRat!Miguel who’s half-asleep state is interrupted by Gabriel doing their special knock and poking his head inside.

“Whatdoyouwant,” Miguel pushed his face further in his pillow in hopes that it would make him disappear.

“Broski, your friends are here,” Gabriel sang as if he were a white suburban mom with too much time on her hands. “And they bombarded my TikTok stream so if you could please retrieve them, that would be nice.”

Miguel poked his head up, “Are you rating people’s talents again?”

“Even better. I’m being an NPC and making bank!”

“Why don’t you ever play the saxophone or something?”

“Because that’s not what the people want me to do, Miguel. The people want to see me go ‘Lick a lil sum!’ over and over again. They eat it up.”

Miguel squinted at the bright light coming from the hallway, “In a pickle suit?”

Gabriel looked down as much as he could with his constricted movement, only his appendages sticking out of the holes, and looked back to Miguel with gritted teeth.

“If you would have put your Nightwing costume back on, I could have been Robin and we could have made money together. But it seems that you hate me.”

GymRat!Miguel who watches Tempest push the door open further and shuffle around a seething Gabriel.

“I still don’t know why you’re dressed like a Spongebob character,” she laughs at his green tights.

“I’m not Kevin! Stop saying that. There’s no glasses. There’s no crown. There’s no pants!”

Lyla poked her head around him.

“‘Lewser.’”

Gabriel yelled and turned around, waddling back to his room, “I’m not letting the Geek Squad bully me!”

“You say that like you’re not one of us!” Winston shouted after him, shells and beads in his hair clanking together.

“One of us, one of us, ONE OF US!” the trio started to chant at Miguel’s door.

Gabriel just let out incoherent noses until he was able to shut his door.

GymRat!Miguel who feels like hissing when Tempest opens his blinds.

“Please, no more!” he whined into the pillow.

“What’s with you two today? So snappy,” she mumbles.

Winston stood by the door with his hands on his hips, “Have you been in here all day?”

Miguel sits up, “No.”

“You look like it,” Lyla snickers, kicking a bag out of the way.

“We haven’t seen you in like, forever, and you’re acting like you don’t really care,” Tempest pulls up her long, ruffled skirt to plop on the bed next to Miguel. “Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Did someone die?” Winston pulls out Miguel’s gaming chair to take a seat.

“No.”

“Wait!” Lyla’s voice makes everyone jump. “You failed your class for the first time and now your life is ruined.”

“What? No, never.”

GymRat!Miguel who perks up at the sound of the text tone he picked just for you.

“Look!”

“I just found this picture of us”

“We’re working hard 🫡”

“I’m putting in overtime”

“There’s no PTO”

“Only work”

“We get paid in kisses”

“Only kisses?”

“Everything else is a bonus check for being the perfect employee”

"Aka my girlfriend"

“And what does that bonus check look like?”

“Hmmm”

“She looks divine”

“She tastes really sweet too”

“Inside and out”

“What does your bonus check look like?”

“He’s big and hot 😌”

“He looks really nice when I love on him”

“He feels really good”

“Be very lucky you’re not near me rn”

“What?”

“I’m just describing my elite employee!”

“Aka my bf”

“I feel really good?”

“Yeah!”

“You’re my teddy bear”

“….and you also feel good in other places that I won’t be spelling out”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t feel Tempest leaning over his shoulder until her voice snaps him back to reality.

“No fucking way you got a girlfriend and didn’t tell anybody.”

She snatches the phone from his hands.

“Temp, give it back!”

“And you’re getting freaky with her while we’re right here!”

“No, I’m not-”

“It says right here ‘she tastes really sweet, inside and out.’ It’s in 4K!” Tempest shoved the phone in Winston’s face who gets the derpiest smile.

“My man!” he reaches his hand out to Miguel to dap him up, ending it in the handshake that only the two of them know. “You finally got a girl and you putting in that work. Let’s. Fucking. Go.”

“At least someone is on my side.”

“I never said I wasn’t on your side. I’m just stuck on the fact that you didn’t tell anyone. No texts, no socials. Just tumbleweed in that big ass head of yours,” Tempest pushed a duck nail against Miguel’s temple. “Like you could have died, and we would have never known.”

“I’m sorry, Temp, it’s been a hectic year.”

“And now it’s summer. We’ve got nothing but time,” she grabbed a pillow to place in her lap. “So get to talking Migster.”

“Yeah, while I can understand waiting to tell us about your girl, this is like, what, the second strike for you? First, no yacht and now this? Aggy,” Winston shook his head.

“All three of you had plans! I checked!”

“And it’s looking like you’ve been with her for almost a year. Wow,” Lyla said from a bean bag on the floor.

Miguel reaches to snatch it from her, teeth gritted in a way that mimicked his brother.

“I never knew you could get so romantic! Maybe scratch the arcade idea off, though. You get way too competitive.”

Tempest hit Miguel with her pillow, “An entire year?”

“Cold-blooded. I should smack you next,” Winston struck his metal arm back like he was getting ready to swing.

Miguel held his hands up, “I’ll finally let you teach me how to play Halo!”

Winston sat back, “2k too, and all is forgiven.”

“Halo and one round of 2k.”

“Deal,” Winston shook Miguel’s hand. “You’ll be hooked once you get the hang of it.”

“God, I hope not,” Lyla mumbled.

“Says the one who yells at children on Roblox,” Winston bit back.

“You don’t hear what those heathens say, I do!”

GymRat!Miguel who is forced to make a short PowerPoint about his past year while his friends help Miguel’s parents set up even more.

“I want a Final-worthy presentation by the time we get back! I even showed you where to get the cute templates,” Tempest fusses from the door before she closes it.

GymRat!Miguel who calls you while they’re gone.

“I mean, if it were me who just found out that my closest friend told me essentially nothing about their partner for that long, I’d be pretty upset too.”

Miguel groans as he leans back in his chair, “That is pretty fucked, isn’t it?”

“But, because I was with you most of the school year, I know that you were just preoccupied with other things. Figuring out college, checking off a lot of adult firsts, making new friends, dealing with family, totally scrambling your way through getting your first girlfriend.”

“Hey…”

You laugh at his annoyed expression and snap a picture, “I’m sure if you just explain things to them, they’ll understand.”

“I hope so. I already promised Winston a game of 2k.”

You scrunched your nose in the cute way that Miguel adored, “I’ll take a gamer, nerdy boyfriend any day. Might draw the line at 2k, I fear.”

“My face doesn’t cancel out the bad connotation?”

“Depends. Will you cancel on me in place of playing with your friends?”

Miguel’s eyes looked to you on his laptop with a frown on his face, “Never. I don’t think I’d do that for anything that can be rescheduled. Did he do that?”

Miguel didn’t want to say his name because it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“More than I’d like to admit, yes.”

“If I ever see him, I might punch him.”

“Miguel.”

“I’m so serious. There hasn’t been one good quality about him yet.”

Only the fact that he was a good stepping stone to get to Miguel, not that he would ever say that out loud.

“He was…nice when I met him.”

“Just nice?”

“He had a cute face!”

Miguel’s frown deepened, “I don’t want to talk about him anymore, actually.”

GymRat!Miguel who finished his PowerPoint with the help of you.

Honestly, you just had to sit pretty in the corner of his monitor.

GymRat!Miguel who was ready to present once his friends got back, each of them sporting a Fanta in their hands.

“Nobody brought me one?”

Tempest made a noise of satisfaction when she took a sip, “A cold one is waiting for you when you finish, buddy.”

Miguel rolled his eyes and set up the PowerPoint.

GymRat!Miguel whose presentation is dragged even further because everyone keeps asking questions.

Section 1: New Experiences

“Only you would attract sorority girls despite the clear baby boy energy radiating off of you,” Tempest said.

“I mean, look at him,” Lyla gestured to Miguel’s body. “We still see our big baby, but that body? That’s what people notice first. We should have prepared him more.”

Miguel’s face fumed as he went to the next slide.

“And only you would make friends with the cafeteria lady. She saw the baby aura,” Tempest quipped.

“L-let’s just move on,” Miguel mumbled.

“You’re on the robotics team!! There’s our Miggy,” Lyla rounds her words like she was talking to a child.

“Guys, Miguel is going to be a tomato if you don’t stop,” Winston chides.

Section 2: Family

“I’ve been waiting on somebody to get that gremlin Kron and you finally got him,” Lyla shook her head with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry about your mom, though. She didn’t really like us too much either when we first started to hang out,” Tempest pulled her knees up to her chin.

“Mind you, I had a mean set of braces, suspenders, and high water pants when we first met,” Winston said.

“Oh my god. Remember when she thought Tempest was tricking Mig into doing her homework?”

“When all I was doing was comparing answers because Miguel was the only one who could keep up with me in that class,” Tempest snickered. “Glad me and Mrs. O’Hara moved past that because I was definitely looking out for you more than she was.”

“Remember when she thought you two were dating?” Winston asked.

Miguel groaned, “That was so fucking embarrassing.”

“You think now I read as a raging lesbian or what?”

Section 3: My Gorgeous Girlfriend Whom Which I Love

“The same guy who lectured me for 10 minutes over not jumping out of a car to hold the door for my girlfriend left his girl at a party?” Winston snickered.

Lyla played with the end of a braid in her hair, “Chivalry is dead.”

“Get all your jokes out now, because we’re going strong,” Miguel waved everyone off as he flipped to the next slide.

“Is that her?” Lyla sat up as much as she could in her sinking seat.

“Yeah,” Miguel’s smile grew at the picture of you from a coffee date on the screen.

“Look at him,” Winston pointed a finger. “He can’t even speak. He’s gone.”

“She’s hot! Nice job Miguel,” Tempest clapped with a giddy smile on her face. “You’re like, lovestruck over there.”

Miguel continued to flip through the several slides he had of you, face sinking further into his palm as he stared at you like he’s never seen you before.

“Does Xina know you have a girlfriend?”

“Woof,” Tempest and Winston said in a low voice simultaneously.

Miguel tilted his head with a confused expression, “What’s with the ‘woof’? Why are you all looking like that? And where is Xina, anyway?”

“She said her parents wanted her to go visit family, so she’s far, far away right now.”

“Did you know she’s transferring to your school?” Lyla asks.

“Why? I thought she was going to an Ivy League somewhere. It was all she talked about.”

Tempest’s eyebrows raised, “Can’t stay at an Ivy League if you fuck up your scholarship.”

"She told me that she didn't like it there," Winston looked confused.

Lyla and Tempest just stared at each other in disbelief.

“If you worked your ass off from starting a non-profit to being the school valedictorian, just to get into one school, would you just up and leave after one school year without finding better options?” Lyla deadpanned.

“Hey, we don’t know what happened. Maybe she really didn’t like it there, guys,” Miguel said.

Lyla and Tempest both gave Miguel twin looks as if telling him to get serious.

“Well, if she’s going to your school, I’m sure you’ll see her at some point. Maybe she’ll tell you,” Winston suggested.

“Yeah, Miguel. She’ll tell you anything if you ask,” Lyla folded her arms with a smile.

“What does that mean?”

“It just means,” Tempest waved her hands around. “She’s enamored by you.”

“Guys. Stop.”

“She’s not lying. Every time we hang out together, she’s always clinging to you,” Winston said.

“It’s been years and she’s never told me anything,” Miguel reached to exit the PowerPoint. What was about to be a 10 minute yap session about you was now turning into something else. “I doubt that if she felt that way, she still feels that way now.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Lyla shrugged.

Tempest nodded her head, “Good on you for being so optimistic.”

Miguel squinted his eyes, “You two are freaking me out.”

GymRat!Miguel who sat with his friend’s words once they dropped him off back home after an impromptu day of fun.

He really needed to get out of the house to reset, but he couldn’t help but to worry about Xina.

He was there when she worked herself to the bone just to even be considered for the top schools. When she got in, she was over the moon.

What could have possibly made her stop now?

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up to sound of his dad laughing and yelling outside of his window.

He dragged himself to the window to see him running around with his brothers with a nerf gun.

It would be a pretty funny sight if it wasn’t 7 in the morning.

GymRat!Miguel who goes through his morning routine of booting Gabriel up, taking his morning run, and eating a hefty breakfast.

He sends you a picture of himself right after he finished the run, sweat dripping down his neck and his skin glowing from the hot sun.

Knowing you were probably still asleep, he doesn’t expect a response until later. So when you call him immediately, he’s filled with surprise.

“Sending thirst traps at ass o’clock is crazy,” you say as soon as the call connects.

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

“So you just happened to take the perfect picture in the sun with your skin all wet?”

“Are you saying that I’m photogenic?”

You roll your eyes and Miguel laughs, happy to see you.

“Where are you going?” Miguel asks, noticing the fluffy headband you’re wearing that’s holding your hair back.

“We’re going to my aunts house and she lives about two hours away so I got up early to get ready.”

“Bebe, qué hermosa eres.” (Baby, how beautiful you are.)

You pause what you’re doing to turn and stuff your head into a plushie to scream.

“You can’t tell me that,” you say when look back to the camera, fanning your face. “I won’t stay focused.”

“But it’s true. You’re stunning.”

You groan and slide down your chair, “Miguel, please. I need to focus.”

“Ok, ok. You still look amazing.”

“Thank you,” you say, patting the back of your hands against your heated cheeks.

“I wanna kiss you.”

“I’m hanging up.”

Miguel laughs as you bring the phone to your face.

“I wanna kiss you, too,” you say before ending the call.

GymRat!Miguel who blows your phone up with teases after that.

It all shuts up once he sees your outfit of the day.

“You can’t do this to me”

“Baby????”

“This is agony”

GymRat!Miguel who is the loudest when Gabriel makes his grand entrance to the party, graduation cap snug on top of his curls. His family is popping mini confetti and string cannons while his little cousins blow bubbles.

GymRat!Miguel who catches Gabriel at any chance he was idle, snapping picture after picture like a proud parent.

GymRat!Miguel who stacks his plate high full of food to the shock of no one.

GymRat!Miguel who almost gets knocked down by Gabriel when he opens his gift of specialized sheet music. After years of hearing the songs Gabriel would blast through the house, he compiled together a music book with covers done by different artists.

"I'm going to play every single one of these for you," Gabriel says with a geeked-out smile.

"Oh boy."

GymRat!Miguel who watches Gabriel scream as their neighbor's dog runs towards the fireworks that he set on the ground.

Miguel always thought there was nothing going on behind those little eyes.

GymRat!Miguel who feels Gabriel slide next to him in the corner of their backyard. A place where the two of them used to do everything from hide-and-seek to sharing secrets to pretending to be superheroes.

Gabriel leans his on Miguel’s shoulder, eyes watching the small fireworks their cousins bought.

“Mig?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever get scared when you left home?”

Miguel was quiet for a second, “At first, I was. I was leaving what I knew, but once I got used to it, it was like a weight off my chest.”

The two sat for a minute, listening to their family sing and laugh.

“I’m really fucking nervous.”

“About leaving?”

“About everything,” Gabriel took a shaky breath. “I’ll be so far away. I won’t know anyone. And you…”

Miguel’s sleeve was wet.

“You won’t be there if I need you.”

Miguel turned and pull Gabriel into a hug, arms tight as he felt Gabriel cry into his shoulder.

“No tengas miedo, Gabri,” Miguel’s voice cracked as he rubbed his brother’s back. “I’ll be a call away, ok? Right there if you need me. I promise.” (Don’t be scared, Gabri.)

"Te voy a extrañar." (I'm going to miss you.)

"Yo también te voy a extrañar." (I'm going to miss you, too.)

After a while of the two calming down and making promises to continue their weekly calls, Gabriel leans up and covers his eyes with his arm.

“I told myself I’d save my tears for the move-in day, but it’s just now hitting me how much I’m going to miss seeing your stupid face.”

Miguel laughed and thumped him across the head, “And I’m going to miss hearing your stupid laugh across the hall. But what did you do when I left?”

Gabriel turned to avoid Miguel’s face, “Ma thought I was dying or something. She kept bringing random shit that I liked to my room for three weeks because ‘Te pareces a Ígor, mijo!’” (You look like Eeyore, mijo!)

Miguel bit his cheek as he ruffled Gabriel’s hair. He still saw the little baby who followed his every move. The baby that laughed hard when he read books with a funny voice. The baby that stood up for him front of their mom when he couldn’t even stand up for himself on the playground.

The kid who stayed up with him to beat some game because their dad wouldn't buy them memory cards for the PlayStation. The kid who tried food once he saw it on Miguel’s plate. The kid who refused to go to summer camps without him.

Here he was, sitting in front of Miguel, getting ready to start a new chapter.

“Oh god, Miguel don’t start crying again. It’s gonna ruin the tour,” Gabriel groaned and dug his head into his arms.

“I’m not, I’m not, I’m sorry,” Miguel hurriedly wiped his cheeks, hot tears filled with his thoughts escaping. “You’re going to kill it in New York. By the time I get there, you’ll be so used to it that it’ll be like breathing air.”

“I hope so,” he sniffles and looks back up. “I need to impress Dana.”

“And there he is,” Miguel shook his head. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to visit.”

“Yeah. I already have some places planned for dates.”

“Smooth. That’s the Miguel in you.”

“Shaddup.”

GymRat!Miguel who calls you closer to midnight.

"How was the party?"

"It was pretty good," Miguel moved to settle further into his bed. "Gabriel was happy."

Hearing the tone in his voice, you pouted, "Are you ok, though?"

"Yeah, I'm just. I'm feeling a lot."

He felt he might cry again, thinking about his little brother in a place all by himself, thinking of his parents being empty nesters, thinking of his feelings from yesterday.

"You want to talk about it?"

Miguel shook his head, "Tomorrow."

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be there."

"Thank you," Miguel smiled. "That means a lot."

GymRat!Miguel who feels better listening to you chatter until you fall asleep. His head isn't filled with so much noise and your voice is like a calm breeze.

He can't wait to see you again.

divider by: @thecutestgrotto 🩵

a/n: I was thinking of this video when I was writing Lyla talking about Kron + that smoking duck gif. I also doubt there are many nerds alive that play 2k, I just wanted Winston to play it lol. Anywho, I was going for a boho-chic vibe when I imagined Tempest (with red locs), a maximalist + art deco vibe with Lyla, and an elevated streetwear style with Winston. Winston also upgraded his prosthetic arm to mimic Link's from Tears of the Kingdom. As for Xina...we'll see! 😗

As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵

If you want to be on the taglist, sign up here! Make sure to have your age in the bio or somewhere on your blog!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

@questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @calig0sto @tatatida @haveclayeveryday

@corpsenightmarebride @earth2fae @maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstarlight82

@ladysimp @sonicbutbutter @relatednative @slowlyshycomputer @nuetralcolorsenthusiast

@maxlinpetersen @beyondstarlight @Madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog

@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhidedout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib

@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax @stressed-cherry

298 notes · View notes

evolnoomym · 2 months

Text

Bigger than the whole sky 🌌

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Pt.2🌠 | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: You meet Joel and well of course you fall for each other. It’s a bit bumpy since he’s your Dads best friend. But things seem to work out until they don’t anymore. One event changes everything.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: no use of y/n, pov switches that might be confusing, female reader, reader has hair, reader wears makeup, reader can get pale, weight loss, implied childhood abuse, trauma, angst, heavy angst(?), implied smut, alludes to pregnancy, funerals, coffins, reader has no name only a bunch of nicknames, size difference, dbf!Joel Miller, mentions of throwing up, loss of a loved one, grief, depression (?), food and eating issues are mentioned, talks of having a baby, Blood, dark thoughts, intrusive thoughts, age gap, readers age is not exactly mentioned but Joel is 44, talks of getting married….

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @almostfoxglove ‘s Angst Writing Challenge. Shoutout to her she created the moodboard, it’s sooooo beautiful. 🫶🏻

Shoutout to @thecutestgrotto and @cafekitsune for the dividers 💙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is also only my second time posting writing for a specific character. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. This not beta read btw only by my eyes and they hurt after starring at the screen for so long 🌌🫶🏻

And lastly I’ll leave some songs i listened to while writing <3

loml by Taylor Swift

Black Friday by Tom Odell

This is what the drugs are for by Gracie Abrams

I guess by Mitski

Present by Lloyd Vaan

Je te laisserai des mots by Patrick Watson

Home by Daughter

Allowed to be Happy by Gustavo Santaolalla

Song on the Beach by Arcade Fire, Owen Pallet

aisatsana [102] by Aphex Twin

Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens

Francis Forever by Mitski

A House In Nebraska by Ethel Cain

Medicine by Daughter

Youth by Daughter

I can barely say his name by Patrick Jonsson

listen before I go by Billie Eilish

You remember exactly how you met Joel Miller, it was so simple. He was the one to give your Dad a job at the construction company he led together with his younger brother Tommy. In the beginning you only heard how great of a boss he supposedly was through your Dads stories.

Joel and him seemed to have grown into real good friends in the span of mere weeks. You always had wondered what the man from his stories was like in person, up close.

When you had to drive to the construction site to bring your Dad his lunch he had forgotten due to being a bit busy that morning. It seemed like your wishes to meet Joel would become reality. You didn’t think the big boss would spend his precious time with the actual building process but as you'd figure out in the future, Joel is a hands on kinda guy.

You must’ve looked super out of place and quite lost when he approached you. His Texas drawl still echoed through your head hours later. „Well Hello Darlin, lookin for someone?“ and if that alone didn’t completely blew you away, then certainly his stunning looks. When you turned towards the voice a tall, broad and awfully handsome man looked back at you.

After an awkward beat of silence he stretched his hand out towards you “Apologies sweetheart, should’a start with the name, huh?” Tilting his head slightly “Name’s Joel, Joel Miller.” At that you let your hand slip onto his outstretched one. His hand was so huge, warm and calloused. Shaking his hand kinda calmed you down Joel Miller was absolutely lovely. “Nice to finally meet the famous Joel Miller that my Dad keeps yapping about nonstop.” You giggled while cheekily winking at him.

That must’ve been a key moment for everything that was to follow. You’d see Joel again and again. Whether due to your Dad inviting the single, 44 year old Man over or due to you having to deliver your Dad’s forgotten food.

The tension was slowly building higher and higher between you two until one day in Joel’s office you could no longer hold back.

Joel stood in his office with you by his side, in front of a pinboard containing all sorts of information about his newest project. He was animatedly explaining processes you’d never understand in a million years. You actually kind of tuned him out and just enjoyed being unbelievably close to him.

Then his face kinda looked confused. Oh no he must’ve asked you a question. Shaking your head you say “Mhhh sorry, what did you just ask?” Joel tilts his head towards you the way he always does and then states “Ya didn’t listen to a single word I just said, right Sweetcheeks?”

He always comes up with the most ridiculous nicknames that cause a vicious pull in your lower stomach. You lost count of how many conversations with him ended in drenched panties.

“I….i -of course I was listening to you, why wouldn’t I?” You stammered a bit offensively, surely he’d see right through you.

“Hm kay, so what was I talkin bout, gorgeous?” He’s teasing at this point.

“Ok I wasn’t listening but that is a lot I don’t get anyway so can you really blame me, Miller?” You fired back.

“So, whatcha thinkin bout inside of that pretty little head of yours, instead of listening to me?” You just scoff at him “Let’s not pretend you don’t know exactly what I was thinking about Joel.” Pointing one accusing finger at his broad chest. At that motion Joel enveloped your wrist in one of his massive hands, pulling you closer that way. Until you were right in front of him, only a tiny space left between your faces. “Why don’t ya tell me whatcha thinkin about Baby?”

He must know, just by seeing how your eyes keep slipping down to glance at his pillowy lips, what is going through your head. You’ve been dancing around this topic, the tension, the pull towards each other, how forbidden it is for all of this to happen. Joel is your Dads Best friend and he’s twice as old as you are but you know that if you don’t kiss him right now you’ll go insane. It’s all you think about, kissing him and then some more.

For the first time in years you actually consider letting someone get so close again. Joel would never hurt you like the ones before him did, no, he’s mature and wouldn’t play any of those stupid games. You know how kind, considerate, protective and caring he is for the ones he loves. Sure it won’t be easy to explain any of this to your Dad but you can’t think about that right now, no, you have to kiss Joel, it’s the last thought before leaning up to push your lips against his.

One chaste kiss that erupted into a full blown make out session that only got interrupted by some frantic knocks at Joel’s Office door.

From that day on those meetings became a routine, in his office, his truck, his house or sometimes he’d take you out of town for a super secret Date. The thrill of hiding with the possibility of getting caught soon turned into shame for lying to your Dad so much. You wanted to tell him even though it scared you more than anything how he might react.

Surprisingly though he didn’t completely freak out, of course he was shocked and confused how this combination came to be. More than anything he took the lying personally and made clear that as long as you are happy, so is he. If Joel was the one then so be it, besides your Dad has a lot of respect for Joel and knows you're in good hands.

After 3 months of being an official couple Joel asked if you’d be happy to move in with him. You had to think about it for a long time, feeling quite guilty about leaving your Dad behind but he reassured you that he would be fine on his own. He told you that a grown woman like you shouldn’t have to live with her boring old man anymore than you already did.

So you moved into Joel’s house. And what followed were months filled with wonderful memories. Many barbecues were held, your Dad and Joel always standing at the grill together, each nursing on their beer bottles.

Whenever you wanted to try a new recipe your Dad was invited over so you could make sure he still ate enough, the night always ending with you sending him home with a bunch of Tupperware's filled to the brim with deliciously homemade meals.

When you wanted to paint the walls in the living room a new shade your Dad came over to help.

Making sure his baby girl is happy and content was your Dads number one priority.

Then one day you went over to his house to catch up a little bit, just you two having some Dad and Daughter one on one quality time.

He was so excited when you told him that Joel and you want to have a baby.

He told you what a great mother you’d make because of how wonderful you always have been with kids and how much you always wanted to have kids of your own.

To others it might’ve been weird to share such an information with their Dad but you have such a close bond that it’s not weird at all.

You were so happy on the drive home cuz you know what great grandpa he’d make.

It must've been exactly one week later when you woke up with an indescribable feeling in your chest. As if the world spun a little slower, or the air felt more compromising…whatever it was you couldn’t stop feeling like something had happened.

Your intuition only perked up more when your Dad didn’t show up for the usual Sunday’s breakfast you recently started doing.

After 8 calls that nobody picked up you told Joel you would drive over there and as if he knew that you would need him for whatever was awaiting you there, he came with you.

The closer you got to the house the worse you felt. Hands sweaty, heartbeat racing and your stomach felt like turning over at the sight of the house. Usually he would be up by now playing his obnoxiously loud music that you’d hear on the street through the open kitchen window. Instead it was eerily quiet.

When Joel had parked the car he told you to wait for him but you couldn't. You just ran up the steps, unlocked the door with your spare key and bolted through the house as if on instinct you skipped up the steps to his bedroom. You flung the door open and there he was. Just laying on his designated side with his glasses still on and one hand on his chest across his heart. He looked like he was just sleeping but deep down you knew he was not. You can’t remember a lot, only that you immediately bolted towards the bathroom to empty your stomach out, Joel came up too and tried comforting you through the heaving. Then he tried to get you away from the scene. Joel took care of everything while you just locked up inside of yourself. No tears, no screams, no words, not a singular reaction just nothing. Joel had never seen you look so…empty.

Later on the authorities would say it’s just natural cause, he simply passed in his sleep, nothing dramatic. Not the kind of closure you would have wanted. It didn’t matter how “normal” it was, your world stopped spinning entirely. Everyone seemed to go one but you just stopped.

Suddenly without any foreshadowing everything was completely flipped on its head. You loved him so much, he was your best friend. He told you all the time how much he loved you even with all your struggles. You’d never have to prove your worth to him; he'd love you no matter what. In his eyes you were a gift, opposite to your mother that looked at you as a burden. You never felt loved by her. She took away your precious childhood and forced you to grow up quickly. So you could take care of her. Even when you told her how close to the edge you were she always made everything about herself. Out of your parents the one person that actually wanted you, died and with him so did your willingness to continue with the fight against all your inner demons.

You lost yourself after that. For weeks you just slept, barely moving, only getting up to use the toilet and perhaps eat something small and drink a bit. Joel had to shower you, otherwise you wouldn’t have done it yourself. Who you were before losing your Dad was gone, as if you died with him.

Joel tried everything in his power to make you feel better. One time he wanted to paint with you since you loved to do that, but the moment your eyes caught sight of the little paint pots you ran for the toilet to empty out your stomach. Later on he realized his mistake, you used to paint with your Dad a lot all the way back in your childhood so of course that would not make you feel better. Then he tried playing music for you either your favorite songs from your playlist or on his guitar. Nothing, you just continued to be completely catatonic.

Then the funereal came, a day Joel dreaded he was not sure you’d be able to handle it. In the morning he made your hair and applied a bit of makeup, he watched you do your little routine often enough to know what he was doing. Afterwards he dressed you in a simple black dress and equally black flats. Walking only worked since Joel kept you upright.

Sitting in the front row bench at the chapel you looked like a ghost. Pale and sunken in. You were asked to do a speech about your Dad but that would’ve been impossible. So Joel went up to do it instead. You just stared straight ahead at the coffin, not sparing a glance towards Joel.

And once everything was over, the people, mostly his colleagues, paid him their respects. When everyone was gone you stayed and just laid your head on the coffin silently sobbing, which was the most emotion Joel had seen in weeks from you. Only he was to witness this vulnerability.

Staring at the completed grave was just as daunting. His name is written in cold stone. All that’s left is this hole in the earth and a stone on top with his name.

You walked away without sparring another glance toward the grave.

Then it seemed like you were getting better. You spoke more, ate more and slept less. You even searched out body contact with Joel, though it was just some cuddling and gentle kissing. But he took it as a step in the right direction.

You almost fully returned to your old self but Joel could have not predicted how wrong he would be.

He should’ve listened to his gut that told him something was off when you didn’t kiss him goodbye before he left for work that morning.

You know how hard it will be but there’s no other choice. You have to get away, you have to leave so he can find someone better, someone who deserves a man like Joel Miller, someone less troubled, someone normal.

Those fears you have now, always were inside of you but with your Dad passing they just all came to the surface. Grief killed you, it took everything, it’s as if you're in a room with a beautiful glowing bulb and some dark entity just rips it away. You're left in the dark and not even Joel’s light can make it better.

You lost something nothing can replace.

All your life you feared what would happen if you’d lose someone like this without any way of getting closure, he died without any warning just poof and gone he was.

Your final goodbye was never said.

Now you can’t remember how he used to be, you only remember him laying in his bed without moving a damn muscle,dead. You were the one to find him and even though it was not some unsettling scene it’s not leaving your head. You try hard to remember how he spoke that sarcastic tone he usually used.

You can’t remember his face anymore, not even looking at pictures brings him back and at the same time he’s all you think about as if he’s haunting you. You hate him for leaving you so early. Why him? What kind of curse was laid upon you that everything always seems to fall apart when you think it’s finally working out.

It’s as if some higher up can sense that you are happy and content with your life and they don’t want to give you that sorta life.

The moment your brain processed what had happened you fell into the darkness like a big hole that sucked you in without any way out. Anyone around you could be another loss so what do you do? You leave, you disappear so no one gets hurt by whatever is wrong with you.

Looking at yourself hurts because it’s him you see and it’s him you hear in your head he’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Sometimes you feel like you’re hallucinating because you swear to see him round the corner, you can almost hear him call out but when you try to look there’s nothing.

Sometimes but much rarer than you’d like to admit you’ve visited the grave, sometimes you speak to no one. Sometimes you scream in agony till you almost lose consciousness from the lack of oxygen. Sometimes you just stare.

It’s a sick twist of events considering how often he walked on cemeteries with you as a child. You didn’t understand the meaning behind them back then, you only loved to admire the beautiful flower ornaments laying on top of the graves. Your dad always told you how soothing these walks seemed for you.

One time he took you and you had so much fun admiring the flowers giggling and smiling. Your dad wanted to tell you off since it’s a place where people grieved especially with a woman sitting nearby crying. He went to apologize to her on your behalf but the woman told him not to. She thought it was an uplifting sight to see little you having so much joy about the flowers, that’s a story he always kept telling you again and again.

All your life those walks soothed your frayed mind. The quiet somber energy is something no other place could compare with. Now it’s the last place you’d wanna be in. The moment you step foot on the property, the panic starts to creep up on you. The closer you get to him the worse it gets.

Sometimes the voices in your head scream to just start digging into the earth to get him out of that godforsaken coffin. Look at him, do something to bring him back. If the devil would show up to take you instead of your dad you’d do it. He was a troubled man but he tried so hard. He did not deserve any of this, he should’ve been here for all the good times yet to come.

You imagined him walking you down the aisle, having that stupid first look with him where he’d surely try so hard not to cry but looking at his baby in a wedding dress would’ve been way too much for him to stay strong. You imagined having your first dance with him.

You imagined how excited he would’ve been to hear that he was going to be a grandpa. In your head you can see him with a little baby that looks just like you. But none of this will ever happen; he's dead.

Sometimes it’s hard to even look at Joel. He's connected to him as well; he was his boss and one of his closest friends. It’s not fair you know but in your head you see Joel and your dad laughing on the porch about some old men shit like always making their awful dad jokes. Or drinking a beer together or looking to fix something around the house.

The house, Joel’s house and a place your dad spent a lot of time in. Walking through the hallways is not pleasant anymore, the couch is avoided as best as you can. He used to sit here all the time watching soccer games with Joel. The chair at the dining table he always sat on had to be removed simply seeing it made you sick and eating was already a hefty struggle since he passed.

He left a mark anywhere and all of it was getting too much. The pressure in your head becomes more and more unbearable.

Even though you tried to push all those negative festering thoughts away the voices could not be shut up no matter what you tried.

The worst was when they started to go for Joel, suddenly all you could think of was how he’d die. Joel is only 10 years your dad’s junior. So if he died then why not Joel too.

So many horrible scenarios played out inside your mind. Car accident, some freak accident on a construction site, getting attacked by multiple people, torturing him slowly, beating him to death, his head all split open, blood everywhere, or what if he gets shot by some crazy Texan who loves guns. There really was not a scenario left to imagine.

Nightmares in the most cruel ways destroying you slowly from the inside out. And that just proved how one thing can make an avalanche of events happen. He was your purpose for most of your life, you only continued to play this game called life because you could not leave him. And now he left you.

One time he told you how if it weren’t for you he’d be dead or in jail since there would be no reason to give a damn about his life. He was just like you, living for others instead of for himself. No one understood you like him. Somewhere deep inside you know he wouldn’t want you to blame yourself so much but that singular fact does nothing compared to all the ever suffocating darkness.

You’d give anything to have him back, feel his warm embrace one more time, hear him say how much he loves you, have him tell you one of his stories, have him tell you it’s going to be alright, take one more look and inhale his signature scent. You have one of his shirts doused in his favorite perfume, it’s what you used to do in all those years you lived far away from him during childhood. Now it does not help like it did back then. What remains of him? Nothing, all of his stuff shoved into a storage unit looked up, buried just like him.

You know Joel tried hard to be supportive and not push you too hard. Sometimes you wished he would’ve just screamed at you, slapped some sense into you and told you to stop being such a disgraceful mess. That’s what they would’ve done.

But Joel is not like that, he helped you so much. Putting himself so far behind. So much so that you feel sorry he has to deal with an ill girlfriend, that’s what you are, a mental wreck.

He deserves better treatment than the lackluster one you have given him in the last months. He deserves to be free of your weight dragging him down towards the abyss. Even though he told you in the beginning that he loves you with all the baggage and all the challenges, you cannot let him continue to waste his time.

Besides you’re convinced he’d leave you anyway like everyone before one way or another you end up alone. You have no control of the situation but if you leave then you have the control it still hurts but it’s the only option in your head.

The decision was made weeks ago, it felt wrong to lie to Joel to keep him thinking everything is fine only to then rip it all away but perhaps it’ll make him hate you so it’s easier. If he hates you then he will be able to move on with his life. Burn all you build together down.

And then you knew today would be the day. You couldn’t bear to kiss him in the morning; it would only make everything harder. Some time after he left you got up. One last time using the shower you both occasionally used together having foam party’s, giggling, washing each other and then kissing, touching till it leads to you with your cheek squished against the tile and Joel behind you ferociously hitting that special spot inside of you, till you both reach your high. Now you’re alone staring at that specific spot in the tiles, too much so you turn away.

One last time looking at yourself in the mirror above the sink, the mirror Joel and you both looked into while brushing your teeth. You dry your hair, put on fresh clothes, nothing too dramatic, just some simple black leggings and a black cotton shirt.

Then you start packing the most important stuff into two big suitcases. Basically only clothes, some hygiene products and a few trinkets that you don’t want to leave behind. The rest can be either sold by Joel or thrown away. You don’t care, the less holding you back the better.

Once the suitcases are packed you haul them down the stairs towards the front door. And then you just wait. For hours you sit at the dining table just staring ahead at the wall opposite where so many photos of Joel and you hang so many memories and you’ll destroy it.

You should feel bad but these days you barely feel anything, numb is what you think you feel most of the time. Maybe that’s what your ex meant when he said that you don’t own a heart, that you’re a cold blooded mean person. Someone who plays with people until they stop serving their purpose, that's what he said.

It’s almost 8pm, Joel should be home soon. You have practically studied the words you’ll say. An Uber already ordered to arrive 15 minutes after he should get home. Not much to talk about the less the easier so you can just walk away.

Then you hear it, Joel’s truck driving up the driveway and coming to a halt. How he gets out and slams the door shut behind him. His keys jiggling while he searches for the right one. Unlocking the door and closing it behind him. You don’t turn towards him although you know he must be looking at you in astonishment. He can not miss the suitcases and something about the lack of his words tells you he knows exactly what this means.

Joel cannot believe what he walked into, he knew something was off but just thought that he was starting to imagine things but here you are sitting like an empty shell of yourself and the packed suitcases can only mean one thing, he tries his hardest not to freak out that won’t make anything better.

He starts walking towards you, slowly, once he reaches the threshold of the living room he speaks up

“Moon, Darling what’s goin on?” He immediately continues “What’s with those suitcases, huh?” He can’t even hide the nervous quiver in his voice.

You turn to finally look at him with empty eyes, get up and walk up to him and then “I have to leave.” And with that you move to walk past him but Joel stops you by reaching for you arm, you immediately pull your arm away hissing “Don’t fuckin touch me Joel.”

He’s stunned by this harsh rejection, his expression full of hurt. Yet he persists by getting close, grabbing your face with both hands, his warm calloused hands that you love- loved so much. He urges “Talk to me baby, what is going on, why would ya need to leave?” Even with everything he tried to be gentle, his voice panicked yet almost just a whisper.

He can see in your eyes some sadness creeping in when you mutter “Joel..-“ you take one deep inhale “-…this House no longer feels like home.” He can tell even with how hard you try to appear collected that it pains you to say those words. “Wh…what do ya mean? If- if the house is the problem we can just move.” You cut in “No Joel, no i..I don’t love you anymore. Ok? I can’t stay here any longer.”

It’s a punch right into his gut there’s no way you are serious. “Baby all ya stuff is here you can’t just leave.” He tries to find something to buy him time. “I don’t care Joel just…just throw it away or sell it or I don’t know fuckin burn it. I won’t need it anyway.” He’s so shocked that you use that to continue your path towards the front door and the waiting suitcases.

On top of one suitcase lies a tote bag containing your phone, a jacket and your wallet sits. You swing it over your shoulder, you can hear that Joel has started crying, his huffed breaths are all you can hear.

That’s when a car starts honking outside, the Uber is here, you go to open the front door twisting the knob you can hear him walking up behind you with heavy steps. You open the door anyway with him at your back and you move the suitcases out onto the porch. Joel’s trying his hardest to contain his sobbing to a minimum but it’s hard he loves you so much, he thinks about the ring in his wardrobe hidden behind stuff you’d never go for and he thinks about the talks you two had of having a baby. If only he knew

His heart is breaking watching you walk away from all of it. You turn to him, one last time, he looks shattered, you've never seen Joel like this, you give him a nod as if to give him the ok to touch you one more time if only to give some kind of closure. He moves closer without hesitation and takes your face in his hands once more and leans his forehead against yours. His frantic breathing collides with your face and then “Wh…why Baby just why?” He sobs A simple question and you decide to give him at least something you reach up to put your hands over his to get him to open his eyes.

“Joel I’m not myself anymore, i-…i feel so all over the place and I’m so scared.” Tears start clouding your sight. “I need to be away from everything. I need to be alone far away to just maybe find some peace. I need to be gone.” And the tears start falling “No matter where I look I can’t stop seeing him and it’s crushing me.” Now you're full on crying. He’s processing what you’re saying and somewhere in his mind he understands that, still he can’t believe this is it.

“Ok-….if ya need to go at least promise you’ll give some sorta sign ya alright?” He looks desperate “Please Baby….please just a text something anything.” You only nod and then pull out of his grasp, take the suitcases and shakinly make your way to the Uber. Joel can only watch and hope you’ll stick to your words, hope that you’ll find some kind of way back to yourself.

The Uber driver gets out as you approach and opens the trunk helping to put the suitcases in there. Then you walk to the right door on the back, open it and hesitate for a moment. Joel holds his breath but you continue to slip into the backseat. Closing the door and off the car goes. Joel doesn’t know for how much longer he stood on the porch long after the car was gone. What was there is no more.

Npt: @almostfoxglove @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @the-mandawhor1an @rivnedell (honestly I’m tagging pretty randomly, sorry) 💙

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

#Joel Miller #joel miller one shot #dbf!joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #angst #almostfoxgloveangstchallenge #Mina’s writing #my writing

206 notes · View notes

abookloverlmao · 9 months

Text

THE GIRL IN THE SOCKS ON THE ROOF - JJ Maybank

Summary: save my life and i'll save yours, pretty boy. In the coastal paradise of Outer Banks, Y/N teeters on the edge of the rooftop in socks, drowning in despair, and there's Papa JJ appearing in her life like an angel.

"'Cause it's too cold for you here and now, so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater."

Warning: female!reader, triggering themes (mental health struggles, including references to self-harm, depression, or suicidal thoughts and acts), alcohol, drug, weed, swearing, etc., this will angsty as shit and fluffy, do not read if you don't want to! you have been warned, let me know what you think!

☆

JJ has no idea that he had saved a life.

well, he never believed such a thing, never believed that he was this special to think twice that the person he saved will do anything to pay him back.

And that person was Y/N, the girl in socks on the roof of a building, a tall one.

It was a summer night, the night of the Fourth of July, an hour away from the fireworks starting and here was the handsome blond walking out of the store with few beers and snacks with Sarah Cameron by his side.

Yelling echoed around the neighborhood, and the two blondes turned towards the sound, a man running after a very gorgeous girl in shorts, a top and some socks.

No flipflops, or sandals, just black socks, running down the streets and busy looking behind to notice JJ and Sarah standing there watching in pure confusion until she bumped at him.

"YOU DIRTY LITTLE BITCH COME BACK HERE!" The man yelled and Y/N picked up the bags of snacks he held, apologizing and handing them to him in panic.

Eyes wide with tears covering them, wild hair like she was electrocuted, chest going up and down rapidly, she met Sarah's eyes and shot her the most heartbreaking smile.

"I am so sorry," she turned to JJ, meeting his pretty eyes that watched hers in concern, god she was beautiful, he has never seen someone this gorgeous even in the state of panic.

Before he could even open his mouth to respond, she continued running, she was very fast, legs moving in a speed of light, everytime her feet landed on the ground, pain rushed through her veins.

Adrenaline pumping, the summer night breeze slapping her cheeks left and right, she could feel Sarah Cameron's eyes on hers and the handsome boy whom she bumped into.

As they climbed the Twinkie, JJ's mind not once left the girl who disappeared five minutes ago, he knew who she was, well... he saw her in a few parties, standing there with a drink in hand talking to one pogue mostly.

"I feel like I saw her before," he whispered turning to Sarah who watched in slight worry as the man ran past them with so much hatred in his eyes, a murderous look that scared her.

"That's Y/N, sweetest Kook with apparently a rough life," she replied wincing as another curse left Mister L/N's lips, a frown on her face, JJ's hand was on the steering wheel, feeling a sudden protectiveness towards the girl who bumped into him.

It looked like she had a rough life, especially when she was running in only socks with a man chasing behind her, his eyebrows almost touched and he watched the man in disgust.

He reminded him of his dad... but oh he didn't know that he was basically his dad's twin brother.

"God I hope she doesn't get caught by Mister L/N," she whispered in worry, guilt eating her alive and once JJ started to drive, he looked around in hope to find her.

Nothing.

"It's the fourth of July..." spoke Sarah again, and his mind went back to Y/N's eyes... brimmed with tears reminded him so much of his, he really wanted to know the reason why she was in that state.

And the second time he saw her was on the roof of a building, John B has sent him again to buy fireworks to light on the beach, but then something caught his eyes.

Someone.

The moonlight shone down on her, black shorts, white top, hair flying everywhere thanks to the wind, black socks, she stood on the edge of the roof staring ahead, the moonlight kissing her skin and making hear tear glisten like diamonds, what the fuck.

Without thinking twice, he sprinted up the stairs, ignoring that it was a building with people living in it, rich people that would knsult him idf they saw him in, he raced up the stairs, boots clapping against the ground as he grabbed the railing for support trying not to trip

He never ran so fast, worry ate him alive as he ran in the speed of light.

Opening the door to the roof with all his force he rushed to the girl just as her feet lifted and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back to his chest.

She gasped in surprise, her tear-streaked face turning towards him. For a moment, time stood still as their eyes locked. JJ could feel the rapid thumping of her heart against his chest, matching the adrenaline rushing through his own veins.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of concern and relief, he turned her around and watched as she looked into his eyes, body shaking with a combination of fear and exhaustion.

"You don't have to do this. You're not alone."

She studier him with glossy eyes, watched as he pushed away her hair from her wet cheeks and cupped her cheeks as if he knew her for years.

At his words she collapsed in his arms, clinging to him tightly, as if holding on for dear life, he wrapped his arms around her as tightly and ran his hand down her hair.

He wasn't used to giving hugs, felt awkward when someone gave him one ir he did, but he hugged her, the weight of her struggles and pain was palpable, and in that moment, JJ understood that there was so much more to her story than what he had glimpsed before.

"Grab my hand," she did as told, hand trembling as he gently guided her away from the edge, leading her to a safer spot on the rooftop.

She slipped down the wall, wrapping her arms around herself tightly ss the breeze got rough, then JJ sat beside her, forgetting his task and what he was supposed to buy.

They sat down together, the distant sounds of fireworks starting to fill the night sky, but not the Outer Banks yet, in 10 minutes, JJ's heart raced as he tried to find the right words to say, wanting to offer comfort and support to this girl he barely knew.

He turned to her, taking off his red hat and ruffling his blond hair, "sup, I'm JJ," he finally said, his voice soft but steady and she chuckled at his words, "And you...you don't have to face this alone. Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude, she sniffled, wiping away the tears that continued to stream down her cheeks.

"Sup, I'm Y/N..." she whispered, her voice barely audible as she pulled her knees closer to her body, staying silent for a minute gnawing at her lower lip, she spoke again, "Thank you, for saving my life and...being there when no one else was."

JJ's heart ached at her words. He couldn't fathom how someone as beautiful and kind-hearted as Y/N could feel so alone and unloved.

He pulled out the lighter and played with it for a few seconds, "I don't know what you've been through, but I want you to know that Papa J, is here for you, no matter what. You deserve to be surrounded by people who care about you."

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears once again, but this time they were tears of relief mixed with a glimmer of hope. She had never expected a chance encounter with JJ to lead to this moment of genuine connection and understanding.

But she blinked away the tears and smiled at him brightly, sitting by his side, her shoulder pressed to his as they stared ahead, "I'll make sure to keep that in mind, Thank you, Papa J," a smile that showed his dimples appeared and she felt herself go warm.

"You know what will make you feel better?" He suddenly spoke standing up and slapping his butt to get rid of the dirt, she looked up at him in confusion, wondering what will make her feel better.

"What?"

JJ smiled down at her brightly like a Cheshire cat, "light some fireworks on the beach, smoke weed, drink beers," he suggested putting his hand in front if her to take.

She stared at his hands for a hot second, glancing at the edge of the roof that she almost fell from and then back at him, she never drank alcohol or even had a puff of smoke, breaking the rules sounded like a good idea at the moment.

"why not." She put her hand on top of his watching him hold it carefully, gently, his rings cold and sending a shiver down her spine.

He lifted her and glanced down at the socks, "damn don't your feet hurt?" She laughed softly and followed his eyes down, "they are hurting now, like a bitch." He nodded in response and they walked towards the stairs, hand still in hers.

Her eyes went back to the edge of the roof again, but JJ blocked her path and pushed the door for her, "after you, be careful not to slip, I almost did with my damn boots." She rolled her eyes but grinned at him.

"You're the clumsy one." She replied making him roll his eyes and gasp dramatically, pretending to faint while doing so, it made her laugh.

She had a gorgeous laugh, contagious that it made him laugh as well, he wondered why a girl like her would even think of trying to leave this world.

He wanted to ask, but no. This wasn't the right moment.

☆☆☆

He handed her his scandals (which led to her saying that his feet were bigger than her face) and called John B to apologize and explain what happened while she was looking for slushy flavors.

Then they went to the beach, watched the fireworks, drank beers, and shared weed, one after the other, placing her lips right where his were, he taught her basic surf tricks, and he did everything to make her forget about the troubles filling her mind.

And it worked.

They laughed, and they talked for hours, sharing stories, dreams, and even their deepest fears, water was reaching her thighs as she watched the colorful explosions in the night sky.

She was high and watching the sky have multicolor stars with so much awe, her eyes glossy and her hand waving underwater, and JJ admired.

Every single feature, the way she watched the fireworks and stood by his side, hair wild and crazy, speaking her mind in a way he never thought anyone would do so, wearing only her bikini top and shorts.

How can a person high till cloud 9 speak like that? He thought, "I mean, that's the thing, Lana Del Rey once said..." She put her finger up, swallowing, "Live fast, die young, be wild, and have fun. That’s my motto, but my dad did everything to not give me my freedom, everything, and believe it or not this is the first time I felt happy."

JJ knew what it was like, it was the same for him, his dad was a fucking asshole and everyone knew it, they all blamed that man's crime on him, and he hated that she had the same problems.

"I think we need to get out, you're way too high baby," he spoke with a laugh grabbing her waist and starting to make his way out of the water.

"oh come on I'm trying to be emotional here! Wait- did you just call me baby?" she asked grabbing his wrist, slurring over her words.

JJ chuckled, his heart warming at Y/N's playful reaction. He had been so caught up in the moment that he had let slip a term of endearment without even realizing it.

But now, with her intoxicated state bringing out her candidness, he found himself unable to hide his smile.

"Yeah, I did call you baby," he replied, his voice teasing, "It just slipped out. But you know what? I think it suits you."

Y/N's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing her face. "Oh really? And why is that?" he couldn't respond instead raised his eyebrow at her, showing his cute dimples that made her smile even more brightly.

"I will not tell you." and next thing he knew she pulled him deeper in the water and pulled him along, pushing him with her in, his hand wrapped around her waist to not lose her and water surrounded them.

them swimming around one another, the light coming from the moon and fireworks the only thing brightening their surroundings, all euphoric. As their eyes locked underwater, JJ felt a surge of anticipation, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them suspended in the watery depths.

They swam closer and closer, her hair moving around her like a mermaid, he watched as the multicolor lights flashing kissed her skin, eyes twinkling like pearls.

As they swam closer, their bodies gracefully gliding through the liquid medium, time seemed to slow down. Every movement, every touch, was heightened by the magical atmosphere surrounding them. The water embraced them, caressing their skin and amplifying the intensity of their connection.

Y/N has never seen such a beautiful person like JJ, his blonde hair shimmered like strands of liquid gold, framing his face in a way that accentuated his angelic features, ocean eyes watching her in a way no one did, it made her blood run hot even underwater, his muscles twitching as he moved.

God, he was beautiful....

He was angel. That's it, he was an angel sent from heaven to save her from the roof and make her life worth living for.

Their faces drew closer, the space between them narrowing with each passing second, but just as her lips were about to brush against his, doubt crept into JJ's mind.

He hesitated, like he always did, his thoughts momentarily overpowering the weird feelings he felt in that moment. He withdrew slightly, his hand releasing its grip on her waist.

His wide eyes met hers, and for a moment, the silence between them was deafening, she hesitated as well, confused as to why he did in the first place, but never going to question it.

Maybe he didn't feel comfortable, she thought, JJ's mind raced, questioning the wisdom of his decision, too risky, she's high and probably won't remember by tomorrow- JJ calm the fuck down.

He hated himself for hesitating but he had no choice, she grabbed his shirt and swam back up with him to the surface, JJ followed, cursing himself for letting his doubts cloud the moment, for allowing fear to guide his actions.

But deep down, he knew he couldn't ignore the nagging thoughts that had caused him to retreat.

Y/N, for her part, seemed to accept the situation without questioning it. Her silence spoke volumes, leaving JJ with a mix of relief and regret, as they resurfaced, the world above the water greeted them with its own set of distractions.

The sounds of laughter and music filled the air, the festivities of the night continuing as if nothing had happened below the surface. Y/N's wide eyes met his again, searching for answers that he couldn't provide.

JJ gave her a weak smile and her, perceptive as ever, returned his smile with a gentle nod, and just before she started to swim back to land, he spoke with a high pitched voice to not make her go.

"me and my friend want to become Kooks, looking for gold, anything that will make us rich, when this world will become gentle with us, I'm gonna get a new board. I'm gonna deck it out, and I'm gonna go on a surf trip. Ride, whatever the waves take you, you know?" he said watching her stop and turn back around.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she listened to his plans, his determination shining through despite the uncertainties of their current moment.

Dreams do save lives after all.

"Do you have your passport, pretty boy?" she asked with a laugh at his determination, it made his hammering heart slow down, and relief wash over him as he thought she was mad at him at first.

"Hell no, I don't got a passport, Kookiest thing ever." he replied making her laugh even harder, throwing her head back and staring at the sky, her laughter echoing through the water and bringing a sense of lightheartedness to their conversation.

“You definitely should do that, that’s a real dream, surf trip, I believe in you,” she said with a chuckle, starting to swim towards the rock where they kept their stuff hidden just in case someone might steal them, gesturing him to come along.

“you’re saying that like I will do it alone,” he said lifting himself up and out of the water, wrapping the towel he had in the Twinkie around her and grabbing his stuff, “well you will do it with your friends, not alone,” she replied wrapping the towel tighter around her, putting on her sandals.

JJ grabbed their stuff and walked out of the rock, offering his hand so she wouldn’t slip, “and you,” he replied making her smile and glance back at him, "me? So I'm a Pogue now?" she asked teasingly ruffling her hair with the towel.

"Well, I am your friend, you like adventure, saving animals and the sea, you don't hate us, I think you are born a Pogue, besides we could really use your help to become rich," he said shrugging while opening the door to the van.

washing her feet to get rid of the sand she climbed in the passenger seat, towel still tight around her, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Well, if being a Pogue means embarking on thrilling escapades with you and running from cops, count me in," she said, her voice filled with excitement.

"deal."

and she did become one, helped them find the gold by stealing maps from her father's office, and became a sister to almost everyone, Kiara didn't trust her which was fine, but she didn't hate her either.

Besides she understood what it was like, JJ had stayed by her side for the rest of the time, she was on his, she saved him in many ways, the jacuzzi night, she held him, they ran from cops, she stole for him, for them, got in trouble as well and she was loyal.

That way she cried with him that night when she found out what Luke did to him was the same thing her father did to her, cried with him, and held him at the same time, they were both broken after all.

The night she tried to end her life was the night she met JJ Maybank and he saved her in every way a person can be saved, she stayed the night in John B's house, on the couch, her head to JJ's.

everyone was already asleep, both of them damp after their night swim.

"I see you," he suddenly whispered, the light buzzing from god knows where filling the silence along with the crickets, for a second he thought she had fallen asleep since no answer came from her, "and?" she asked a hot minute, tilting her to the side.

His scent filled her nostrils and made her tensed shoulders relax instantly, "you wouldn't have jumped." he replied staring at the ceiling, his blonde hair falling over his eyes.

JJ's whispered words hung in the air, the weight of their meaning sinking in. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she processed his statement, his words cut through the darkness, reaching deep into her soul, and touching upon a truth that she had kept hidden for so long.

"God knows what would've happened if you weren't there," she whispered staring at the ceiling with tears blurring her vision, she played with the shell charm of his bracelet.

"but I'm glad it was you," her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard it, and when he spoke his voice was as soft as a feather, "I'm glad too," he had said and then she felt her blood run hot, cheeks turning rosy.

and with that, they both fell asleep, her finger hooked around his bracelet and his finger drew patterns, their faces so close at the edge of the couch, her head to the right and his to the left, noses almost bumping.

Their breaths synchronized, her scent mixing with his creating the most intoxicating perfume that ever existed, peace washing over them as they slept close to one another, safe from any trouble.

☆☆☆

They fell in love, and they hesitated to tell one another, like the night they hesitated to kiss, there was a palpable tension that's for sure, even the blind could sense it.

But the day she realized that one day she will stop hesitating was in the boat when he fell off it.

"Clear."

He whispered and Y/N walked away with JJ following behind her, a man suddenly appeared in front of her making her call out for the pretty blonde, "JJ..." "of course, there's more of you..." he said pulling out a machete, "get down on your knees," he ordered and JJ grabbed the girl by the waist pulling her back as soon as the man stepped towards her. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen." with that, he charged at the girl who ducked immediately, JJ punched the man and pinned his arm, and Y/N kicked him right in the crotch before with the door to the emergency power locker supply.

Y/N ran towards the railing calling out for the Routledge boy, "JOHN B!" she yelled not even noticing the man approaching her from behind, JJ's eyes widened in horror as he called out for the girl.

"Y/N!" she turned around, eyes on the weapon that went flying towards her, she moved away but it sliced her arm making her wince in pain, "Y/N!" he called again in worry.

Eberhimi lifted his machete and JJ caught his wrist, grabbing him from behind, and elbowing the younger boy in the stomach, he swung at Y/N who caught his wrist and grabbed her collar, her head went to the side and the end of the weapon went right to JJ.

Her eyes widened in terror as JJ fell off the boat into the water, she bit Eberhimi's wrist before grabbing the hand that held the machete, twisting it, and she slammed his head against the glass before the wall.

And with that, he fell to the ground unconscious, Y/N ran towards the edge and called out for JJ whose face was on the water, "JJ!" she called loud enough for Outer Banks to hear.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the boy, she climbed the edge and her demons immediately consumed her, panic gripped her as memories of her own pain and struggles flooded her mind, the night she was standing on the edge.

the same feeling she felt during the fourth of July threatening to overwhelm her, she didn't do it, yet here she is standing on the edge once again.

But she knew she couldn't let fear paralyze her. She had to act. She will step off the edge, god she hoped the water wouldn't turn to solid rocks and kill her immediately, as a payback for not doing it that night

Either you face it or JJ dies. she thought.

With her heart pounding and her mind filled with a mixture of terror and determination, Y/N took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly before stepping off the edge.

The air rushed past her, and for a split second, she felt weightless, suspended between the fear of the unknown and the hope for a different outcome.

As she descended towards the water, her mind raced with thoughts of what awaited her below. Would the water be a lifeline, cradling her safely in its embrace? Or would it become a cruel reminder, punishing her for the choice she didn't make before?

It was too deep, way too deep, she wasn't that good at swimming either, her feet touched the sand for fuck's sake that night because she was scared!

"JJ!" she screamed swimming towards him, turning the boy around she wrapped her arm around his waist, trying to keep them both afloat.

Her heart was racing as she struggled to keep her head above water, tried to fight her own demons that gripped her hair, feet, and everywhere and pulled her, "Please wake up JJ," she pleaded, her voice choked with tears and water that started filling her lungs, "I need you." she begged.

"JJ, stay with me." she called pushing his pretty blonde hair out of his face as she slapped his cheek gently, "J, please. Please!" she exclaimed louder this time.

Y/N's arms were growing tired, and she was struggling to keep JJ's head above water, his entire body leaned against hers desperately.

She could feel herself slowly drowning, but she refused to let go of him. Kicking and trashing around, moving her legs in fast motions, looked nothing like swimming, but kept her head a little above. She moved her legs around at a rapid speed to keep them both afloat, her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was gasping for air, her eyes burning from the salty water.

"Hang on, JJ," she said, her voice shaking. "We'll make it through this together." Despite her fear and exhaustion, Y/N continued to fight, determined not to let JJ go.

she leaned her head against his, his entire head leaning on her shoulder, "John B's coming, John B's coming." she whispered hoping he could hear her, mostly to herself, so she doesn't give up and let her demons take her.

The world really was against her huh?

Y/N was growing weaker by the second, her arms and legs were aching, and she could feel her muscles going numb.

She slowly leaned back, her eyes growing heavy as she struggled to stay conscious, "JJ," she called his name a thousand times, her voice barely above a whisper, "Stay with me, please."

Y/N knew she was fighting a losing battle, she did everything she could to stay awake and not let the water take her.

She squeezed him tightly, feeling his body grow heavier in her arms, despite the pain and exhaustion trying to take over, and dominate, she stayed awake until help arrived.

until John B. arrived.

"JOHN B! HELP!"

Y/N's lungs were burning, and she could feel the water going into her mouth as she called out for help.

"Help!" she shouted, her voice hoarse, "Please, John B help us!" she could feel herself slipping away, her body growing numb as the water enveloped her.

She coughed and sputtered, the taste of salt water filling her mouth, but even as she struggled to breathe, she refused to let go of JJ.

She held him tightly, her arm wrapped around him so tightly, doing everything she could to keep him above water, even pushing him slightly above her even if it resulted in her being underwater.

"Hang on, JJ," she said, her voice shaking, "Just a little longer. John B is coming." Despite the overwhelming odds against her, Y/N continued to fight, her legs moving rapidly as if she never swam in her entire life, determined to stay alive for JJ's sake.

Y/N sobbed against JJ's neck, her tears mixing with the salt water, "I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling from the cold and fear, "I'm sorry. I should've been hit."

She felt guilty and responsible for JJ's injuries, and the weight of it was unbearable.

The water felt like it had hands, pulling her down and dragging her away from JJ. But she clung to him, her grip growing tighter as she fought against the current.

Soon enough, John B appeared and the pogues called out for their friend, "NO! No! No!" exclaimed John B stopping the boat and reaching for his best friend, his brother, and his family.

Y/N couldn't hear her friends calling out for her. She was lost in her own world, struggling to keep her head above water.

As soon as she felt JJ's weight slip away from her, safe and in the arms of her best friend, she let the water take her.

She felt herself sinking deeper and deeper, the darkness closing in all around her.

It wasn't until she felt the strong hands of Sarah, John B, Pope, and Kiara grabbing her and lifting her from under the water that she opened her eyes, gasping for air.

She clung to them tightly, using their strength to lift herself up and out of the water. She was shaking and disoriented, but she was alive.

"Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you for saving me." with that, she looked around for JJ, and her heart sank to her stomach when she saw him lying motionless in the lifeboat.

She crawled towards him, her hands shaking as she reached out to slap his cheek, "Wake up, JJ," she pleaded, her voice choked with emotion.

"Please, wake up!" But JJ remained still, and Y/N felt a sense of panic rising in her chest, no, he can't die.

she knew that she had to do something to help him, so she began slapping his chest, trying to get the water out of his lungs, her friends surrounded her with worry and fear rushing through their veins.

Only Y/N calling and begging him to wake up boomed around them. "Come on, JJ, you can do this. Get up!" she said, her voice quivering badly, she was always a tough person with no fear in her eyes, and now they could see the pure anger and worry in them.

"Don't leave me like this." Y/N continued to work on JJ, refusing to give up even as her arms were limp and her eyes were blurry.

JJ suddenly sat up, coughing and spluttering, water coming out of his mouth.

He looked around, disoriented, and saw John B smiling down at him, "Welcome to the land of the living, dude," John B said, his voice filled with relief. "No CPR needed, huh?"

He didn't respond, instead, his eyes landed on Y/N's hand on his chest, and then on her tear-streaked face.

He sat up, feeling the weight of what had just happened hit him, his tensed muscles dropped at the sight of her like this, "Hi," she greeted, her voice hoarse and filled with relief.

"'sup?" he added teasingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Everyone laughed, and Y/N smacked him before pulling his head towards her chest and hugging him tightly.

She cried silently and kissed his forehead repeatedly, whispering, "Oh, darling, oh JJ, I thought I lost you."

JJ hugged her back, burying his head in the crook of her neck, "I'm here," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." He held her tightly, feeling her warmth and her love envelop him.

For a moment, everything else faded away, and all that mattered was Y/N and JJ, together and alive, that was also the day they both realized they were really in love.

"What the hell happened?" JJ asked, reaching to touch his wound, but Y/N slapped his hand away, replacing it with a piece of fabric.

"The blunt end of a machete," replied Cleo, her voice filled with concern, "Machete?" JJ asked a hint of pride in his voice, "The blunt end. Next time, duck," Y/N said, nodding at Cleo before turning to glare at JJ.

JJ chuckled, wincing slightly at the pain in his side. "I'll try to remember that next time," he said, his voice laced with humor, "Thanks for the save, Y/N."

Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "You saved me, I save you," she said, her eyes softening as she looked at JJ, "I couldn't let anything happen to your dumbass."

JJ smirked, but then he suddenly fainted dramatically, his body falling back onto the boat.

Y/N gasped and rushed to his side, checking his wounds, "JJ, JJ, are you okay?" she asked, her voice full of worry, suddenly, JJ's eyes snapped open, and he grinned up at her. "Gotcha," he said, laughing.

Y/N rolled her eyes in vexation, but she couldn't help but smile, "You're such a drama queen," she said, shaking her head in amusement.

JJ sat up, wincing slightly at the pain in his side, "What can I say?" he said, his voice filled with humor. "I like to keep you on your toes." she looked at JJ in pure annoyance, raising an eyebrow, "I can throw you back, you know," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

JJ grinned, knowing full well that she would never actually do it. "You won't," he said, his voice teasing.

But then Y/N gave him a glare that made him wince. "You won't, right?" he asked, suddenly unsure, "if you annoy me, then I will."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A/N: this might be one of the most beautiful things I've written along with Fairytale, my Kaz Brekker book which you can check out on Wattpad, my account is: KazBrekker090!

I am in love with JJ, that is it, took a while for me to finish this so please do comment what you think and whether I should write a Part 2 where they kiss? Request anything you wish by the way! and thank you!

Like and comment pls!

432 notes · View notes