#even though the parking lot is basically empty

[b14augrana]

‘Scrubber’

Before you fly out for the Spain camp, you make the most of your ‘last day’ in Barcelona

Barça Femení x teen!reader

pt. 5 masterlist

Warnings: ✖️

A/N: a bit of a longer update than usual, but here’s the fridolina content people have been waiting for 🐾 sorry about this being a bit boring, it ends up being like that when bebita isn’t playing a game and making crazy tackles, but it’s not too far away from happening 💝

“Ale, you liar! You said we were leaving today!” you grumbled, wheeling your suitcase back to your room. Your backpack landed with a thud on the ground beside the suitcase, and you trudged back to the woman in the living room. “Don’t twist my words. I just told you to pack so you’re prepared for when we do leave, since you like to leave things till the last minute.”

“We’ve still got to walk downtown with all the trophies, chiquita,” Alexia added.

“So then when are we leaving?” you asked, and she responded with, “Tomorrow night… maybe. Remember, you’ve got school today as well. You wouldn’t had time to pack anyways and I did you a favour.”

“Whatever, I get it. Can we go now? Where’s Irene?” you said, walking out of your bedroom with Alexia. You two entered the kitchen and saw Irene sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal.

“Ireeni,” you exclaimed, basically jumping onto the couch. She clutched her almost-empty bowl and laughed, “I could’ve spilled my cereal, nenita.”

“There‘s barely anything in it,” you replied, rolling your eyes and shuffling closer to her.

You were really tired for some reason. The fatigue of the last few days was seemingly catching up to you, and all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and stay there. Alexia wouldn’t let you do that though. She wanted you to come and walk with the trophy you helped the team earn, but you thought she was just giving you way more credit than what was due at that point.

“Ale, I didn’t even do much to be carrying the trophy!” you argued, but she looked at you with an eyebrow raised and a small smile. “Don’t be silly, you’re too humble. You did everything.”

“(Y/N), Fridolina said she is going to pick you up from here and take you downtown for breakfast,” Irene said, looking up from her phone.

You nodded happily. Fridolina was one of your most favourite people in the world. You always looked forward to café dates with her in downtown Barcelona, and she knew you better than you knew herself. She was like a mother to you.

A knock rung through the house, and you almost slipped while sprinting to the door. You wrenched it open and revealed the tall Swede on the other side of the door, smiling down at you. “Frido!”

“Hi kärlek, how are you?” the woman asked, engulfing you in a hug. “I’m good. I’ll just grab my shoes and then we can go, vale?”

“Vale,” Fridolina laughed. As you ran to your room to grab a pair of sneakers, she spoke to Irene and Alexia for a little bit. “Okay, I’m ready,” you said, emerging from your bedroom.

Fridolina waved goodbye to Irene and Alexia. You turned around and said goodbye to them as well, and then you walked out of Irene’s apartment. You two took the elevator down to the complex parking lot, and while you were stepping out of the elevator, you spoke. “Where are we going today, Frido?”

“Our usual spot. I figured you might want one of their pastries to get you going,” she smiled, opening up the door to her car, “Oh, by the way, I’m taking you to school today. I just talked about it with Irene and Alexia.”

You sat in the passenger seat, stretching out your legs, “That’s cool. Can I stay at your house tonight? I’ve been at Irene’s all week,” you asked. Fridolina nodded as she started up her car and reversed out of the car park. “Do you have clothes?”

“Oh shit, that reminds me… I have to go tomorrow. My suitcase is at Irene’s!” you exclaimed with a groan.

“It’s okay, you can always sleep over another time. That doesn’t mean you can’t stay for a bit, I can drop you off to Irene’s if you want to hang around,” Fridolina suggested.

“Perfect. Gracías, Frido!”

The rest of the car ride consisted of small conversations and a bit of singing along to the radio until Fridolina found a parking spot on the side of the street. You hopped out of the car and skipped around to the other side, then you walked into the café with Frido.

“So, how are you feeling? Are your legs alright after all those tackles?” the Scandi asked as you two sat down at a table, “I always forget you’re only 16.”

“My legs are alright for the most part. I guess the win cancels out all the bruises and grazes,” you giggled in response.

Fridolina smiled at you and added, “I’m glad you’re feeling well. You really impressed us all last Saturday. You kept us in the game.”

Your cheeks flushed a pale pink and you looked down at the table, smiling shyly, “It was all Aitana. She gave us the momentum.”

You examined the menu and tried to decide what to order. Frido discussed it with you and when you two settled on your orders, you went to the cashier and bought the food.

You had ordered a couple of almond croissants, an Earl Grey tea, and a grilled cheese. Fridolina got a coffee with a Boston cream donut on the side. While going extremely slowly, you walked over to the table with your food in hand and Fridolina’s in the other. As you placed it down and got back in your seat, she spoke.

“So, are you excited for the Olympics?” she asked, stirring her coffee and taking a sip. You took a bite out of your grilled cheese and nodded, saying between a mouthful, “Really excited.”

It was your first ever Spain call-up. Most people were a bit surprised as they expected you to have experience playing with Spain’s youth teams, and you received invites to the teams, but since you started playing for Barcelona at such a young age, your agent told you to turn them down. Somehow he knew that you’d get a call-up to the senior team not long after, and he was right.

You confided in Mapi, asking her about what she thought was the best decision to make since she had withdrawn from the national team. Despite the new management and Mapi’s reassurance you still weren’t completely sure, but you pushed it aside for the opportunity to win Olympic gold.

“What if we verse each other, Frido?” you said, thinking about the possibility. The Swede placed her cup of coffee down and leaned back in her chair and responded, “Then you treat me like any other opponent.”

“But you’re Frido, not any other opponent,” you replied.

“To you I’m Frido, but to the rest of your team I’m the rival, and they’re trying to beat me. You aren’t playing for Barcelona at the Olympics, you’re playing for Spain,” she said with a smile, taking a little bite out of her donut. She offered you some, but you declined with a quiet ‘thank you’.

As you two ate your meals, your conversation switched from that of football to more general things up until you finished your food and decided to go home. You considered going back with Frido, but you didn’t want to get too tired and annoy Alexia the next morning, when you couldn’t wake up in time, so you didn’t say anything and let her take you home.

Frido walked you to Irene’s apartment and knocked on the door. When Irene opened the door, she was met with you standing beside the Scandi, smiling brightly with both your arms wrapped around one of Frido’s. “Nenita, you’re back,” Irene exclaimed.

“I hope she didn’t blow too much of your money, Fridolina,” Irene continued with a laugh, and Fridolina laughed as well, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, she’s learning the value of it.”

“Bye bye kärlek,” Frido said, wrapping you in a warm hug. You hugged her back tightly, saying goodbye and running inside while her and Irene said bye to each other. “Where’s Ale? I thought she was staying for the day,” you spoke, flopping onto the couch.

“The trophy walk, remember? She’s meeting Fridolina, Patri and Sandra at headquarters,” Irene explained.

“Why aren’t you with them?” you questioned, looking at her with a confused expression.

“Because we’re going together. Come on, get your ‘Movem El Món’ shirt and get in the car,” the Basque replied, shaking her car keys. You completely forgot about the trophy walk and you were kinda hoping Irene forgot about it as well so you wouldn’t have to go, but you trudged to your room and snatched up the shirt anyways.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your school either!” Irene yelled from the living room. That was another thing you wish she had forgotten but the one thing you know she’d never forget.

The trophy walk was pretty straightforward. Alexia thrusted the Champions League into your arms and made you parade down the street with the silverware, showing it off. You did enjoy it, but it wasn’t worth the ache in your shoulders.

Irene let you skip your classes, and she took you straight home. She could see the exhaustion in your eyes, and she didn’t want you to suffer the consequences of being tired and unable to wake up when Alexia came to pick you up the next morning.

You skipped dinner, instead beelining straight to your room. You felt like a zombie, but you liked that kind of tiredness — it made sleeping feel way better than usual. As soon as your head touched the pillow, you were sound asleep.

Irene even did your Hay Day login for you.

Alexia had been the one to ruin your sleep since Irene had opted to travel with Mariona and Sandra. She shook you gently and was very surprised when she didn’t have to bang pots and pans. “Nena, I made breakfast for you. Come out when you’re ready, vale?”

You nodded slowly and rolled over, pulling the duvet to your chin and sighing deeply. At that point you were fully awake, you just wanted to soak up the warmth of your sheets.

You sat up on your bed, rubbing your eyes. You looked directly at the poster of Vidić stuck on your wall, your eyes lingering on it for a moment longer than usual. You looked at the picture of him holding up the UCL, knowing you felt the same euphoria just a few days ago as you held the trophy for the same title, all because you managed to capture his essence and make it part of your play style. It was amazing what a notable inspiration could do for you.

You emerged out of your room and sat at the bench, resting your head in the palm of your hand as Alexia pushed a plate of strawberry-topped waffles towards you with a smoothie. “Our flight has been rescheduled. We have to be at the airport in a couple of hours, sí?”

You nodded once again, taking a bite of the waffles.

“By the way, both our matches are against Denmark,” she added, putting some waffles on a plate for herself. “What’re we versing Denmark for? I didn’t know they qualified for the Olympics,” you mumbled.

“They didn’t. It’s for the Euros,” Alexia laughed, pulling out a stool and sitting beside you. The Euros had totally slipped your mind.

“There’s so many tournaments going on, I can’t keep up!” you sighed, shaking your head.

“You’ve been playing too much Hay Day, it’s gotten to your head. Maybe give Bagheera Land a break until we come back to Barcelona,” the Spaniard joked with a gentle nudge to your side, and you smiled.

“Even though you’re playing for the national team and there’s a lot of important tournaments coming up…” Alexia started, pausing to chew her food. You looked at her curiously as you also chewed your food.

“…You’re allowed to make mistakes because you’re still young. All of us have been where you are right now, but none of us were as talented as you. Cree en ti misma, mi chica, y florecerás.”

You had made as many daring tackles as it took to lead your club to glory for the third time in a row and complete a historical quadruple. On top of that, you had partaken in defeating the club your team has never been able to beat in a final. Winning Olympic gold with a World Cup winning nation is nothing compared to that.

“Venga, let’s get our stuff together and call the taxi. The earlier we get there, the more time we have to wander the airport without rushing,” Alexia announced as you put the last bite of food into your mouth and sipped the remaining amount of your smoothie. She grabbed your plate and put it on top of hers, then walked over to the sink and quickly washed them.

You wheeled your suitcase out to the living room and put your other bags on top of it, waiting for Alexia to grab her backpack. When she swept it up from the couch, you pulled the handle of your suitcase up. “I’m ready!”

Alexia smiled at you and nodded towards the door, “Vamos, estrella.”

You couldn’t wait to get on the plane just so you could pull out your neck pillow and have the best nap of your life. You were constantly checking the time, counting down the minutes until the gate opened.

The original plan was for the whole national team to travel on one plane together, but somehow, all the Barça girls including yourself ended up on the team commercial plane. You preferred it, because you wanted to properly meet the team and not on a plane when all you want to do is sleep.

You settled into your seat and quickly grabbed your neck pillow. The airline gave you a complimentary regular pillow as well, which you hugged tight. By the time you opened your eyes and sat up with a yawn, looking out of the window with squinted eyes, you weren’t in Barcelona anymore.

You were approaching Denmark. As the plane descended and got closer to land, a mixture of nerves and excitement formed in your stomach.

The last time you felt so nervous, you won a Champions League title. You were scared but you did it anyways, and that’s what you’d have to do when meeting your teammates for the first time and then playing against Denmark with them.

Do it anyways.

[obaex]

four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 2)

summary: with the stakes of your relationship on the line, can rafe pull off the impossible to win you back?

word count: 6k 🫣

a/n: i love you all for the love on this lil' series!! ♡ toxic hockey rafe has me in a chokehold, so i promise this will not be the last you see of him!! apologies in advance, you will basically be attending a full hockey game here, i tried my best to explain all the lingo!

The arena was packed even though you were there early, arriving alone because the other girlfriends and wives were always late, which simply wasn't in your DNA.

Your dad was a coach growing up, so you spent countless hours in empty rinks, arenas and stands; his rule for games was that you were in your seat early enough to see the starting lineup and the national anthem, no exceptions. Truth be told you liked being there when the lights went down, when the music amped up, you loved the anticipation of a new game.

You didn't mind sitting in the cold seat, hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate that you got from the same concession stand every time. Hockey players were notoriously superstitious and by extension now you were too; just like they had their pregame rituals, so did you: same parking spot in the VIP lot, same hot chocolate from the same concession stand, same seat in section 106. You were in the lower bowl of the arena, a few rows back from the ice, facing the bench, nearly eye-level with the team.

You let your mind wander and tried not to think about Rafe but it was impossible, this place was Rafe to you; from the feeling of the cold air on your cheeks and fingers, to the damp and crisp smell of the ice and the sounds of the fans and ambient pregame music, all of it was a part of your love story, all of it was him. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt like you thought it would, rather it felt like coming home after a semester at college, foreign but familiar.

You swiped at your phone, a nervous tick, even though you knew there wouldn't be anything there, which was a good thing, Rafe needed to be focused on the game, so you slid your phone into the cupholder next to you and resorted to tapping your heeled foot nervously.

The seats around you filled quickly and sure enough the other girlfriends and wives arrived just as the lights were dimming, offering cheek kisses and sympathetic hugs, well aware of your situation. Your best friend Morgan slid in next to you, pulling you into her side.

"It's selfish, but I'm glad you're here" she said, loud enough to be heard over the music and the announcer as her brown eyes traced your face sympathetically.

"I'm fine" you lied with a forced smile. Totally fine you thought. Not the love of my life who broke my heart then skated over it trying to win me back in the middle of the semifinals.

You decided to keep all of that to yourself, because truthfully it was ridiculous. It was juvenile. And it was never going to happen. And you didn't want it to happen anyway, you reassured yourself. Right?

You shook your head as you turned your attention to the starting lineup as Rafe's name boomed over the loudspeaker, the cheering noticeably louder from the crowd. He was a fan favorite, beloved for his fast and aggressive style of play. He wasn't afraid to two-hand someone when the referee wasn't looking, to stand up for his team, to battle for the puck. He was chippy, gritty, and he's on the first line tonight you thought to yourself, a spot reserved for the very best players, putting them in the best scoring position. But surely that's not in any way related to our deal... you mused.

You stood on your tiptoes to see him over the crowd in front of you. He was standing at center ice under the spotlight, his helmet tucked under his arm as he shuffled side to side on his skates, face unsmiling, focused as he looked between his feet and the empty ice in front of him. Your heart leapt uncontrollably at the sight of him; God he's beautiful you thought as your body hummed in recognition and longing, completely betraying you.

The tension and animosity in the arena were thick. You had faced the opposing team a few times in the regular season and it did not end well.

As in, you'd lost every time.

As in, Rafe left the last game with a five-minute major penalty and a black eye after an all-out brawl.

Now the fans were itching for a rematch and you were simply hoping for everyone to leave in one piece. That was the difference between being a fan and being someone who cared deeply for the boys on the ice, it wasn't a spectacle to you anymore. You watched as Rafe's wingers Nick and Andrew stood beside him, followed by two defensemen and your goalie as the national anthem wrapped up.

Everyone took their seats as the lights came back on and the music came on again too, urging the fans around you to cheer, and for you to resume the incessant tapping of your foot as you leaned forward in your seat, laser focused on the guys lining up for the faceoff.

"Girl, you good?" Morgan asked, taking in your nervous energy.

"Hmm?" you responded distractedly, barely glancing at her. "Yeah, yeah m'fine" you said.

You were always more into the game than the other girls, but that didn't account for the clear tension and anxiety rolling off of you in waves, nor the way you were immaculately dressed, which didn't go unnoticed either.

Rafe skated to center ice, equally sized with the opponent at faceoff as the referee dropped the puck. It had barely clattered to the ice before Rafe had gained possession, shouldering his opponent out of the way and barreling towards the offensive zone with a burst of energy like a gunshot that had the crowd almost immediately back on their feet, pulling you along with them.

"OK, I'm sorry, what is happening here?" Morgan said as she watched him.

He was a man possessed, head down, focused, ignoring his teammates as they called for the puck to set up a play, like he was trying to do it all himself. Like he was trying to score. He flipped the puck towards the goalie, who blocked it and possession shifted as he skated backwards on defense, your heart settling in your chest.

Rafe always played with intensity, but with the way he was playing now, he wouldn't make it through the first period. You thought there would be a reprieve on defense, but he was diving for the puck, playing to steal rather than defending his zone. He looked like a maniac.

Until it worked.

The crowd was back on their feet as he and Nick had a breakaway two-on-one, both of them racing towards the net together with only one defender standing between them and the goalie, the rest of their teammates striding to catch up with them. Nick called for the puck, slapping his stick on the ice, but Rafe deked the defender, faking him out before approaching the goalie and tipping the puck into the small pocket over his shoulder, swishing it effortlessly into the net.

The arena erupted as the goal horn blared and you found yourself jumping up and down, overcome with excitement and emotion. You could physically feel your heart beating. This is totally normal you thought. It's totally fine to score a goal in the first two minutes of the game, on his first shift, against the toughest team in the league.

You watched players pile on him in celebration before they all skated back to the bench, bumping fists with their team before taking a seat on the bench. Your eyes were glued to him, and his were on the jumbotron above center ice, watching his own replay before the coach approached him, grasping his shoulder angrily, and you could imagine why. He had been reckless, he had been lucky. Rafe nodded, but ultimately shook him off and refocused on the resumed play. Players zoomed in front of you and your eyes zipped to follow them before you glanced ever so briefly back at Rafe, who was unmistakably looking at you and smiling.

You swallowed to hide the emotions on your face, not giving him a single inch as you focused on the play.

You loved watching hockey, but it felt different when Rafe was on the ice, like he was a magnet, the only thing you could focus on, and his next shift was no different. He was playing like a madman and within seconds you could hear the coach shouting. Rafe turned up emptyhanded this time and the coach was visibly angry as Rafe skated to the bench, going so far as to yell back at him, which had you holding your breath; you had never seen him do that before.

Nick reached for Rafe's shoulder to calm him down and then they started bickering back and forth. Your attention was now split between the two of them and the action on the ice when you saw Nick physically rear back at something Rafe had said, the motion grabbing your full focus. Nick covered his face with his gloved hands, looking back at Rafe and then repeating the motion before he glanced up at the stands, at you, and shook his head, resigned. Were they talking about you!?! you thought. Had Rafe just told him what's going on?

You were so caught up that you missed the play as the other team scored. The game was tied 1-1. The arena echoed with boos as their bench erupted in cheers. You looked up at the clock: 2 minutes left in the first period.

Rafe and Nick got onto the ice for their last shift and the second the puck dropped, they were off as a duo, Nick's intensity now matching Rafe's own; they were bodying guys, tag-teaming as they raced into the offensive zone. Nick had the puck and passed to Rafe, and almost immediately Rafe was cornered by two extremely large defensemen who pinned him to the boards as they tried to steal the puck. But he wouldn't relent, throwing his elbows and trying to wiggle free, desperate and angry as the buzzer sounded for the end of the period.

And yet they didn't let him go. The crowd started shouting and everyone was on their feet as Rafe dropped his stick, turned and grabbed them both by the front of their jerseys, shoving them as the benches emptied and other players joined in, piling on top of one another until you lost sight of Rafe in a mess of limbs, equipment and jerseys. You were craning to see over the ecstatic fans, egging on the fight as the referees raced to break it up, pulling bodies off of one another until they reached Rafe.

His helmet had come off and as the referees skated him towards the locker room, he was shouting at the opposing team who skated after him, riling each other up before he yanked himself out of the ref's grasp and marched off the ice through the tunnel.

Period 1: Game Tied. 1-1.

You let out a deep sigh before collapsing back in your seat. You took a shaky inhale before exhaling and you felt a set of eyes on you.

You turned to see Morgan looking at you with an eyebrow arched.

"You're really going to sit here and act like you don't know what's going on? I know that boy texts you his every thought."

You opened your mouth, an excuse, a lie ready before she interrupted you.

"-- And I KNOW you didn't block him like you said you were going to, so don't try me. What the hell is going on?"

You bit your lip at that, glancing between her and the ice where the zamboni was running clean lines across the cold surface.

You gave a halfhearted shrug, "You know how much he wants to win, how much this means to him."

She doubled down her glare.

You sighed, avoiding her gaze before looking back to her.

"I made a deal with him" you nearly whispered.

A few of the other girls snuck by you both, causing you to shift in your seats as she leaned in and whisper-shouted at you:

"I'm sorry what!"

"If he scores four goals tonight, I said I'd get back together with him."

"You're joking" she said flatly. "Please tell me you're joking."

You pursed your lips with a small shake of your head.

"The two of you" she said as she let out an exasperated laugh. "Unbelievable. You can't stay away from each other and yet you’re willing to bet the stakes of your relationship on a game. I can't" she said, throwing her hands up in defeat.

She paused, getting serious for a moment.

"Are you sure you even want to get back with him, is that really such a good idea hun?"

"Morgan, he's never going to score four goals, it's like, impossible."

"Are you watching the same game I am?" she said emphatically. "Cause your mans sure is gonna try and you better ask yourself what you're going to do if he does."

There was a whisper of truth to what she was saying. It was probably impossible, but not completely out of reach. And what would you do? Your heart trilled. You would be ecstatic the devil on your shoulder said. You would be screwed said the angel.

Your phone buzzed in the cupholder next to you and swiped it open.

You grasped at your phone. Rafe never had his phone between periods, none of the players did, it was basically sacrilegious. They had just enough time to get treatment, catch their breath, hydrate and listen to their coach and he was on his phone!? You put yours down and tried to rearrange the smile creeping onto your face as you saw the teams rejoining the ice for the second period.

Just like before, Rafe was off like a rocket, but the other team was on to him this time, doubling his defensive coverage, making it nearly impossible for him to skate, let alone make a play. He had put a target on his back with the fight at the end of the first period, so even when he didn't have the puck, you could see the other players go after him, a stick in his skates, a slash at his side, heads turning to chirp at him as they lined up for faceoffs. But he didn't slow down for a moment, battling twice as hard now, coming back to the bench after each shift uncharacteristically exhausted, heaving with his elbows on his knees.

You watched him and felt overcome with emotions as the realization hit you: Rafe wasn't good at expressing himself, he wasn't a 'feelings' person, he didn't always know what to say, which is why sometimes words came better to him over texts when he had more time to think about it. But hockey? Hockey was his language. He couldn't tell you how sorry he was, how much he wanted to fight for this, but he could show you. He could play for you, he was playing for you, putting his body on the line, trying his all-out hardest, not a single person in the arena could deny that as they watched him tonight. He wanted this. Badly. Which meant he wanted you, badly. You felt a flush of warmth in your cheeks that had nothing to do with your lukewarm hot chocolate as you watched him slide up the bench for his next shift.

You looked up at the jumbotron. There were only 12 minutes left in the second period, and the game was still tied at 1-1.

What were you going to do if he scored four goals?

What were you going to do if he didn't? felt like the more pressing question. He was running out of time. If something didn't happen now, he would have one period left to score 3 goals, and that was simply not going to happen. I shouldn't have made the number so high you thought guiltily.

Your eyes glanced back to the ice as he clambered over the boards in the midst of a shift change. He was skating methodically, not slower, but maybe more strategically and you were sure his energy was waning even if it didn't look like it.

Suddenly, Nick picked the puck off an opponent and Rafe raced to skate with him, crossing into the offensive zone with several of their teammates. Nick had a wide open shot, and he brought his stick back for a slapshot before turning at the very last moment and passing to Rafe who had positioned himself near the goalie. The puck banked off his stick and ricocheted into the goal.

You were on your feet again, jumping up and down in Morgan's arms as the boys piled onto each other. The crowd was alive again as the team took a 2-1 lead, 5 minutes left now in the second period.

Morgan looked at you, shaking her head before shouting something you couldn't hear over the crowd. You shook your head back before she leaned in closer.

"Is Nick in on this shit?" she yelled.

You looked at her, confused.

"Why else wouldn't he take that shot? It was wide open."

The idea of Rafe recruiting his best friend and linemate into this made you lightheaded and giddy. As you looked back at the bench, the two of them were shoulder to shoulder, looking right at you and Nick waved, a goofy little smile on his face for the briefest of seconds before his attention returned to the game.

Period 2: Eagles winning. 2-1.

The period ended and you spent the last intermission glued to your seat as everyone around you got up to get food and drinks, your mind spinning.

One period. Twenty minutes left for Rafe to score 2 goals. It was still nearly impossible, but didn't feel as insurmountable as before and you still weren't sure what you wanted the outcome to be. You were staring into middle space, questioning your entire relationship when your phone buzzed again in your cupholder. You swiped it open.

Two hearts.

Two goals.

You smiled widely, rolling your eyes before giggling like a little girl. You wanted to respond, and your fingers lingered over your screen, but he still had no business being on his phone, and what could you possibly say anyway?? "Nevermind!! Let's get back together despite all the shit you put me through!"

Ugh.

The third period was simultaneously the slowest and quickest 20 minutes of your life.

Rafe was battling, and the other team battled back, getting chippier and chippier as the teams exchanged penalties and breakaways, but the score stayed the same. You could feel the crowd's excitement at the prospect of scraping through this game with a one-goal lead; a good enough result to make them happy, but you couldn't deny the disappointment you felt as you were playing an entirely different game.

As time whittled down you felt yourself getting emotional as the odds were stacked against Rafe, stacked against both of you. Ten minutes. Eight. Five. Three. You could feel the familiar burn of tears behind your eyes as your foot continued to tap, eyes glancing anxiously between Rafe, the bench, the players and the jumbotron that counted down the time unceasingly.

Morgan reached for you, winding her arm around yours and grabbing your hand, a sad smile on her lips. You both knew this wasn't going to happen. There was just no way. You could sense that Rafe could feel it too, he was getting more and more desperate, scrambling after the puck, making sloppy mistakes that made you feel guilty, the most so when the other team scored… tying the game.

And then what felt like the final twist of the knife: with less than 1 minute left, they scored again, capitalizing on the dashed morale of the Eagles to take the lead 3-2. It was like someone sucked the air out of the arena. Rafe was on the ice, on his knees and all of the players looked so defeated.

Fuck fuck fuck was all you could think as they regrouped with their coach to come up with their last play, their last chance to tie the game. You leaned forward, desperately trying to read lips as if you could somehow decipher the plan. The ref blew the whistle and the coach sent guys on the ice, leaving Rafe behind, and your stomach dropped: he wasn't even going to get a chance.

Rafe argued and you could see him yelling and gesturing wildly as the coach yelled back. The ref blew the whistle again and you knew they were dangerously close to getting a delay of game penalty. A ripple of confusion went through the crowd as they watched the argument unfold and you wished you could sink into your seat and disappear.

The coach shouted something that seemed final before Rafe took one look at him, ignored him and skated onto the ice, swapping with Nick who slid onto the bench, head bowed, ashamed, as the coach berated him.

At this point, Rafe had been on the ice way longer than he should have, he was making mistakes, and now he was putting his career, his contract on the line as he stepped up to take the faceoff.

The puck dropped and the battle ensued as the teams fought back and forth. Their team took a shot on goal that had you holding your breath as the time ticked down.

There were less than 20 seconds left as the puck rebounded towards Rafe and he guided it with his stick, taking off down the ice faster than you'd ever seen him skate; in just three strides he had nearly covered the length of the rink, leaving all of the other players trailing behind him as he squared off with the goalie.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" the crowd shouted.

You were on your feet, grasping Morgan's arm for dear life, certain you were leaving a mark as you continued to hold your breath.

Rafe shot the puck and it hit the goalie's leg pad, but bounded right back to him.

"Three! Two!"

He shot again and the goalie fell forward, but the crowd behind the goalie erupted and the official lit the lamp behind the goal - he had scored.

The puck had slid between the goalie's legs and Rafe exploded with energy, ripping down the ice and jumping into the glass in front of you as his team piled on top of him and the crowd went ballistic as fans threw their hats onto the ice to celebrate his hat trick - three goals scored.

You were jumping and screaming with the other girls, a few tears escaping your eyes in relief and excitement, overwhelmed at the entire situation.

Three goals.

He'd scored three damn goals, a new career record for him. And now they were in overtime.

Period 3: Game tied 3-3. End of regulation play.

"Wait! Wait! What the hell happens now!?" Morgan asked breathless, looking to you as the only girl that knew a thing about the rules.

"Overtime" you huffed, trying to calm yourself. "Another 20 minutes, first team to score wins."

"Was that part of the deal?" she asked.

"It wasn't not part of the deal?" you said. "We didn't really get into specifics" you laughed, rolling your eyes.

You glanced at the bench as both teams hydrated and listened to the coaches. Rafe's teammates were still all over him, smacking his helmet, arms slung around him. The coach said something to him and he put his hands up in surrender as he sat on the bench and his teammates took the ice.

Your eyes were glued to Rafe but unlike before his didn't meet yours and for a second, you didn't know how to take that. You craved that acknowledgement from him, but you also recognized the look on his face; he was totally 100% focused, eyes fixed on the action on the ice. He wants to win you thought. Or maybe his focus was for something else.

Within a few minutes, his line was up and they jumped on the ice. He was playing smart now, conservative, concentrated and gathered, a stark difference from before. He was strong on defense, backing his team up as they played perfectly off of each other, which paid off when Nick stole the puck and shouted as he passed the puck up the boards to Rafe who sprinted after it, just a stride in front of a defender.

"Oh my god" you heard Morgan mutter as everyone stood to their feet and even though the roar of the crowd was deafening, you swore you could hear every scrape of Rafe's skate against the ice, the clatter of the puck as the play moved in slow motion to the beat of your heart.

Another stride and Rafe was alone in the offensive zone, the defender just a hair behind him.

Was this really happening? Was he about to end the game, to score a fourth goal?

Another stride and he was eyeing the goalie, lining up his shot.

He maneuvered his stick and just as he was about to shoot, the defender dove, thrusting his stick in Rafe's path, causing them both to tumble onto the ice and into the goalie, the puck sliding away, abandoned as the refs blew their whistles. No goal.

Rafe was down for only a second before he stood up, grabbed his stick and swung it with full force, snapping it in half over the boards in front of him in rage and frustration, causing the fans behind the glass to jump and spill their beer on each other.

Two of the refs were frantically skating towards him, waving their arms and blowing their whistles, but your eyes drifted to the head referee who was standing next to the officials box, watching a small computer screen, a replay. Almost immediately he nodded, handed back the screen and raised his fisted hands over his head and crossed them and you let out an uncontrollable shout of excitement as you grabbed for Morgan.

"What! Oh my god! What is going on!!?" she shouted back, and all you could do was laugh and shout as you jumped up and down and pointed to the referee.

"You are the ONLY ONE HERE who knows what that means!" she shouted. "What does it mean!!!?"

"A PENALTY SHOT!" you shouted back.

Your eyes shot back to Rafe who had clocked the same thing and was skating back to the bench. The equipment manager handed him a new stick and now the arena was abuzz with the same information as the announcer explained that Rafe would have the chance to score one on one against the goalie, with all of the other players off the ice. A golden opportunity.

The fans were ballistic. You could barely hear yourself think, could barely process your emotions as you struggled onto your tiptoes again to see over the raised hands and jumping fans as Rafe skated methodically to center ice, alone.

He skated back and forth, side to side with crisp turns like a predatory shark before he stopped at center ice, hands on his stick on his knees, eyeing the goalie before his head turned slowly and he looked right at you. Even amidst the chaos, you could see his signature smirk before he refocused and gathered the puck in his stick.

He was going to score.

You just knew it. You knew by the look on his face, by the stride of his skates, by the confidence in his gait.

"He's going to score" you said out loud, quietly, to yourself, a revelation before you turned to Morgan who was solely focused on the scene unfolding on the ice. You tugged on her sleeve, desperate for her to understand the weight of what you had just said.

"He's going to score, Morgan" you said, louder, matter-of-factly.

"Well SHIT I hope so!!!!" she shouted back without looking at you, now completely wrapped up in the game.

She didn't understand.

He was going to score.

And that meant he was going to be yours again.

Your eyes found the ice and you watched as he approached the goalie, goading him out of the goal, faking him out before wrapping the puck around his leg and tipping it upward.

The goalie dove backwards at the last minute and 15,000 fans held their breath as his gloved hand extended, brushing the edge of the puck, causing it to wobble, but without enough force to change the course of fate as the puck swooshed into the net.

The goal lamp lit up.

The goal horn sounded.

And if you thought the arena was loud before, it reached a new level as fans screamed, shouted, jumped up and down and embraced each other.

You felt realization ripple over you, your gaze stuck on the ice. Stuck on the image of the goalie flat on his back, defeated. Stuck to Rafe who had ripped his helmet off, discarded as he let out a roar of victory before getting bombarded by his teammates who piled on him in celebration.

End of OT. Eagles win 4-3.

Morgan yanked you into her by your shoulders, hugging you and jumping up and down, but an unexplainable calm had settled over you, gluing your feet to the ground.

You should be excited, you were, but instead you felt like you were having an out-of-body experience. What the hell had just happened? Rafe had scored four goals, had led his team to the finals. Had he done it for himself? Of course. But wasn't a part of it for you too?

You turned and looked back at the ice, desperate to catch his eye, to talk to him, to figure this out as chaos rained around you. The players skated to center ice with their sticks raised to salute the fans before skating away, Rafe leading them quickly into the tunnel without so much as a look at you. Not even a cheeky smile or a blown kiss, which you used to get after every game. What the fuck.

Morgan shook your shoulder.

"Babes, now what?!" she asked, excited, curious, anxious.

You looked at her, lost. You had no idea. Did you text him? Were you just back together again? How did this work?

The lights dimmed as the announcer drew the crowd back in to introduce the three stars of the game - recognizing the three standout players of the night. The third star was your goalie, who stopped an unimaginable number of shots and you cheered for him as he skated solo onto the ice in a spotlight, taking a spin around the ice before tossing a t-shirt into the crowd to an excited fan.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, your mind incapable of thinking of anything but Rafe. You grabbed your phone. No new texts. The players were all in the locker room by now. Sure, they were partying and celebrating, but if he had time to text you in the middle of the game, couldn't he text you now??

Nick was the second star of the game and you glanced up from your phone to see him doing the familiar skate around the ice, waving to Morgan who blew him a kiss back, but you glanced back at your phone, willing a text to appear, opening and closing your texts, refreshing the app, messing with your wifi. Surely it was the internet connection you thought, now desperate to hear from him.

"Come on Cameron" you murmured to yourself.

"Okay, what is he doing?" you heard Morgan laugh and you looked down to the ice to see Nick still circling around, backwards, forwards, pumping up the crowd who roared around him as he gathered a t-shirt to throw. You were thrilled for him, really, but you resumed your focus on your phone. Should I turn it off and turn it back on again? you thought.

The lights dimmed further and the deep voice of the announcer reverberated, "Ladies and gentlemen, your first star of the game, with an unprecedented four goals, including your game winner--"

"Uhhh YN" you heard Morgan say.

But you were too distracted, too afraid to look away from your phone in case you missed a text coming through.

"--Rafe Cameron!!!" the announcer said, the spotlight shining on the tunnel, and your eyes shot up at the sound of his name, only to find the ice empty.

You felt Morgan tug harshly on your sleeve and when you finally looked back to her your stomach barrel-rolled and your heart shot into your throat.

Standing unmistakably next to her in the aisle was Rafe, still fully suited in his gear and pads, towering over everyone like a giant, his skates traded for his training shoes. Pieces of his hair were clinging to his forehead and his face was rosy with exertion, sweat dripping down his temple in rivulets.

He was smiling confidently at you, and unlike the last time you had seen him in your car, his eyes were unwavering and transfixed on yours, even when the fans around you turned around and noticed he was there, even when phones were whipped out and shouts and cheers went up, he ignored them; he only had eyes for you.

"How--" you started to say, your phone completely forgotten as he started to nudge his way past the people at the end of your row to walk fully into the seats next to you.

"Ohmygod, ohymgod" Morgan was saying as she clambered out of the way of his bulky frame and suddenly he was towering in front of you.

He was breathing heavily; with how quickly he made it up here it was no wonder he had been sprinting off the ice and into the tunnel. His face searched yours, eyes twinkling, flitting over your lips, searching for a sign, a signal, a hint of how you were feeling. And you weren't sure you could have expressed it even if you could form words.

He leaned down next to your ear and you could feel the sweat and the heat radiating off of him.

"That was four" he said, breathless and husky before pulling back, but not as far as before, his nose brushing yours.

The spotlight was sweeping the empty ice, looking for him as the announcer tried awkwardly to fill the air time, wondering where he was.

All you could do was meet his gaze, staring into his crystal blue eyes.

And all you could see was your Rafe.

Sure, he had his issues, but you knew he was sincere, you knew he was trying and you acknowledged that despite everything he was probably the love of your life.

"We didn't agree on overtime goals" you said loudly back at him to be heard over the crowd.

For a moment you could see fear, panic and a hint of hurt cross his face; if you didn't know him as well as you did you wouldn't have seen it, it was nearly indetectable. But he took one look at your sly smile, your blushing cheeks, your eyes rimmed with tears.

"C'mere" he said roughly, ignoring you as his warm and sweaty hands that smelled unmistakably like his gloves grabbed your face and pulled you towards him as his lips enveloped yours, engulfing you, bold, brazen and completely unabashed as he full on made out with you, chaotically, his tongue slipping into your mouth, even when you tried to wiggle away, more out of a sense of decorum than anything as a feeling seeped through every inch of you like he was mending every wound in your body.

He was sweating all over you at this point, but you didn't care. You could feel it dripping on you. You could taste it in his kiss, mixed with the tang of yellow gatorade and your fingers grasped for purchase on his jersey as you tried to balance yourself against the force of him pressing into you.

The crowd around you erupted, as the flash of pictures being taken lit the two of you. He was unrelenting and you could feel yourself flushing as much from his attention as from the heat radiating off of him. It definitely went on longer than it should have, longer than any right-minded couple would have made out in front of thousands of fans before he paused just long enough, his lips still hovering on yours and said through a growl, "You're mine, baby."

taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444, @rafescurtainbangz, @romiiq, @dkjndfnmdfmdmnd, @warriorblu, @ietss, @tiaamberxx, @zyafics, @maybankslover, @saintchxx4, @akirkland, @cameronspecial, @f4ll-for-you, @diduzzula, @user123453226780536, @zizuras, @imabigback, @rowans-posts, @mymultiveres, @drewsphswife, @fangirlwithlou

[detentiontrack]

Now I’m going to be so brave and pull out of this scary parking lot

[st7rnioioss]

heyyy so i was watching a matt edit and it was to the song come through by the weekend and i was wondering if you could make a smut inspired by that song please :) i love ur work!!!! thank you

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ come thru

chris sturniolo x reader

warning: SMUT, p in v, fingering, mentions of edging, creampie, breeding kink kinda?, degradation, dirty talk, toxic relationship, BAD aftercare. smut w no plot

a/n: HELP i really hope i understood what this song about. busy famous dude who doesnt want a proper relationship. anyways, THANK YOU SO MUCH AND TY FOR THE REQUEST🤍🤍

not proofread!

i just realized i accidentally made this into a chris fic, forgive me please

౨ৎ

"Just put it in a ponytail, fuck 'em from behind Fuck 'em with their clothes on, panties to the side Put the panties to the side, like a don do"

Chris and I’s relationship was.. special. Friends with benefits if you may. It all started when Chris suddenly got a lot of fame for doing YouTube videos with his brothers. Me and Chris were good friends. I started spending less and less time with him, but after one tiny slip-up (aka, fucking in his friends bedroom) at a party, we’ve been hooking up whenever he wasn’t too busy.

One day went something like this:

‘Chris, are you free right now? I’m home alone.’ I texted him, waiting in my empty house for him. I knew he was done filming by now. ‘I’m on my way.’ he answered a minute later. It didn’t take long for his car to park in the driveway of my house. He basically barged in, and without a word I was pinned to the front door, hickeys starting to appear down my neck and collarbone. I had repeatedly told Chris we should stop what we were doing due to his career, but he turned it down, telling me ‘how much he loves me’ and ‘how he just couldn’t get enough of me’. I didn’t complain though, I just didn’t want our situationship to ruin his worklife.

The hickeys by the front door quickly turned into my back against my bed, pants discarded on the floor. “Such a slut, hm? Letting me finger you, panties to the side.” he shook his head with an amused smirk, repeatedly fucking his fingers up into my aching core. Occasionally he’d curl his fingers, adding a thumb to rub hard but slow circles against my clit. “Chris, please- I need you,” I begged. I felt so pathetic. Still fully clothed beside my sweatpants that were resting on the floor. Chris only found the view fantastic. “Get on all fours.” Chris’s voice rasped as he withdrew his fingers from my pussy. I don’t mean to overreact, but I could cry from frustration. Ever since he carried me to my room, he’s been edging me, making me a dripping, and begging mess for him. I quickly compiled, turning around to get on my knees and hands. I felt Chris shift from behind me, looking back to find him pulling his pants down, just so his cock could spring free from his pants. He leaned down to get a sight of my soaked pussy, glistening from the dim lights in my room. “So fucking wet for me..” he murmured, letting his thumb slide down my folds, pushing my panties to the side to get a better view. “Chris, just shut the fuck up,” I whimpered, begging for him to let me be released after having been edged for so long, on top of thinking about him every second of the day. “Watch the attitude or I’ll make sure to fuck some senses into you,” Chris grunted, leaning back to get a hold of his cock, teasingly aligning it with my folds, making sure to keep my panties on. Slowly, he pushed forward, eliciting a quiet moan from me. He stopped for a moment before pulling almost all the way out, pushing in again.

It always made his ego skyrocket when I winced in pain from the strech of his cock, maybe even moan, just from the sight of discomfort on my face. “Holy fuck.. ‘swear to God, you were made for me,” Chris moaned in unison with me. A hand slid from my waist up my back, getting a hold of my hair. Swiftly, he wrapped my hair around his hand in a makeshift ponytail, pulling my head backward to let his lips whisper into my ear. “You like that? Pulling your hair back?” he smirked, knowing he couldn’t get a proper sentence out of me. With those words he only went faster, pushing my head down to make me arch my back instinctively. In response, he only got a few incomprehensible words, moaning and whimpering as his thrusts hardened and quickened. Suddenly I felt the knot in my stomach tighten and snap, cumming unexpectedly. “Chris, I-” I whimpered, getting more and more overstimulated by the second.d “Shut the fuck up. You’re lucky I even consider fucking you on a daily basis. Y’know how many girls would die to be in your position?” he groaned, feeling himself about to reach his high as well. I didn’t answer, mostly out of overstimulation. Chris could cum from my reflection in the mirror alone. The slightest bit of drool hanging from the corner of my parted lips, brows furrowed, eyes closed. A sight for sore eyes. “Chris, I’m gonna cum again..” I managed to mumble out, falling onto my elbows instead of my palms, making Chris unintentionally hit a spot way deeper than before. “Holy shit, Chris!” I moaned, letting myself cum around him once again. Chris wasn’t too far behind himself. To be fair, he’s been holding back for a while. He pulled me by my makeshift ponytail once again, making me groan in both pleasure and pain. “Gonna fill you up so nicely. I’ll make sure nothing leaks out, ‘might even have to cockwarm you if that’s the case. What do you think? Should I keep myself buried inside you?” Chris couldn’t stop groaning from just the thought of it. He only asked these questions to drive me crazy, knowing I couldn't form a proper sentence. Instead, he left me moaning, overstimulated, and tears threatening to spill. The thought of his dick staying inside of me, pushing his release deeper inside of me made me slightly fuzzy, arms buckling. “Chris, please. I-It’s too much..” I whimpered, a single tear rolling down my cheek. With a groan, Chris thrusted a few more times before letting him finish inside of me, making sure not to pull out.

After making sure I was doing alright, he pulled his pants up, pressing a kiss to my forehead while mumbling a quick ‘I’ll see you tomorrow’ as he left with his jacket under his arm.

a/n: hi chat. i found out this week that a whole lot of people i know have been shittalking me and making up rumors LMAOPOO. anyways, i rlly hope u like this, and thank you so so much again ahh ilyy🤍🤍 sorry if this is complete ass, im tired as fuck

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt @gwenloremain @k-l-a-w-s

[ilovejeongintoo]

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕃𝕒𝕟𝕖

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Enemies to Lovers?, Racer Seonghwa x afab Reader Warning: Betting!, Illegal Racing!, Posessiveness! Overstimulation!, Fingering (fem rec.), Squirting Wordcount: 3810 Not proofread

Racer Seonghwa has been living in my mind rent free, that's it.

Summary: Your journalism career is hitting a slump and as a last resort you decide to interview famous underground racer Seonghwa, he doesn't seem too keen on making it easy though.

You slammed your car door as you step out, absolutely fed up. Nothing has been working your favor lately, nothing has been happening in this city, making it nearly impossible to cover any stories for your local newspaper. People weren't interested in reading about the parking lots at the mall being renewed.

People wanted to read something that's new, something exciting. Your boss had been nagging you about the articles that had been released under your guidance, he had made your whole team turn a blind eye, when you were tasked with writing a new one (that better be satisfactory, or else)

With basically nothing to lose you decided, if he wanted a story, he would get one, one that people would remember for weeks maybe even months to come.

So here you were with your little tote bag with you notepad and a few random pens shoved in. Your source had said that this place is in charge for a few secret racing events. Racing, something that noone had ever covered on paper, at least the underground kind. It was deemed too dangerous to get any interviews or even shots of said races. At least this wasn't some car spectacle but peole with motorbikes were stood all around.

Countless ones, there had to be at least 50 people just gathered here near the empty streets. You could tell that not many prefered to come out here on their own time, the location situated on top the citys high crime site. It was surprinsingly bright for a area that people described as the scariest part of Kuroyama.

The orange neon signs illuminated all the random posters and little shops that ran along the streets.

You weren't here for just an article about some underground motorbike affair. You were here for a specific thing, or more like specific individual.

Known on the streets as "Mars" he's one of the most renowed and admired for his capabilities. Cutting lanes and curves so thight that he gave off a supernatual kind of strength.

Though people feared him more than idolized him, as rumors said that he was in close quarters with illegal fights before this and got his support from his earlier connections.

You were here to finally get some light on him, as the population was highly interested in the danger of "Mars".

You were walking around the place trying to spot him anywhere, his bike is the only his own symbol of importance and had others looking out for.

You were looking for exactly that, other bikers gave you lingering stares that clearly told you how out of place you looked. The coat and skirt did nothing to hide the typical journalist uniformity and you cursed you chief for implementing said thing.

Before long you heard some hooping and yelling in the distance and knew immediately who it was. You pushed through the crowd that had gathered and almost flew on your face. When you were at the front you were greeted by a long figure. Helmet on, orange-black racing gear covered him. A planet symbol that ran across his arm and the same one on his bike had you confirming his identity even more. He waved at a few people clearly enjoying the attention and drove slowly to a designated spot on the concrete, it was outlined with his color.

People seemed to get the hint and back of a little, some men just as tall as the man of the hour came up to him though and started talking with him.

He adjusted his gloves and some things on his outfit, pulling his zipper down a little and revealing a black wifebeater underneath. You guessed those outfits came with the disadvantage of getting hot even in the night.

When those men also dispersed in multiple directions and he was finally left alone, you decided to walk up to him. Slow steps, boots clicking he looked up when you were right in front of him. Right away talking rather dismissively: "I don't do autographs, no matter how much or what you offer me." He waved you off a little, you got your business card out and thrusted it right into his face, a little annoyed that he mistook you as one of his fans.

You wouldn't approach him if it wasn't for your job. Before he could get another word out "I'm not here for an autograph, I'm here for some questions."

You couldn't gauge his reaction because of the helmet but he tilted his head a little at your statement.

"What are you? The police? I don't answer questions if they don’t benefit me in some kind of way sweets."

The helmet was starting to annoy you and the name that he gave you, just ticked you off. "Look I'm sure that you could use the publicity, at least it would be more of the positive kind."

He continued looking at you, waiting for your next argument to somehow convince him. Clearly, he wasn't satisfied with that. You decided this was where you would have to use your trump card already.

"I know that this underground scene is exhilarating for you, but legal racing would make you more money, much safer."

"That's something you want, to get out of this illegal ring that you've been caught in and I'm here to help you with that"

It grew oddly quiet. "You know absolutely nothing about what I want." The teasing lilt from before was entirely gone, replaced with a cold and sharp voice.

"You need to move along, I’ll forget this conversation happened and you leave."

There was no way that you were just going to leave like this, without anything. After coming all this way.

Before he could even turn his engine on to drive away from you, you grabbed him by the collar of his undershirt making him to make you next point.

A lot more harsher than was probably necessary you got in his face. "I don't know what kind of complexes you're dealing with, but I'm your ticket out of here, I don't know if your head is so far up your ass that you can't see that or if you're choosing to ignore it."

"Do what you want, but I was here, giving you the chance to make it big in the racing industry."

You let go, making him slump back onto his vehicle. You knew it wouldn't be easy but straight up being rejected without a second thought left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You would have to think of a different topic now. You sighed before turning away, already walking back to your car.

After a few steps, you heard that voice call out to you from behind. "Hey! Okay, wait!" That made you stop and turn around. You were expecting some kind of insult now, you mentally prepared for it. He reached up to the strap of his helmet, clasping it open and pushing it off his head. Shaking his head slightly to fix his hair and then he looked right at you.

Dark eyes, sharp eyes and an even sharper nose. Raven hair styled away from his face. You were momentarily distracted by the unexpected appearance, he didn't look much older than you, mid-twenties maybe.

"Okay, let's make a deal" He fully stepped off his bike, leaving his helmet back and making his way towards you. "If you still think that I'm such a person by the end of this race, I'll grant you lil wish and let you interview me" He gestured a little to himself and the lanes behind himself.

"Your little claim of me quote on quote "making it big" better be true" He threw up some quotation marks with his hands, he walked towards his back again with his back turned to me, sitting on top of it again.

"Cuz, you'll need it, you'll get a lot of backlash for this" I interrupted him before he could give another one of his smart comments. "I already decided that I wanted this, anything negative that happens after this all, I'll consider it to not be part of it" "Right" His response was dragged out a bit, like he didn't quite believe me.

"I'm Park Seonghwa, Mars is the name I use for my fans but you're not a fan of mine."

"I'm not"

He smirked, pulling his protection gear back on. Getting ready for the race. I watched him drive off a bit further along the road, getting in line with a few others and doing some final checks on his things. I moved myself from my rooted position to get to the viewer stage, that gave me sight of the lane. It seemed fairly simple, you drive the course three times and placing as high as you could.

You didn't know what to expect from Seonghwa, never having seen him actually drive. You had only heard stories about it up until this point.

When the start signal was received by the drivers, they accelerated straight away, making some stay further back and others taking the lead up front.

Seonghwa was right in the middle, everything seemed normal up until the last round. When you noticed some guys near Seonghwa driving a little too close to him, any person would think that would be a cause for concern.

One guy wanted Seonghwa out of the competition, picking his foot up and delivering a swift kick to the side of Seonghwa’s bike. It shook the vehicle quite a bit, almost making you think that it would swerve and crash.

This was when you wrapped your head around the fact that this wasn't your average sports channel show. This was it, this was the underground world, nothing here would be fair.

Seonghwa recovered rather fast, seemingly used to this kind of trickery. He moved his body further onto his bike, almost laying down on it. The next curve would decide if he could still make it to first place, any later and he wouldn't make it. He leaned his body down, his one knee scrapping the concrete below and making the turn as tight as possible, overtaking anyone that cut it in a wide way. It successfully landed him just behind a guy in first place. Your heart was racing, they were barely a few hundred yards away from the finish line.

Seonghwa, accelerated even more, however that was possible. The other dude seemed to notice him now, quickly looking behind himself and panicking when he saw who it was. They were right next to each other now; you couldn't tell who would win from the sight alone.

Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your own ears, making a drumroll for the results of this.

Just a few moments from the line away, Seonghwa gradually started overtaking him. Little by little the distance grew, until he crossed. Cheers erupted all around you, people jumping up and spilling their drinks. Your eyes were as wide in shock and astonishment, you were thinking that he was definitely more talk than game. Seonghwa came to a stop after a while there, taking his helmet off and running to the group of guys from the start. Getting crushed in a group hug and overall being very happy.

The other losers watched a little in disappointment at their failure to win or even sabotage the chances of him winning. He disconnected himself from the group and looked around, searching for something, when his eyes locked onto you stepping off the viewing stage.

Waltzing up to you with an air of confidence. "Still wanna interview me sweets?" His voice rang out, in all of its smugness.

You couldn't help but break a smile, getting dragged into the cheery atmosphere. "Absolutely, now even more that I know that the Park Seonghwa is a true winner."

"Alright, I'll do the interview, but I need you to promise something for me, consider it lending a helping hand, okay?"

He steeled himself "I need you to vouch for the safety of my brothers." He pointed his gaze to the group of men standing behind and watching the interaction between the two you.

His gaze was a lot softer, almost sentimental. Definitely not something you would expect from him.

You became stunned at that, whatever kept him in this dangerous had to do with protecting his family. Whatever it was didn't matter too much to you, you came here to get a story but now you had made it your mission to help him. Even with his difficult demeanor. "I promise." He relaxed at that. Before long you could soak in the relaxed air, another voice came from a few feet away, one of the guys that tried to make Seonghwa lose.

"What the hell was that huh Mars?!" "We had a deal that you'd lose"

What? Wait hold on.

Seonghwa didn’t break the eye contact with you, speaking to you but addressing what the man just said.

"The deal's off, I'm quitting here" He ripped the symbol off his jacket, throwing it at the dude.

"You- You were supposed to lose, this is gonna make us lose a lot of money. Boss won't be happy." He was in disbelief at the nonchalant air around him.

Like this was just a normal occurrence to him. Unimpressed Seonghwa spun himself to finally look at the man. "That's not my problem anymore" he faced you and took you by the hand, heading right for his bike. You were dragged and almost spilled you bag on the floor.

"Seonghwa what-, what are you doing?" You questioned him with furrowed eyebrows, he pulled his helmet over your head successfully ignoring your question.

He sat down pulling you towards him more and grabbed your thigh, signaling you to swing your legs over the machine. Which you did, although reluctantly. He grabbed your forearms with both hands and wrapped them around himself. You could feel the hard muscle underneath but before you could fantasize, he presses on the gas, smoke cloud coming out from under the wheel and before he drove off.

You could faintly hear the man from before yelling at Seonghwa to stop but it was quickly fading away when Seonghwa drove onto the main roads.

You squeezed him a little tighter out of fear, it was one thing to see him driving from afar, being in the middle of the action was absolutely terrifying.

He slowed the pace, sensing your anxiety. He put his hand over one of yours and clutched it tightly against him, trying to comfort you.

"Relax, I'm not gonna let you fall off"

You knew that hell he could probably operate down a mountain, and you would be totally fine. Your butt was starting to hurt from the constant pressure, and you told him to go to the side from here and let you hop off for a bit.

He pulled up to a small alleyway, planning to hide in case someone was following him, which you really doubted.

You stepped off and immediately relaxed onto a nearby wall, sitting down on the concrete there, pulling your legs to your chest. "I like the helmet on you, fits you." He said against the cool air. He leaned against his machine after turning the key in the ignition. You looked up at him through the thin glass, making everything look darker than it actually. You took it off, even after the weird compliment.

"I can see why you enjoy speeding down roads like that, gets your heart racing." Yours still hadn't calmed, though that might be for a different reason now, when you looked at Seonghwa.

His charisma was undeniable, his looks, the confidence, everything made him so much more attractive. And the equally contradicting duality, the split second where you saw him soften up.

It made you gulp in realization.

You dragged your eyes up his form, from his leather boots to the matching leather pants, followed up with that jacket that was now fully unzipped, up to his face.

He already had his gaze on yours "Take a picture, it lasts longer." He couldn't go two seconds without being insufferable it seemed. You stood up feeling more awake now and the pain in your butt lessened. You marched over to him, fully intent on leaving as fast as possible. He halted you when he stepped in your way, while you were trying to go around him.

It almost made you bump into his chest. "Oh, come on, I was just joking, you're just fun to tease sweets." He grinned from ear to ear, pretty teeth and grills on display.

"Stop calling me that."

"What?"

"Sweets, I don't know what made you think that that would be an appropriate name for me"

"Maybe I don't want it to be appropriate between us" He watched you with a dark gaze, caressing your hand that was hanging besides your body.

He moved his eyes from yours to your lips and then back up again. "You know… I still haven't gotten my price from winning. I think you could help me with that, no?" It was painfully obvious what he meant by that, and you would have been lying if you said you weren't interested.

Your work not giving you any time for any sexual endeavors and leaving you frustrated, maybe that's why you were so on edge today. "Yeah, I could do that" Your lids falling shut a little as breathy whisper escaped you and you leaned in to lock your lips together.

Pillowy that’s how they felt, and it sent a good spark of electricity down your spine. You threaded your hands into his styled hair messing it up more than any helmet could.

He too you by the waist and spun you around making your butt hit the bike a little. He wrapped his fingers around your thighs, lifting you up and setting you down on it, stepping right between your spread legs.

He moved one hand down still kissing you, making you lose your breath. He reached the waistband of your skirt and then he moved further not bothering to take it off. He pushed your panties onto your core a few times, massaging the sensitive flesh and the roughness of the fabric provided a delicious feeling.

You let out some quiet moans that were swallowed by Seonghwa’s mouth. He dragged the fabric down your legs pulling one leg up a little to get it off and let them rest on your ankle. Your legs naturally spread more with one leg propped up.

He groaned when he pulled away from you and looked down, your core glistening in your own juices. He attached his gloved fingers to you immediately, going up and down your slit a few times before he inserted two fingers into you. You easily took them, groaning and taking ahold of his shoulder with one hand and the other rested on the seat.

He pumped them in and out, in, out, the most repetitive motion but each time he got a little deeper. Those long fingers hitting your g-spot inside and scissoring your walls apart.

He didn't take his eyes off your pussy even once, completely entranced by the sight of you swallowing his fingers. When he added a third finger, you almost came on the spot. The leather on his hand made it so much more filthy, so much louder. He grinded the heel of his hand on your clit, watching you with a satisfied smile.

"Omg, Hwa-Seonghwa, I c-can't" You lost the words on your tongue, not being able to voice out your thoughts.

You were a garbled mess now, hair askew, sweat on your neck and face completely uncaring of being in a public setting. He just continued, making your toes finally curl and your body seize up. Your head going white for a few seconds.

"Yes, you can" he thrusted his fingers more, one thumb coming up to play with your clit, making you hypersensitive.

After a while he slowed the speed of his thrusts, working his wrist a little slower but not stopping.

Holy shit, he's not for real right now.

Your eyes rolled back a little.

You were no stranger for a little bit of kinky sex but getting overstimulated wasn't on your list of experiences. Though you weren't complaining in the least. Enjoying the way your slick leaked out onto your legs and the seat. Seonghwa's whole hand and wrist was wet.

"Give me another sweets, just one more." It was almost said in a begging kind of way. He angled his fingers even deeper into you, picking the speed of his thrusts up, slow, soft fingers on your clit. You were starting to feel like you were dying or floating?

You let out your loudest moan when Seonghwa dropped to his knees, hitting dirt, and attaching his mouth to your clit. Kissing and licking getting anything and everything in his mouth. Those same soft lips felt even softer on your pussy. It was making you clench and build up to your orgasm incredibly fast. He looked up into your eyes and you took the hand that you had on his shoulder off and dropped it onto his head, gripping his hair for dear life.

One more swipe of his tongue and you were bursting like a broken water dam. Squirting onto his face and tongue. Screaming your lungs out in a long almost pornographic moan.

He pushed his fingers up three or four times, making sure to pull the last bits of your sanity out of you. And just when it started to become too sensitive he stopped, pulling his fingers out of you.

And popping them…

into his mouth.

He groaned a little at the taste of you, the sight definitely straight out of your fantasies. Maybe this was one of them, part of your fantasy, your imagination.

"See, you could do it, good job" He caressed your hips, grabbing the flesh in a possessive kind of way and kissing your cheek. Which was strangely sweet, given what he showed you a moment ago.

He caressed your head, combing some hair back into place. "Let's get you home sweets." You were out of it, you barely registered what he said.

He drove you home with you clinging onto his back even more than before. The night ended with him leaving a passionate kiss onto you lips and a quick squeeze to your ass, your phone number now saved for future "interviews".

When he walked off, back to his bike from your doorstep he spun something quite familiar on his finger, your panties.

Waving them around like a price and then tucking them into his pants. And driving off looking incredibly smug.

[gojossocks]

Gossips and Convenience Stores

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Summary: just some jjk first years gossiping lmao. Implied that Geto didn’t turn batshit crazy and killed a lot of people.

a/n: this is probably an epilogue to a series I’ve been wanting to write for a while. lmk if you guys liked it ! <33

“I wonder when Gojo-sensei will ask Y/N-sensei out.” Nobara asks, before taking a bite of her onigiri.

Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi were all sitting together in an empty parking lot outside a convenience store, something that has become a routine after a tiring mission.

It’s midnight. Most of the diners are closed and the only store open was the 7/11, just a few blocks away from Jujutsu High.

“It’s kinda annoying,” She continued. “Every time I see that damned teacher around her, he gets more annoying. That’s a given since he’s more annoying than when he’s with Geto-sensei. If that’s his way of flirting then I don’t think he could ever pull her.”

Megumi snorts at Nobara’s keen observation. “I’m surprised you noticed that.”

She rolls her eyes before glaring at Megumi, “How could I not? Even our principal notices it. Hell, even Yuuji knows it. Right?!” She turned to look at Yuuji, who shrugged mindlessly while eating his noodles.

“I don’t know, he does talk about her all the time. Whenever I ask what’s their history or whatever, he says they were long time friends.”

Megumi snorted at the statement, earning a look from his classmates.

“What’s that look you got, Fushiguro?” Nobara accuses him. He replies with a hum.

Nobara sighs before clicking her tongue. “Anyway, I know you know a lot about those two because Maki-san told me you basically grew up with having them around. Besides, he always asks you to bring pizza for Y/N-sensei. I think it was an unrequited thing, don’t you think? I mean she’s way out of his league if you ask me.” She says confidently.

Megumi knew that this was bound to happen but he never thought that he would have to explain the situation this early. He really hates it when people gossip about his life— and that extends to Y/N. He met Satoru and Y/N when he was 6 years old. Most of his childhood, he and Tsumiki stayed with the Gojos.

“They used to be together.” Megumi mumbles, looking down at his shoes. He then looks up at his friends when the both of them yell ‘HUH?!’ in unison. He couldn’t blame them though. Satoru and Y/N’s acting skills as if they were never together in the first place really fooled a lot of people, especially the people who don’t know anything about them.

“Yeah,” He says, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. Megumi takes a sip from his pepsi, in hopes to escape Nobara and Yuji’s interested gaze. “They’re marrie— could you both shut up for a bit?” He grumbles in annoyance.

Nobara scooches closer to Megumi. “Oh my god, tell me everything.”

He rolled his eyes but continued anyway. “They were in an arranged marriage as far as I know. They were together for 8 years. I think they’ve known each other for much longer, though.”

“Oh he definitely fumbled the bag.”

Yuji stares at him with his mouth agape. His eyes suddenly widened as he dramatically gasped, “Is that why you accidentally called Y/N sensei ‘mom’ ?!”

Megumi feels blood rising from his cheeks. He quickly looks down at his shoes once more to prevent Nobara and Yuji from seeing him embarrassed. Both of them started giggling.

“So that means you call Gojo-sensei ‘daddy’ huh?” Nobara smirked at the onyx haired boy. Megumi chokes on his drink before muttering a ‘shut up, I don’t.’

“So why did they break up?” Yuuji asks.

“I’m not really sure. They try to keep us out of their problems. Y/N just packed up one day and that was it. We kept in touch but she made me promise not to tell Gojo anything. Anyway, that’s it, stop questioning me.”

Nobara points a finger accusingly at the empty parking lot, “I bet he has commitment issues. Yeah, just by looking at him, he’s definitely the type to have one.”

“They have been together, for 8 years.” Megumi deadpans.

“Damn, adults are complicated.” Yuuji whines. “They’d look great together though.”

“He still fumbled! I bet my new perfume on that. To be honest, I don’t really see Y/N sensei with him. He seems chaotic enough as he is.”

“That’s a little harsh.”

“Well, she tolerates us,” Yuji adds, “Besides I don’t think Gojo-sensei will ask her out. Earlier, I saw Y/N-sensei on a date. I just forgot to tell you guys.”

Even Megumi doesn’t know that.

“What?!” Nobara exclaims, standing up. “C’mon, it’s 2 am. I need to get my beauty rest. I’ll get the Y/N and Gojo lore this week. I can’t wait to interview Geto-sensei!”

“That’s invading their privacy.” Megumi sighs.

Nobara and Yuuji kept asking Megumi questions, theorizing and pestering each other. The three of them talked (read: argue) on the way home, too engrossed in the mystery of Gojo and Y/N’s relationship.

Meanwhile they fail to notice their teacher casually leaning on the wall beside the convenience store, chuckling at his students’ curiosity.

Gojo shakes his head before heading off to god knows where.

gojo u naughty boi why are u out at 2 am wanna read more?

[drunk-fantasies]

after-date

+18 content, minors dni

bf!Jay x fem!reader / car sex, handjob, oral (m. receiving - not really but okay) / mlist

explicit content under the cut!

jay’s intoxicating smell of perfume made you dizzy this whole evening. he definitely had a soft spot for you and spoiled you with gifts and dinners at fancy restaurants, but today he topped himself.

the first thing you saw once you walked into your shared bedroom was a beautiful but tight black dress with a pair of heels you’ve been telling him about. next to them was laying a little note saying that he’s taking you on a date and bought those as a suggestion for you to what to wear. trusting his taste and sense of your size, you tried it on, and unsurprisingly it fitted perfectly. It hugged your body like a dream, showing your frame.

the second thing was his pick of a restaurant. you’ve never been there before and only had heard about this place, not thinking he would take you there on a date. everything smelled and tasted so good, but he distracted you the whole night. he didn’t have to do anything in particular, yet all your attention was on his bright yes, black hair and that addictive smell.

“what are you thinking about, my dear?” he asked, taking a bite of his meal.

“we both know what I’m thinking about,” you said without breaking eye contact.

he smirked and continued cutting the last bite. Noticing you’re both done he paid and took your hand in his. “then let’s go, since you’re so impatient.”

he opened the door for you and held the frame of the car, in case you hit it with your head. you waited patiently for him, though the level of your tolerance for his puttering was almost gone. taking his seat behind the wheel he started the car but froze for a moment the moment he felt your hand near his crotch.

“baby, let me drive, okay?” he chuckled and took your hand in his to turn a gear.

he stopped at the red light and you took the opportunity to lean closer and whisper: “just let me make you feel good.” you tried your best to sound as seductive as you could, but to him, you didn’t even have to try to do so. feeling how his knees became weak and drove off to an empty parking lot.

you quickly unbuckled his belt and he helped you lower his pants. you took his cock out slowly, admiring every protruding vein and reddish tip. twisting your wrist you started jerking him off and he leaned his head on the headrest in pleasure. leaning closer to him you started sucking small kisses on his jaw, knowing well how it made him weak. feeling his hand wrapping around yours you let him guide your movement. he sped up and started basically fucking your hand, while you were busy kissing now his neck.

“let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours, hm?” he murmured and you obediently wrapped your lips around his tip, continuing to pump his dick. he shot his cum not long after and held your hair for you in a makeshift ponytail. you raised your head and pulled him into a heated kiss, letting him taste his own seeds.

“just wait till we get home, baby.”

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝟏

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: After moving to Hawkings for a fresh start, you meet a boy with kind, brown eyes who will quickly become a friend and maybe something more. The only problem is: you took something that belongs to him by accident and now you don't know what to do.

A/N: Yes, there will be more parts. No, i don't know when. I hope this start doesn't suck.

You kind of hated how you had thought moving there was a good idea. Of course, your aunt had told you that she would welcome you with open arms if you ever decided to go and live with her but she had never told you that the people there seemed to look all the same and that everyone would have stared at you in a weird way, being the only crazy person who moved there after years of no new arrivals.

Hawkins was a small midwestern town located in Roane County in the state of Indiana and it wasn't hard to tell that it wasn't a very busy or interesting place even though you were driving down the main street for the first time, heading towards the house where you were supposed to live for quite some time, if everything would have gone as it should and your aunt hadn't decided to get rid of you after a few days, like you had basically done with your parents.

You looked first on the left and then the right side of the road, while the music was still playing loudly in the vehicle, trying to figure out which way you were supposed to go, then you remembered that you had a map of the city somewhere in your pickup.

You glanced at the back seats, where there were several suitcases and a few bags full of things that you would probably never need and which were just taking up a lot of space in your car already always full of various junk.

You noticed a lamp peeking out from a bag and wondered for the second time that morning what the hell was going on in your mind.

"C'mon, where are you?" You talked to yourself, searching through the sea of ​​objects scattered on the dashboard: a concert ticket, some polaroids containing memories of a life you were leaving behind (which had fallen from the ceiling of the car where you kept at least fifty of them fixed with tacks), a horror book by an unknown writer (the school library had crossed it out because it was considered inappropriate for kids), a shoe whose match had been lost while you were packing your bags, a half-empty green spray can and no trace of the city map.

The car behind you honked: you had not moved for at least two minutes.

"I'm trying to figure out where I need to go! I'm sorry!" You shouted through the rolled down window before the car passed you and a man gave you the middle finger.

"Rude." You commented, sighing and thinking about what to do.

Did continuing to wander around the city until you found the right path make sense?

You were about to restart the pickup when you saw a boy who couldn't have been older than fourteen and a taller, blond boy wearing a green and white jacket talking to each other as they walked along the sidewalk.

You grabbed your leather jacket and got out of the car, hoping no one would complain about the inappropriate place you were leaving it. Your driving teacher was probably right when she told you you sucked at parking.

"I'll be right back Casper." You said to the thing in the passenger seat. Nobody responded.

You reached the two boys just as the blond guy took the hat off the younger one, laughing.

You didn't immediately understand what was happening.

"Sorry, do you know where I can find-"

"Hey! Give it back!" The younger one tried to grab the hat while the other laughed, raising his arm straight up so he couldn't reach it.

"Give what back?" The blond laughed.

You cleared your throat. The two turned to you suddenly.

"What do you want?" The older one asked in an annoyed tone, looking you up and down.

"I wanted to know where Piney Wood Lane was but now I don't wanna talk with you anymore. Give the hat back."

He snorted as if I had come to ruin the party. "You can never have fun with you weirdos around."

You caught it before it landed in a puddle as the blonde dropped it to the ground.

He pointed to the kid saying something like "I'm not fucking done with you" before walking away.

"What a nice guy!" You yelled after him as he turned the corner.

"As always." The younger commented.

"Is everyone like this around here? I just moved but people like him make me want to go back to where I came from." You handed the hat back to him with a half smile.

You hated people like that guy, you had never understood how anyone could take pleasure in making someone else suffer.

"Not all. Most but not all, some of my friends are really cool. Thanks for that." He put the hat back on his head, covering his short curls, on his face a grateful expression even if you didn't do much.

You found yourself wondering what these "cool friends" of his were like.

"Good to know." You sighed ironically.

“I'm Dustin, by the way.” Dustin smiled at you.

You said your name and shook his hand, you thought that you had known that kid for about five minutes and you would already do anything to protect him.

Dustin looked at the car parked behind you. “Your car is so cool!” He commented in amazement, pointing with his finger at the drawings standing out against the black background, on the side of it.

"Thanks, it's a mess but it represents me, I think."

“Wait, what is that thing sitting in the passenger seat?”

"Oh, that's Casper!"

"It's a-"

"A skeleton, yes. My biology teacher let me borrow it from his class."

Dustin looked at you questioningly.

"Okay, I stole it. But he's a great travel companion, and never complains about the music I choose."

Dustin laughed. "I swear, you would love my friends."

"And I really would like to get to know them but now, could you help me find Piney Wood Lane? I lost the map in the middle of all the shit in my car."

"Sure I can, I know that street!" The boy nodded, hoping that you could become one of his "cool friends".

That afternoon, what had become your room was already full of stuff scattered around and suitcases that you didn't feel like unpacking everywhere. The posters you would soon hang were on the desk but you had decided to leave Casper in the car for a while longer. You had put most of your clothes in the closet and packed a bag full of spray cans with the intention of going out and finding a nice wall to do your first mural in the new town.

That time you didn't have any of your friends to make sure the cops didn't come but you figured that for your first few days there, you could manage on your own.

You grabbed a book in case you found a quiet place to read: you felt safer when you went out taking a book with you, even if you weren't sure you'd find a place or time to read.

“Are you going to explore the town?” Your aunt asked with a smile as you came out of your room with your bag over your shoulder.

You couldn't help but be grateful to her, she had said she would treat you like a daughter and give you a room of your own and that was exactly what she had done. You hadn't seen her in years and you didn't know each other very well but for the moment you seemed to get along well and your relationship seemed more peaceful than the one you'd had with many people in your old hometown.

Maybe this was really a new beginning for you.

"Yeah, something like that." You tried to sound convincing.

"Okay, don't get in trouble on your first day here."

You smiled.

"Oh, I would never do that."

You jumped off the trash can you were standing on, in the alley you had chosen for your mural.

You turned the spray can in your paint-stained hands, observing the work on the wall in front of you: you liked dragons in fantasy stories, you thought it might be nice to experiment with something like that.

"Yeah, you don’t look that bad." You said to the creature painted on the wall, before noticing that the sun was starting to set and it was probably time to go home.

You put the spray cans back in your bag and threw the empty ones into the bins you climbed onto.

Then, you heard a noise.

"Please don't be a cop." You muttered to yourself, placing your bag over your shoulder and walking out of the alley.

The footsteps got closer.

"Please don't be a cop." You repeated, keeping your gaze down as you rounded the corner, hoping to escape, that way, from whoever was coming in your direction.

Of course, luck wasn't on your side, as always: you collided with the person who was coming in your direction and if they hadn't grabbed you by the arm you would have surely ended up on the ground like the rest of your stuff.

Your book, your bag, and several spray cans scattered across the ground, some rolling away from you.

"Shit." You said through your teeth, looking up to look into the eyes of the person you had collided with.

A gentle and slightly worried gaze met yours, his chocolate brown eyes watching you as if to make sure you were okay. His expression was completely different from the way the boy who was bothering Dustin had looked at you that morning.

His messy, curly hair was brown like his eyes and his slight smile was reassuring.

"Are you good?" He asked, letting go of your arm after making sure you wouldn't fall.

"Oh, thank god you're not a cop!"

“And neither are you, good for both of us.” He chuckled before helping you pick up what you had dropped. You did the same, so quickly that you didn't even realize you had put something in the bag that didn't belong to you.

"I'm fine." You grabbed the spray can he was holding out to you, your fingers grazed his, adorned with chunky silver rings, and the action made you feel a weird sensation that you couldn't identify and that only lasted a few seconds in your stomach, “thank you.”

"It's a pleasure. It's always nice to help pretty girls break the law." He chuckled.

"I wasn't breaking any laws." You rolled your eyes, aware that you both knew you were lying, almost without realizing that he had called you pretty.

"Then why did you hope I wasn't a cop?"

"Maybe I just think they're not nice."

"Well, believe me, I've been arrested several times and I can guarantee you that most of them aren't."

You raised your eyebrows. "You've been arrested several times? What the hell did you do?"

"You really don't wanna know."

“Okay mystery man,” You rolled your eyes, the boy laughed at the nickname and you immediately liked the sound of it, then you held out your hand, introducing yourself.

He shook it and you felt that feeling in your stomach again but decided to ignore it, “Eddie.”

"Okay Eddie, are you good at giving an unbiased opinion on a mural done in an alley while standing on garbage bins?" You asked and without even waiting for an answer you started pushing him towards the dragon on the wall.

Usually you didn't need random strangers' opinions on your street art but this time you felt like you wanted to spend more time with that metal singer looking guy with the sweetest eyes you'd ever seen. And also, he wasn't a stranger anymore, he was Eddie.

“Oh sure, I was born for that.” He stated confidently.

Your laughter echoed down the alley as you reached the mural.

"There we go. Now you are an accessory to the crime."

"Well, in reality.... I didn't do anything. I'm just an innocent witness."

"You have paint on your hands."

"I don't-" He looked at his palms and realized you had stained one of his hands with green paint when you held it. "Oh, fuck you."

You laughed. "So? What do you think?"

“I think it's worthy of being on the cover of a metal album, it's amazing, really.”

"Well, thanks. For now it will stay on the wall of a dark alley."

"Really, that's so fucking cool. You should do this as a job or something like that."

"Well, I'm still in high school and I'm looking for someone who needs a babysitter to earn some money so... not yet, I guess."

"Well then I guess we'll meet there."

“Are you still in high school?”

Eddie sighed, as if expecting a joke on that.

"Hey, we don't judge people here. What do you expect from a girl who's spending her Sunday afternoon with a stranger chatting in front of some garbage cans?"

"I expect her to be cool as hell. And well-" He paused, as if thinking about it carefully, "I think she is."

You couldn't help but laugh again.

When you got home you still had a stupid smile on your face. You liked Eddie, you liked the way he made you feel like you didn't have to pretend to be someone else around him, you liked the way he called you "pretty" five more times that afternoon, you liked the way his eyes lit up when he talked about music, you liked the way he kindly asked you if he could walk you home since the sky was getting dark and he didn't want anything bad to happen to you, you liked the sound of his laughter and the way he tried to hide the blush on his cheeks when you told him that your opinion on Hawkings had become better after you met him.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Your aunt asked you when you entered the house.

"I met a boy."

She smirked.

"Don't look at me with that face, I just met him. He was just being nice."

"Mh-mh sure." She laughed as you rolled your eyes and walked into your room, leaving your bag on the bed.

When you unzipped it, something inside caught your attention: a small, brown leather-covered notebook you'd never seen before.

Your first thought was how the hell did he end up in there, then you remembered your clash with Eddie a few hours earlier. Was it possible that you had taken it without realizing it?

You got under the covers with the notebook in your hands. It was small but the pages were so many and so thin that someone could have started writing in it years before and still not filled it all.

You knew you shouldn't have done it, it might have contained private things, but you couldn't resist.

You opened it.

As soon as you did, a black and white photo of a girl with dark hair and a sun dress fell off the first page.

She was smiling and she was really pretty, you wondered who she could be. In the background you could see a garden and the sun shining in the sky.

It was wrinkled as if someone had held it in their hands for a long time.

Then, you read the first lines of the first page of the notebook. The writing was messy but legible, some words had been crossed out and rewritten probably due to some grammatical error or unclear thoughts.

"I realized that I almost don't remember her anymore and that's the thing that scares me the most. I don't want to forget her."

You couldn't help but wonder how you could feel the pain in those words simply by reading them in an old, crumpled notebook.

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

[zillychu]

I really like your “ghosts treated as natural disasters” au! It’s super cool! I wonder how people get around the fact that phantom has never been seen sucking anybody’s life force out? Do they think he’s building up to something big or just protective of the population center he’s found

That's a great question! I tried to keep that post as short and sweet as possible but oh man do I have a lot more nitty gritty details in mind.

For one, ghosts aren't restricted to Amity Park. They have haunts (territories) but they have lairs in the ghost zone as well, so they tend to go back and forth between the worlds.

However, only the Fentons have a portal with a fixed location, and they rarely have it turned on. (Fun fact: the Fenton portal is made after ghosts explode into the human realm in this AU!) There are areas on earth with higher portal activity, but where they pop up and how long they stay is pretty random.

So, ghosts naturally wander. They pop back into the human realm as they wish, but it's not always close to their haunt. Lots of lesser ghosts don't even have haunts, too mindless for intelligence and more like roaming animals. Smarter ghosts can be curious and explore other parts of earth. They tend to only get defensive of their haunt if they sense other ghosts hunting there excessively, or trying to lay claim on the haunt.

So, in short, Phantom isn't always in Amity. He's there most frequently, but does appear elsewhere on earth at times. There's basically no way to tell how many ghost-related deaths are Phantom's fault.

Not only that, but slowly devouring a human's life force over time isn't uncommon! More intelligent ghosts will do this in an effort to prolong the duration of their "meal", and indulge in the terror it incites. A lot of people simply get very ill and exhausted over time, until there's not enough life left in them. But since this happens to humans naturally all the time, well... it's often hard to tell if the decline in health is from natural causes, or a ghost. (Lesser ghosts don't eat as much, but they have no intelligence to keep them from stopping till they're full. They get full quickly though, so you're less likely to die if one catches you. Just watch out for multiple encounters.)

Danny does take this to an extreme, though! Humans do replenish their life force naturally over time--it's just that ghosts that eat slowly still overcome that natural regeneration. Phantom is literally the only ghost that takes so little over such a large population that it's barely perceptible (unless he messes up, which, oops--that's happened).

But there's simply no evidence that this is probable, or even possible. Ghosts have no reason to do this, it's not as satisfying to them if their prey doesn't experience the terror that comes with knowing they're being drained.

(Also, just another fun little factoid: haunts are usually small! Lesser ghosts will haunt a single item, stronger ones will haunt a building, the strongest on record will haunt something like a park or complex. No one has figured out yet that Phantom haunts all of Amity because that's unheard of!)

Another factoid: ghosts don't need life force to survive! They lived in the ghost zone all this time just fine.

Life energy simply gives them more power, and better ability to stay in the human realm longer, and more corporeal. And it's instinct--it tastes good.

Danny, however, does need that life energy to survive. He needs his ghost half strong enough to stay attached to him, or it could detach and leave his human half dead. Then he'd just be another ghost.

(Also, The more sentient a life is, the stronger it is. So ghosts could technically drain the life of plants and animals, but it's gonna be mostly empty calories.)

[radiance1]

[Another Teddy Bear Danny au]

So after the accident, 5-year-old Danny didn't end up in the zone, but instead on his parents basement floor like usual.

A while later his parents have been running tests on him, nothing that would hurt, only things like checking the condition of his body, using a stethoscope to see if he still had a heart, drawing a bit of lifeblood (via syringe) and testing his genetic makeup.

Nothing like dissection, like they would've wanted to do to any other ghost, but not to their son, never. Every test they put him through is utterly safe and harmless.

Like, a visit to the doctor's office.

Even giving him some candy for his efforts, when they found out he could manipulate his body to gain a mouth and the cutest little fangs. Surprisingly, he still had organs, except his stomach acid has been replaced by ectoplasm, that seemed to breakdown whatever food thrown in there into pure energy.

After the tests, they send him off so they could... work on a few things. Mostly the results of their tests, and how to make the ghost portal decidedly less lethal than it was currently capable of being to not have a repeat of this incident.

After working through all of the tests they could do, they finally let him leave the house, after determining that everything should be fine for his current body.

What a mistake that was.

You see, not a lot of people in Amity Park really practiced stranger danger. Everyone looked out for each other, most people knew everyone in certain ways, and tourists were basically null, so they didn't have much to fear in that area.

So, children were just allowed to go out and about because they basically knew most of the adults.

Of course, such a thing came back to bite them hard in the ass. For under a little a week, was Danny kidnapped.

By who? The Fentons had no way of knowing.

===

Danny really liked the man in white, they were really nice! Heapproached him while he was out on the playground. Jazz dropped him off here and said she would be back in a few minutes because she wanted to go get something that she forgot, even said on the way back she would get ice cream!

A while later, while he was trying to climb up the ladder of the slide, he was struggling to do so, then the guy helped him up to the top of the slide! He even did it more than once too!

Then, when he was in the sandpit, he was a bit weirded out because the sudden lack of kids in the playground, but it was fine! The guy even helped him make sandcastles, he was really, really good at making sandcastles, and even helped Danny make the bestest one he's ever seen!

Another while later, and Danny was getting a bit concerned about where Jazz was, she said she wouldn't be long, but it was a while since he saw her. He was waiting with his new friend for a bit, before a bit more time later his friend suggested that they go find her.

So, Danny sat in his friend's arm, and they left to go find his sister.

===

Jazz was running far later than she thought she would've. Due to repeated interruptions along the way, but she bought Danny a bigger portion of ice cream as apology, so she hopes he would forgive her for taking so long.

When she got there, the ground was entirely empty.

She looked around desperately for her brother, before running home to tell her parents.

===

Danny like experiments, so they didn't hurt, only felt a lil bit funny, like ticklish funny, and he gets some candy at the end of it too!

So, yea, Danny did like experiments.

Now though, he found he only liked the experiments done by his parents. They didn't hurt, and felt comfortable and safe because his parents were there and because they made it as comfortable as they could.

But the ones done by the people in white suits and lab coats didn't feel comfortable, or safe.

They hurt.

Blunt things didn't hurt, as they soon realized because of his cotton stuffed body, and his organs were also quite resilient to blunt force. Then they cut him open, and that hurt, hurt so much that he cried and wailed and shook his everything to try and get them to stop.

But they didn't stop, never stopped. They even took pride and joy in making him squirm around. They looked at and treated him as if he wasn't even human, which yea he techna- technicly- technically wasn't anymore since he heard his parents talking about it but still, they were being really mean.

They said words that went right over his head, at least when his parents used words like that, hey explained what it meant in smaller words.

He hated this place, he hated the men in white suits, and he hated the ones in lab coats even more.

He wanted to go back home.

===

5 years later, the GIW base was raided due the Anti-Ecto acts being a violation of rights, unearthed by the Fentons and brought to light by the Justice League.

The heroes who raided the base found multiple ghosts held captive, the most sickening thing being that the oldest ghost wasn't even 20, only being 18 years of age, when asked their age.

They opened up a room that was locked down tightly for some reason, perhaps a volatile experiment gone wrong or perhaps, another Conner situation. But no, all that was there were two Teddy Bears stuffed away in the corner, trying to make themselves even smaller than they already was in a desperate attempt to not be seen, when they hesitantly stepped in the room, one of them removed itself from the other one, spreading its arms out to either side of itself and standing in front of the other one protectively.

Its face shifted, as a mouth appeared. It bared its fangs and let out a low, animal-like growl as ice started to spread onto the ground from itself and a mist fell from its mouth.

===

Danny didn't know what the muffled sounds that managed to penetrate the wall meant, not what was causing them exactly. Maybe they caught a new ghost? He didn't know.

When a while later, did the door to their cell prison open, did Danny have a choice to make, one he didn't even need to think twice about. He may not know all of his powers correctly, nor know how to properly use them and he most likely wouldn't be able to do much damage.

But he wasn't about to let them hurt his new baby sister, sure, she may be a clone and they expected him to not like her. But he didn't care what they thought, if they think they could take her without a fight.

Well, they were dead wrong.

[katsu28]

hii!! i love your writing (especially your ted lasso works, although, i am a tad bit biased), and i was wondering if you could do 'orange rose' for the flower prompts with my bby sam obisanya? i've noticed an extreme lack of fics about him, but i absolutely adore him

thank you so much my dear!! sam is such a ray of sunshine and such a criminally underrated character and he deserves so much more love (and i will give it to him)

orange rose: experiencing constant as well as distracting thoughts of the other person, sam obisanya x reader, reader is the team physio (except my medical knowledge is basically nonexistent pls forgive any concussion inaccuracies oops), 1.3k

Sam’s mind was not with him on the pitch today. He’d been distracted during practice before, but never like this. He attributed it to you. It was always you. 

He saw you everyday, sometimes even multiple times a day, always volunteering to pop into the treatment room if one of the boys needed ice or tape. Sometimes he visited you without having an actual reason other than wanting to talk to you for a little bit. You were always a nice change from locker room talk (and you smelled a lot nicer too). 

You plagued his thoughts day in and day out, often distracting him from whatever he was doing because he was too busy thinking about what it would be like to do things with you. Mundane things like making breakfast together. Taking an evening stroll around Richmond. Helping him test out new recipes for Ola's.

There was a rather specific reason why you were the source of his distraction today, though. 

------- 

Sam heard his name echo through the empty car park, looking up from his phone in bewilderment that soon turned to joy when he spotted you jogging towards him.

He slowed his pace to a crawl, giving you time to fall into step with him on the way towards the facility entrance. You looked almost unbearably pretty like you always did. 

“Good morning,” He said cheerfully, smiling brightly at you. “How was your night?” 

“Good! I stayed in, so it was pretty quiet, just the way I like it.” Your arm brushed against his as you moved to let another person squeeze past you, and Sam swore his heart raced double time in his chest. He had to ward off thoughts of spending quiet nights with you before you noticed him acting weird. “Any fun plans tonight after training?” 

“Yes, actually! One of my friends is having their engagement party at Clos Maggiore, near the Royal Opera House. Maybe you know it?” 

“No way! I’ve been dying to try that place, but the waitlist is miles long. I’d probably be geriatric by the time I could get a table.” You sighed, offering him a shrug. A brilliant plan sprung to Sam’s mind at that very moment, and he decided to take the plunge and outright ask you what he wanted to. 

“Would you maybe want to go with me?” He asked, rocking back on his heels nervously. The corners of your mouth turned up into a small, hopeful smile. “As my date.” He added, praying that he wasn’t overstepping his bounds. 

That got a much bigger smile out of you, a beam whose magnitude could quite possibly rival the sun, in his opinion. It was one of Sam’s favorite things about you. 

“I would love to be your date, Sam.” 

“Really?” 

“‘Course. Dunno if you’d noticed, but I like you.” 

Sam’s answer was immediate. “I like you too.” 

He wanted to continue the conversation so badly, but you’d somehow arrived at the locker room without him even noticing. Normally he’d make an attempt to prolong the conversation, offering to walk you to your office, but he could see most of the team already booted up and ready to train. 

“I have to go.” He said, sounding a touch disheartened. You must’ve noticed, because you snaked your hand into his for a quick second, squeezing fondly before dropping your hand back down to your side. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight then. Six o’clock? Don’t be late.” You called, backpedaling down the corridor with another sunshine smile aimed his way. Sam nodded furiously. 

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.” 

-------

“Sam! Sam, watch—” 

Sam shook himself out of his thoughts, but not in time to see the ball hurtling right towards his face. 

Had he been paying attention, he would’ve seen the beautiful cross-field pass Jamie had lofted his way upon seeing that he was unmarked. Since he wasn’t, it slammed into the side of his head, sitting him right down on his ass in a sprawl of limbs. 

There was a symphony of shouts and the boys were by his side in an instant, crowding around him nervously as they waited to see if he was okay. Sam sat up slowly, rubbing his temple with a bewildered look aimed at his teammate. 

“You were lookin’ right at me, man, I thought you were open!” Jamie protested, raking his hands through his hair. “Did I break anything??” 

“Yeah bruv, did he crack your skull?” 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” 

“Do you remember how much money I owe you?” That one was Jan Maas, and it earned him an elbow to the gut. “What? I don’t want to pay him.”

“Sam! Do me a favor and come over here a sec!” Ted called, beckoning Sam over to the sidelines. “The rest of you boys head on over to Coach Beard for defense drills, chop chop!” 

With another shake of his head, Sam headed over. “Yes, Coach?” 

“First of all, you alright, son? Pretty nasty knock to the noggin you just got.” Ted looked genuinely concerned, but when Sam nodded, his mouth flattened into a rather disappointed line. “Good. Glad you’re okay. Second of all, your head’s further away from this pitch right now than E.T. from his home. Wanna tell me what’s going on, or do I gotta get all stern coach on you and make you tell me?” 

“Sorry Coach, I am just…” Sam trailed off, racking his brain for the right word to describe how he was feeling without having to tell Ted that he was distracted because he was thinking about you. Telling his coach he wasn’t one hundred percent into his training was definitely not a good move. “It’s nothing. I promise I won’t lose focus again. You have my word.” 

Ted tilted his head at the young player, as if contemplating whether or not to force the reason out of it. Eventually, he just shrugged. “Alright, well, why don’t you mosey on over to the treatment room to pay the good doc a visit? See if she can’t fix you up, make you right as rain again.”

Sam nodded, his eagerness to get back onto the pitch (and maybe at the prospect of seeing you again, even for just a little bit) sending him hurrying through the facility quickly. 

The door to the treatment room was ajar when he arrived, but he knocked anyway, poking his head in to scan for you. 

“You just couldn’t wait until after training to see me again, hm?” You sighed, smiling at him warmly from where you were looking over a chart. Sam offered a rather bashful smile and a soft greeting back, boots clicking on the floor as he shuffled into the small room. “Alright, come sit. Tell me what happened.” 

“The ball hit me in the head.” He mumbled, his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. You clicked your tongue, fingers pressing against his scalp for any bumps or abnormalities. Your touch and close proximity made him shiver, but he liked to think he kept it under wraps quite well. 

“Do you have any nausea? Dizziness? Trouble remembering things?” Sam shook his head. He enjoyed being doted on by you, even if you were just doing your job. You patted his cheek goodnaturedly. “Well, other than that nice sized bruise where I’m assuming the ball hit you, I’m not seeing any signs of concussion.” 

“Thank god. I would’ve hated to disappoint the team.” 

“Just take this cold pack and ice your head for a while. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off, and repeat. The swelling should go down fairly soon, but I want you to let me know if you start feeling off.” You went to grab a bag of ice and a washcloth to wrap it in as you spoke. Sam’s eyes never left you, even when you came back to place the cold pack in his hand. “Would hate to lose out on Clos Maggiore because you got knocked on the head.” 

He nodded slowly, bringing the ice up to his head. “So you are only using me for my connections, I see.” 

“Pretty obvious, innit?” You winked playfully and getting hit in the head suddenly didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. “Right, well you should get back to the pitch. Tell Ted you’re cleared for training after you ice.” 

“Yes, doctor.” He hesitated a moment, then crossed the room to press a quick kiss to your cheek before he could chicken out. “See you tonight.” 

Had he stayed a second longer, he would’ve seen how big your smile had gotten at the simple action. 

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[jksprincess10]

Are we out of the woods 2. Passenger side

Summary : Your father is a dangerous man who has a lot of enemies. One day, you’re taken from your home by force to go to a safe cabin in the woods to be protected from an unknown danger by three of his men: Ironhead, Pope and Catfish. You’re not really a nature enjoyer, but in your boredom, you discover a new love for nature. You also get to know the men working for your dad and interest sparks between you and the mysterious and silent Francisco.

CW: canon-like violence, explicit smut, reader is kind of a princess at first, talks of divorce, drugs & alcohol, talks of addiction, slight age gap (reader in her mid 20s, frankie in his late 30s), jealousy, tension, frankie is a mess.

Fic masterlist

Notification blog

“You’re not going, it’s not safe.” Santiago settles, while Frankie and Will are silent beside him, arms crossed.

You feel like you have three different versions of your dad scolding you.

“Well I’m not trusting any of you to go grocery shopping. What will you get? Beer and chips?” You argue with your fists against your hips.

“Of course we can get the basics…” Will starts.

“Yeah? Like what?” You wait and your only answer is silence. “Exactly. I’m cooking and I’m not letting you starve, even though it’s very tempting right now.”

“I’ll go with her.” Frankie says after clearing his throat. The boys turn to him with knives in their eyes, but they sigh and agree.

You’re so excited that you could burst from joy. Well… it doesn’t seem like much, but in your current situation, it still is a victory.

The scenery is so repetitive, you could fall asleep. The falls colors all blend together, creating a vibrant painting.

The fact that Frankie is as silent as a tomb doesn’t help. You don’t know how far the nearest shop is, but you guess it’s very far and you would have to buy groceries for a while.

The radio had been on low volume, but suddenly Frankie cranks it up way too loud when he hears the start of a song he likes. You hear him humming and drumming against the wheel and you try to hide your amusement.

“Don’t tell me you listen to Nickelback?” You ask as you camouflage your giggles behind your hand. Frankie looks at you from the side and you can tell he’s annoyed.

“There’s nothing wrong with Nickelback.”

“There’s a lot wrong with Nickelback. What is this, Frankie? Dad rock station?”

“I’m a dad, you know.” He doesn’t say it like he’s proud of it. You can feel a hint of sadness in his tone, veiled by a faint annoyance.

He’s a…dad? You have a hard time determining how old he is. His face is young with little signs of age except the dark circles under his eyes. He has the start of a dad bod. There isn’t much grey in his hair, well as far as you can see from the curls hanging out of his cap. There are a few grey hairs mixed in his brown beard, though.

And you’re probably staring… because you hear Frankie clearing his throat.

“Is it that surprising?” Frankie inquires.

“I mean, yeah, with that kind of job.” You think out loud. “But it’s none of my business.”

There’s no ring on his finger. You don’t know why, but the thought pleases you.

“You’re right, just let me do my job.”

“I’m sorry.” You respond awkwardly as you look out of the window.

Eventually, the scenery changes. Civilization. The houses are still far apart though and besides a gas station, you don’t see much until Frankie parks near a grocery store. The parking lot is empty besides a few cars. It’s still early for grocery shopping, you guess.

“Put your hood up.” Frankie orders.

The strict tone he uses unlocks something in you that you try to ignore. You shouldn’t like when a man orders you around. Still, you choose to obey and put the hood of your dark coat over your head.

“Who would attack me? It’s 10 fucking AM.” You finally say as you get out of the car.

“Better safe than sorry.”

You go through the automatic doors first, with Frankie following you closely. You grab the nearest cart. You greet the clerk with a polite nod, and you go through the first aisles. You’re overwhelmed with all your options and the quantity of things you must buy to survive the next weeks. Frankie is stressing you out, acting like a guard dog.

“You look suspicious when you keep looking around like that. Relax.” You mumble.

“Can’t you be quicker about it?”

“Go get stuff for the boys and quit stressing me out.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Fine, then wait.”

You can’t believe you’re fighting with Francisco like you’re an old couple. You do your best to ignore him as you fill the cart with essentials, and him with dumb things that you don’t need: like enough beer for an army.

“You have a drinking problem.”

“Yeah, well maybe you should drink too so you’d be more fun to be around with.”

You roll your eyes and head to the cashier. You pay for the food – and Frankie’s beer, with the money your dad gave you.

When you get home, Santi and Will are outside, probably admiring nature. They look relieved when they see you coming out of the car intact.

“Relax, no one would have hurt me. Well… maybe except Catfish’s dad rock music that hurt my ears.”

He gets the bags for you. “What do you even listen to anyway?” Catfish scoffs.

“Not dad rock.”

“I see you two are getting along well.” Santi says with a tinge of teasing.

Days pass and the lack of intimacy you have is starting to get to you. The boys are always around to watch over you. You think they’re probably listening when you’re in your room, which makes it awkward to fulfill your… needs.

Let’s say with that much free time, your mind started to wander. You can’t deny that the men hired by your father are attractive. And Frankie, even though he’s getting on your nerves, is your kind of man. Older, with a beard and pretty eyes. You can’t help thinking about him giving you orders but in other situations.

Fuck it. You can’t hold it back any longer. It’s late, the boys should be in their room anyway. You make sure the door is locked and take out your phone. It’s useless since this place is very much off the grid. But… you saved a few special videos for lonely times.

You select your favorite, thinking your air pods are connected. But there’s a loud, unmistakable tune that’s at the start of videos from that website. You curse and you reconnect your airpods, hoping no one heard. You eventually relax as you watch the amateur video of man fucking a woman roughly.  You imagine yourself and Frankie in the situation as you circle and tease your clit until you come in a silent moan.

When you come out of your room to get a glass of water, you find Santi and Frankie in the middle of a conversation, a beer in hand.

“Were you watching porn or was that from Will?” Santiago asks without any discomfort. Like it’s a normal thing to talk about.

You feel your cheeks heating up. “T-That was probably Will.”

“Don’t worry, we all have needs. Except we make sure no one hears it.” Frankie teases. He’s smiling at you, and you want to slap the smile off that pretty face. Even though it’s nice to see another expression than the pouty lips he wears constantly.

Santiago adds something in Spanish that you don’t hear. You grab yourself a glass of water as Frankie responds in the same language.

“It’s not fair to keep secrets from your boss.” You snap.

“We were just saying that you were cute when you were embarrassed and mad.” Frankie translates. “And technically, you’re not our boss. Your dad is.”

And for once, that shuts you up.

[hypewinter]

Ok Tim next: Now due to his upbringing, Timbo is an insecure little nugget. This leads him to surrounding himself with a less than ideal lot who basically just treat him as entertainment. There's a problem with this arrangement though. Tim is absolutely boring. Either he doesn't realize they're insulting him with backhanded compliments or he doesn't care. Plus it's not like they need his money or anything since all their parents are rich socialites too. This leads to Tim's "friends" slowly distancing themselves from him. Desperate to get them back, Tim unleashes his last trump card: he knows the secret identity of Batman and his gang.

Naturally the friends don't believe him because why would this tiny nerd know one of the most coveted secrets of Gotham? So Tim sets out to gather proof. He snaps pictures of the Waynes both in and out of uniform to prove that they really are the same people. This leads to him getting caught up in a rogue attack where he gets injured. Duke notices an injured civilian crawling into an alleyway and immediately goes over to help only to recognize the civilian as not only Tim Drake, the only son of the Drake family but also as the unknown nonthreatening presence that's been loosely following him and the others for the past few days. When Tim wakes up in the hospital with the Wayne children surrounding him, he thinks he's been caught and proceeds to babble out everything. As if that wasn't already concerning enough, Bruce can't get ahold of the Drake parents and even when he eventually does, they insist on finishing their dig site first... while their child is in the hospital. As you can imagine CPS is promptly called and before Tim can blink, he's now the Wayne family's new ward. Additionally seeing no reason to hide their identities, the Waynes let Tim into that Batcave whenever he wants (this leads to him helping out behind the scenes with Alfred).

As for Steph: Similar to Duke I'm not really changing much as her story takes place outside of the batfam. She ends up meeting Tim outside of school and they become friends. After noticing the tale tell signs of her being a vigilante as well as the others complaining about someone new running around Gotham, Tim puts two and two together and invites Steph to meet the family.

Alright who's next? Ah yes Jason: Bruce has met this tiny ball of rage multiple times as he often visits Jason's school for charity events. He immediately clocks Jason as not having a great home life and decides to keep an eye on him. Which is why Bruce is one of the first to know when Jason stops coming to school one day. He's also the one who pressures CPS to do a wellness check at the boy's home where they find no one. The address on file for Jason Todd is an old ratty apartment that has long since been empty and cold.

Bruce panics and immediately puts everyone on the look out for the kid. They're checking alleys, they're checking shelters, heck some of them even check the sewers (you never know). But Jason is nowhere to be found. After another night of fruitless endeavors Bruce tiredly makes his way back to the batmobile. It is only then that he notices in his desperate search for Jason that he parked in the one place in Gotham he avoided like the plague, Crime Alley. It is also in this place Bruce vowed never to near, that he sees Jason, trying to break into the batmobile. He almost cries with relief. Instead he carefully approaches the boy. It takes a long time (and a lot of bribes) to convince Jason to come with him to the police station. It takes significantly less time to get emergency custody of him. And it takes somewhere in the middle for Jason to warm up to the Wayne family. (While he does warm up to them, he does remain a little suspicious. Suspicious enough to find a clock in the study that leads to the batcave. This leads Jason to using practically every threat in the book to get himself added to the roster)

Part 1 Part 3

[forever-rogue]

Hi!

This idea just wont leave my head : reader strongly dislikes physical touch from anyone but Steve and, being the idiot he is, steve is completely oblivious to it. When the rest of the group tells him he doesn't believe them so they make up some master plan to prove him wrong. Basically #idiotsinlove

If you feel like writing that, itd be awesome. Have a lovely day <3

AN | Idiots in love? Blind fools in love? I’m in love! 🥰

Warnings | Language, Mentions of Spice 

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.1k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you ever going to ask her out?” Robin’s sudden appearance startled him as he stared off into the distance. If you hadn’t been paying you might have thought he was zoned out, but in reality he had been staring at you the entire time. He was beyond grateful that he’d remembered his sunglasses. He’d been so enthralled by you that he hadn’t even heard Robin open the passenger door. 

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, pointedly ignoring her question, “you could have tapped on the window first or something!”

“You could have been paying attention,” she threw her backpack in the back seat as he rolled his eyes at her behind the dark lenses of his Raybans, “don’t ignore my question, Steve!”

“Ask who out?”

“Don’t be so stupid,” she hit his arm as he started the car, casting you a last longing little glance before pulling away. Robin sweetly sang your name, and a dark flush of pink rose up in his cheeks, “you’re whipped for her. And she likes you too! So why not make a move?”

“She doesn’t - ugh, no. I didn’t think you could get so stupid,” he reached over and flicked her nose, causing her to grumble at him. The idea that you could like him even a fraction of how much he liked you was enough to cause his heart to constrict with nerves, “w-wait though…why do you think she likes me?”

“It’s not just me dingus,” she sat back and watched him closely, a little smirk on her face, “it’s all of us. I think it’s just you too that are blind. Like…idiots in love, basically. Besides, she has a huge tell.”

“Tell?”

“Yeah, how we know she likes you,” she was enjoying watching him squirm as he tried to keep his cool. She could tell he was spiraling inside, “she likes touching you-”

“Excuse me?” he turned to her and almost veered the car off the road, causing her to grumble loudly.

“Mind out of the gutter, Steve! Not like that,” she sighed when he pulled into the parking lot of Family Video. At least she wasn’t alone on her shift today; she had her best friend working with her. And she was going to make him confess his feelings if it was the last thing she did, “she…she’s not a physically affectionate person. You know…like Eddie - he’s always touching someone and he’s just more…openly affectionate I guess? But she’s like the exact opposite.”

“But she’s always hugged me or…”

“Exactly,” she nodded happily, “her tell! She won’t let any of us touch her but you. Only you. Are you putting two and two together?”

“I…” he turned the car off and gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white, “I think you’re all seeing things where you want to. I mean, I wish it was true - and there, now you can say made me admit I like her - but it’s not true. It’s wishful thinking.”

“I’m not wrong,” she insisted, refusing to give into his pessimism, “not all of us are wrong. You’ll see - we’ll get you to see that it’s true. Or you could just go and ask her out.”

“Not happening.”

“Well then, Harrington, it’s on.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Movie night always proved to be…chaotic. Chaotic in a good way, but what else could be expected when a bunch of teenagers, an empty house, and too much pizza and soda were involved? You were running a little late, your last tutoring gig having run longer than anticipated, but you came with a ton of cookies to make up for it. 

You rocked back and forth on your heels as you waited for Steve, or anybody, to answer the door once you’d rung the bell. The idea of seeing Steve always put butterflies in your tummy, despite the fact that you’d known him and been his friend for years. That sweet, dopey dork had a hold on you that was palpable. The door slowly opened and you found Dustin grinned excitedly.

“Hey bud,” you walked inside and kicked off your shoes as you handed him the container of cookies, “sorry I’m late - took forever today!”

“It’s okay,” he insisted as he set the box down and came back over, hesitating for just a moment before throwing his arms around you in a tight hug, “just so glad you’re here!”

“O-oh,” it took you a moment to react, but you gently and tentatively put your arms around him a light hug in return, “I’m glad to see you guys. Especially after this hellish week.”

“Hi!” Max darted over and almost knocked you down in her attempt to hug. You sighed lightly before wrapping an arm around her slim shoulders, “I’m glad you’re here. All these boys suck.”

“Hey!” Robin glowered from her spot on the couch before making her way over. You smiled at your friend and she managed to take you by surprise as she pressed kisses to your cheeks. What was with everyone today? They were all being so…weird, “missed you.”

“I saw you earlier,” you snorted as you raised your eyebrows in suspicion, “we have most of our classes together…”

“Still,” she insisted, dragging you into the living room where everyone was gathering with pizza, “it’s always better with you around.”

“Exactly,” Lucas hugged your legs from his spot on the floor and you just sighed lightly, “now the party can get started.”

“Should I be worried?” you looked around at the eager faces of your friends, “you’re all acting weird. Weirder than normal…and that’s saying a lot.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he looked at you sweetly with those big brown eyes of his. You knew Eddie better than almost anyone else and now you knew something was up. 

“Did you give them all laced blunts or something?” you sighed as he just shook his head in amusement before giggling happily. You heard your name whispered softly as you turned around to find Steve standing at the bottom of the stairs, a collection of blankets in his arms. Your expression softened as he grinned at you, “hi Stevie!”

Robin exchanged a sneaky little glance with Eddie as the two of them silently mouthed Stevie! at each other. Steve swallowed thickly before handing the blankets over to Dustin who just happened to appear at his side with perfect timing. His heart was practically hammering against his chest as he contemplated his next actions. His plan had been to hug you, to see if Robin’s theory had been right, but he found himself frozen. You tilted your head to the side, giving him that smile that made him weak in the knees, “h-hi.”

“Okay weirdo,” you reached up and touched his cheek before affectionately ruffing his glorious mop of hair. Steve was biting the inside of cheek so hard that it was a miracle that he wasn’t bleeding. Robin caught his eye from over your shoulder and gave him a little shrug as if to say told you so. But you…you’d always been like that with him. So openly affectionate and gentle and oh. Oh. He’d been so blinded with his own affection for you that he hadn’t noticed yours, “not you too! You’re all acting so weird. Are we gonna  do movie night or are you all going to continue acting like this?”

“Movie!” Eddie shouted happily as Dustin tossed blankets around for everyone to get comfortable. You watched as Steve took his customary spot on the big couch, on the far end, grabbing one of the big blankets and looking at you, silently asking if you were coming. It was normal for you to be next to him, normal for you to be tucked into his side, normal for him to put his arm around as you laid your head on his chest. Oh. 

What was normal for the two of you…wasn’t normal for everyone. Not for people that were just friends. At the realization, your cheeks warmed up and you slowly made your way to him, almost flopping down as he tossed the blanket over both of you. You wondered if…maybe he felt the same way as you. You’d always thought you’d hidden your affection and sweetness for him well enough but now you were…absolutely questioning that. 

Without even thinking about it, Steve pulled you into his side and his long arm wrapped around you. Only this time, you didn’t lay your head on his chest or on his shoulder, but your gaze was concentrated on him. 

Lucas flipped off the lights as Eddie started the movie, casting the room into darkness save for the light of the television. You hadn’t even noticed what movie was playing, instead so hyper-aware and focused on Steve. You’d never been more aware of his closeness, of how his body felt next to yours. Suddenly it seemed like every time you had touched him had been taken for granted. 

“Hey,” he leaned and whispered so long you could hear him, “is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, giving him an unconvincing little smile, “just…tired.”

“Oh,” he almost sounded disappointed, but you could tell that he didn’t believe you, “okay.”

Despite your hesitation, you forced yourself to push through, to see if perhaps you could take it a little further. You slung your arm over his midsection before cuddling into his side and practically squishing your face into his chest. You could feel his sharp inhale before he slowly let it back out and he relaxed. Neither of you said anything for some time, sitting there comfortably tangled up, but unable to focus on the movie. 

After what seemed like a small eternity, you couldn’t handle it anymore. You untangled yourself from Steve, sitting back on legs so you were facing him. His mouth opened in surprise for a moment, but when he noticed you studying him so intently, he grew nervous. 

“C-can we go upstairs?” his heart almost dropped into his stomach at your words as his mind immediately started reeling with the possibilities. His mouth felt dry so he just nodded instead, not trusting himself to speak. You quietly climbed off the couch and padded towards the stairs with Steve following closely behind. You didn’t even look back or stop until you were at his door, letting yourself into his room. 

There was something so familiar and comforting about his room; you’d been in here hundreds of times before but something about this moment felt so different. You sat down on his bed as he closed the door and leaned against it. You were looking at each other, both of you unable to look away. 

“Stevie?” your gaze had shifted to your feet as you played with a loose thread on his blanket. He made a small sound of acknowledgement but didn’t push you any further, “why were they all acting so weird tonight? Is there something going on?”

“Whaddya mean?” he stuffed his hands into his pockets as you looked up and tutted at him.

“You know what I mean,” you sighed lightly, “they were all huggy and touchy. It’s not…I like touch, you know, but on my terms. It’s just…I dunno, I’ve always been that way. But…with you, i-it’s different. I don't know…I like when you…t-touch me."

There was a bemused little smile on his face as he waited for you to realize your mistake. When you did, your hands went to your face as your entire body felt like it was on fire, "fuck - Stevie, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that I-I just…I like being close to you."

"I know what you meant," he moved from the door and came closer to you, tentatively and slowly to make sure he wasn't crossing any unspoken boundaries. When you didn't stop him, he sat down next to you, the mattress dipping under his weight. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments before he set his hand down on the bed next to yours, and you could feel his pinky brushing against yours.

"Steve-"

"Robin is convinced that you like me," he cut you off but had to do it because he wasn't sure if he'd get the courage to say it again, "she says you have this tell - that you don't like touching anyone else but me."

"Steve."

"She wanted to test her dumb theory and that's why everyone was so lovey dovey touchy feely today," he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, "and I realize now that's a fucked up thing to do and probably made you feel uncomfortable and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let them do it."

"It's okay," you smiled softly, the butterflies in your tummy fluttering around wildly. Robin knew - she had known. Which means that everyone else probably did too, "I thought they were being extra weird."

"Unfortunately."

"What was your conclusion?"

"I - ugh - what?"

"Your conclusion," you moved your hand ever so slightly closer to his and nudged his foot with yours, "what did you learn? About Robin's little theory."

"I…" he inhaled and trailed off, turning his head lightly towards you, "well…I-I think she was right."

"Oh,” it was a soft little sound that caused him to panic and spiral almost immediately. Oh. It could have meant a hundred different things but your expression was giving away nothing. Meanwhile you were trying not to panic out of sheer excitement because holy fuck - that meant Steve did like you. Or at least…probably did. Shit. Were you reading into this too much now? You allowed yourself a small glance at him and realized he’d been staring at you this entire time. 

You shifted so you were fully sitting on his bed, cross-legged as you waited to see who would break the tension. He nervously rubbed his palms on his thighs before letting out a small, nervous laugh, “oh.”

“Steve,” you put your hand on his arm, willing him to look at you, but all he did was stare at the floor, “Stevie.”

He turned at the sound of his nickname, his big, soft brown eyes meeting yours. You could tell there was a nervous little hope behind them. He’d never let anyone else call him Stevie. It had always irked and irritated him but when you said it? It practically made him weak in the knees. Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, he moved so his position was mirroring yours. 

You felt so vulnerable and open with him, but you never once felt scared or nervous. He always made you feel safe - protected. In a blur and without letting yourself overthink for one, you put your hand on his cheek and surged forward to kiss him. He made a small sound of surprise, taken aback by your sudden boldness, but quickly kissed you right back. It was messy at first, clumsy and awkward and your teeth clicked together a few times, but you soon found a rhythm that was both needy and saccharine. 

He pulled and you pushed your way onto his lap, and he settled his hands on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. When he had thoroughly kissed you until you were both breathless, he pulled back and you both exchanged a nervous little laugh. 

“So ‘oh’ was a good thing then?” he asked sweetly as he cupped your face in his warm, large hand before stroking your cheek.

“Yeah,” you nodded, feeling warm from his touch, “it was.”

“Fuck me,” his groan was playful as he pressed his forehead against yours before you kissed him again. He tasted of salty popcorn, sweet cookies, and faint mint. You liked it - you liked him. You really like kissing him; you’d imagined this moment at least a million times and this still felt better than anything you could have ever dreamed up, “Robin is never going to let me live it down once she realizes she was right.”

“Maybe it’s not such a bad thing,” you whispered, leaning in so your lips were brushing against his, “maybe it’s the little push we finally needed.” 

“I would have said…something a long time again if I had any idea that you’d feel even remotely the same,” he admitted as a wicked blush rose up in his cheeks. You pulled back and looked at him with wide eyes. Those soft, big doe eyes make him bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning out loud.

“What do you mean?” you whispered, “did you not think I liked you? Steve, I’ve loved you for a long time.”

“Y-you..love me?”

“Oh, ahh, shit,” you scratched the back of your neck nervously, pulling back from him for just a moment, “I-I didn’t mean it how it sounded. It’s just that…I like you a lot and it’s-”

“I love you,” his hands found your face as he pulled you back down to his lips. This time he kissed you slowly, pouring every little bit of love, every unspoken word into the kiss, hoping you were able to feel it. You were, “have for a long time.”

“Oh Steve,” this time it was your turn to kiss him, and the two of you were quickly lost in each other and one thing led to another as you ended up under him, beaming up at him happily. He leaned down and you brushed some of the soft locks of hair out of his face, and he couldn’t stop from kissing you again, “Steve.”

“Hey!” Robin knocked loudly on his door and you could hear Eddie giggling along with her, “movie’s over and ugh…we’re gonna continue this at the Wheelers’ so you guys have some…privacy.”

“Unless you’re already having sex!” oh Eddie.

“Good,” Steve groaned lightly as you just smiled at him, “now go!”

“Steve?” Robin’s voice was sticky sweet and you both already knew what was coming, “I told you so.”

“Goodbye!” Steve buried his face into the crook of your shoulder as you just laughed, “our friends are the worst.”

“Sometimes,” you agreed, “but right now, I’m kind of thankful for them. So, tell me Stevie…do you want to have sex?”

“I...fuck,” he closed his and let out a wistful little moan, “yeah, I really do.”

“Good,” you whispered, “me too. But also - I love you.”

“I love you.”

[alphabetatoes]

tennesee whiskey (n. kento x reader)

a.n.: this is basically a drawn out version of the prompt i posted earlier. fic title is in reference to the chris stapleton cover song (felt appropriate for the bar theme) (and and also also lets admire how cute the dividers i made in canva are) does this jump around in characterization? yeah maybe. go ahead, call the whimsy police on me! summary: nanami teaches you how to play pool c.w.: reader referred to using she/her pronouns, alcohol (reader is 21+), suggestive themes, smut if you squint, jealous nanami, and the ever-present risk of writing ooc. barely beta read (though what fic of mine is lmao) w.c.: 1.4k

You and Nanami were sent out to the middle of nowhere to exorcise a curse, in hopes of stopping it before it had the chance to propagate into something worse. Even though it was a Grade 3 curse, the higher ups deemed it safest for the two of you to go as a pair.. It was an in-and-out mission, the two of you making quick work to intervene. Soon enough, you were back in the car and headed back to campus. The simple pitter patter of raindrops hitting the windshield brought a strange sense of comfort. But the calm could only last for so long. A barricade of rain began to drop, bringing a swift end to the peace. He drove until the road was unnavigable, pulling off into an empty parking lot. The two of you were stranded. Your options were to either wait out the storm in the car, or attempt to find solace somewhere nearby. You chose to press your luck with the latter.

“Over there.”, he points out, pulling your attention.

Across the street, there was a dive bar still open despite the storm. The flickering neon lights were your own personal Eden. When you enter the bar, you’re immediately hit with warmth. A concoction of body heat and cigarette smoke fill the room. You can’t seem to mind it though. It draws the attention away from your clothes starting to form a second skin on your body.

“Now don’t you two look wonderful.” The bartender jokes. He bears a giant grin, and you can’t help but to feel unsettled by it. “If you got a change of clothes, restrooms are over that way.” Today was one of the days you were grateful for the spare set of clothes you kept on hand. Missions were unpredictable, and you never knew when you’d be stuck somewhere. You seize the opportunity and head to the restroom, eager to remove the soaked clothes. While you change, Nananmi orders two drinks from the bar.

“For you and your girlfriend?” “Hell, if she’s not spoken for, I’ll have to make her mine!” It’s not like he had a claim over you or anything. But as your partner, and even more so as your friend, he made your protection a top priority. It didn’t matter if they were one off comments. Nanami had lost too many to be careless.

“She’s fine.” Nanami’s tone is dry, unimpressed by the barkeep’s boldness. You return from changing, noticing the blond standing closer to you than before. It’s probably just a safety thing. Better to stay close together than apart, right?

“Drink this.” He hands you the other glass of whiskey. “It’ll help warm you up.” The liquor goes down relatively smooth, and you revel in the warmth of it. “How about a game of pool to pass the time?” You nod over at the table in the corner of the bar. The rain wasn’t letting up any time soon, and you figured it was a good way to pass the time. “You’ve played pool?” 

“I’ve dabbled in it… online.” He rolls his eyes and hands you a stick. A hint of a smile crosses his face. That stoic exterior he fronts at all times slowly starting to chip away. “We could make it fun. Loser has to do something for the winner?” An opportunity for the adult of all adults to let loose. You were curious to know what was behind that rigid exterior. “If I win, you buy me a drink.”  

“And what if I win?” A virtual win does not a professional pool player make, but you weren’t completely oblivious to the game. Even if the odds were stacked against you, you weren’t going down without a fight.

“Given the likelihood of that, I’ll do whatever you want.” He breaks, immediately shooting 3 balls into the pockets. Show-off. “Where’d you learn to play like that?” Of course the man of many secrets would turn out to be a semi-professional. Or he just really wanted a free drink. “Shoko and I used to play all the time when we were younger.”

It’s your time to shine. You step up to the table and ready your shot. “You’re doing it wrong.” Nanami smirks at your rigid form.You’re stiff as a board, awkwardly hovering the stick over the table. “Then show me, Mr. Professional.” Nanami moves from his spot across the table and positions himself right behind you. He places one hand on your stomach, arching your back out to him, and lets the other rest on your waist. “Now place your hands here.” He moves your right hand to grasp the pool stick; your left hand rests on the table forming a hand bridge toward the end of the stick. “Line up the shot and pull back when you’re ready.” He guides you to move, yet never adjusts his position from behind you. Hell, if you moved even an inch back, you’d ram right into him. You couldn’t say you minded though. 

Just as instructed, you line up your shot and pull back. Once you release, the pool stick makes perfect  contact with the cue ball. It spins for a moment, then promptly hits a striped ball into one of the six pockets. “Good shot.” His breath tickles your ear as he speaks. “Now do that about 8 more times and you’ll win.” You line up your second shot and- “Fuck.” The cue ball bounces off the side of the table and right into one of the pockets. “You’re overthinking it. Try not to be so stiff.” His tone is soft, sickly sweet almost.“Relax yourself.” He gives you a simple smirk as you relax, albeit into him. His strong hands hold on to your shoulders, kneading into them gently. Were you not in the middle of a game, you’d melt into his touch. Right here, right now.“

Easy for you to say. You’ve got like 4 balls left!” You whine, and his smirk grows wider. “Anything could happen.” Cocky. Such an easy claim for the blond to make! He was practically prodding a reaction out of you. And you would give it to him. A slap on the arm that he’d hope would linger for a second longer, but you pull away to align your next shot.

It had to be a fluke. The two of you were tied; it could’ve been anyone's game. But Nanami slipped up, knocking the 8 ball right into one of the pockets a turn early. Meaning you had won. Despite his banter with you about playing, he didn’t seem all that upset about the loss. “Alright, winner. Name your prize.”

“Kiss me?” You test the waters, careful not to scare him off. Be it the adrenaline rush from winning or the liquor, something emboldened your choice of prize. Nanami didn’t seem opposed either. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him as you lean in. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, as you lose yourself in the intoxicating taste and feel of him. Nanami is the one to deepen the kiss, pinning you against the table with his thigh. You let your hands fall to his shirt collar, playing with it and pulling him in closer.

As he cast a pointed look towards the bartender across the room, it became clear that Nanami had no intentions of letting anyone encroach on what was rightfully his. His lips trail down your jawline, leaving a trail of wet kisses in their wake, and finally rests against the sweet spot between your neck and shoulders. Nanami nips at the skin, deep enough to leave a mark. You pull away, trying to catch your breath. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you lost on purpose.” You smile, fixing the creases in his shirt collar. Nanami’s bruised lips pull into a cocky grin as he brushes his thumb over your lips. “Don’t doubt your ability. If anything, call it a newfound talent.”

“And what if I wanted to take this celebration somewhere more private?” You raise your brows, desperate to keep going  but without prying eyes. Nanami picks up on your request immediately, releasing you from the pool table. Possessive, his grasp pulls you close. It’s firm but gentle, a simple comfort as he leads you. You both shuffle into the small bathroom and lock the door. And right now, more than ever, you’re grateful for the deep drumming of the thunder and the loud pour of the rain. 

[jeridandridge]

hiii idk if you’re taking request, but if you are, could you do one with melissa schemmenti x reader where mel finds out r is still friends with her ex and mel gets insecure because of her and how much older she is compared to r and her ex and stuff like that. it could be fluff/comfort or smutty, whatever you feel more comfortable with! thank you!

Ok SO I put two requests together and this is what happened. I hope you dig it! 💜

Realizations

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with me? We can kick ass at bar trivia together!” You ask your girlfriend again just to make sure.

“Nah that’s okay, hon. I’m gonna get some reading done, you have fun with your friends.” She smiles looking up from her phone.

You and Melissa had been dating for almost a year and found a perfect balance between your life together and still having separate friends, something you hadn’t experienced before in other relationships. The redhead packs up her things to head home as you lean against her desk.

“Maybe I can come over after?” You smirk coming up behind her.

“You are a cuddly drunk.” Melissa laughs turning to kiss your cheek. “Hows about I come pick you up. I feel better doing that than having some random Uber get you.”

“That’ll be nice. I’m not going crazy with drinks tonight, just a few.” You smile as she turns in your arms. Wrapping your arms around her waist you kiss her nose. “Let me walk you to your car.”

Outside a few minutes later you and Melissa stand, lips locked together in the almost empty parking lot. “Okay okay, I’ll see you later.” Melissa laughs resting her hands on your shoulders.

“I can’t help it, your lips are so kissable.” You tease kissing her cheek. With another kiss you head off, going to your apartment to get ready.

Every time you go back to your apartment, you feel a little weird. It’s warm and cozy how you wanted your own space to be, but Melissa’s house really felt like home.

Getting out of your work clothes you turn on the shower and smile seeing a notification from the group chat on your phone.

Hours later, you sit with a drink laughing at the table with your friends, having a conversation with your somewhat ex, Darcy.

“She’s just amazing, Darce.” You beam gushing about your girlfriend.

“I’ve never seen you like this!” The red head laughs. “Not even when we had our thing going on.”

You laugh into your beer bottle, Darcy laughing right along with you. “I had to say it, it was right there.”

“See this is why we’re friends.”

You met Darcy a year after your move to Philly when you were between jobs and fresh out of a relationship. You both hit it off, basically becoming each others booty call until it felt too strange. You both were so similar, you knew it would be better if you two were just friends.

“Seriously though, this is the best relationship I’ve ever had.” You beam, not divulging too much about your girlfriend, but just enough.

After dancing, singing, and catching up with your friends over a couple drinks it’s almost midnight when you decide to call it, wanting to go home to Melissa.

Standing outside in the spring air you happily scroll through the ridiculous pictures you’d taken that night before you see Melissa pull up to the curb.

“Hi baby,” you beam climbing up into the truck leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“Hi Tesoro,” she chuckles. “How was your night?”

“So fun, I crushed Bad Romance as per usual and had a couple drinks.”

“You and Jacob with your love of lady Gaga.” She laughs reaching over for your hand.

“She’s the best, Mel!”

When you two get back to Melissa’s she stops in the kitchen to grab you a water bottle before you two head upstairs, your eyes glued to her. She was so cute in her flannel pajama pants and an old Run DMC shirt.

“I can feel you staring at my ass.”

Quirking a brow you wrap your arms around your love when you get to the top of the stairs. “Can you blame me? You’re gorgeous.”

“Cmon, Romeo. Let’s lay down and relax.” She teases you.

In the bathroom you take off your make up and brush your teeth, realizing you had your own drawer in the bathroom for some time now. It made you smile. Coming back into the bedroom Melissa’s already wrapped up in the sheets with her book and her glasses on the side table. You change into one of her eagles shirts and call it a night climbing into bed with her.

“Next time you have to come with me, you can beat all the bears at pool.” You chuckle through a yawn wrapping your arm around her, your head near her shoulder.

She laughs kissing your temple. “Deal.”

The next morning you wake up to the smell of coffee and 40s swing music undoubtedly coming from the kitchen. Stretching out in bed with a smile on your face you get up and get ready for your day before grabbing your phone and heading downstairs.

“Good morning.” Melissa smiles from the counter, a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of fresh fruit sit. “Move that stuff to the table, the pancakes are almost done.”

“I love you, you know that?” You smile at the redhead, always surprised when she does something sweet like this.

“Ti amo, Tesoro,” she smiles pecking your lips.

At the table you sip your coffee and pop a few grapes into your mouth as Melissa comes over with the pancakes. “Oh my god are these the cinnamon ones?”

“It’s pancake Saturday, I had to make the special ones.” She grins sitting at her side of the table.

“You’re too good to me, Mel.” You smile putting one of the fluffy pastry’s on your plate. Almost a year into your relationship you were reminded every day how much Melissa loved you.

“I kinda like you a little.” She teases with a wink.

As you two have breakfast you talk about the previous night grabbing your phone to show her a ridiculous video your friend took of you singing.

“No, it’s the worst.” You laugh scrolling through everything until Melissa’s hand reaches over and stops you.

“Wait, go back to the group one.” She nods. You give her a curious look and scroll back, showing her the phone screen. You and all the girls were sat around a high table top, you had a beer bottle to your lips and your other arm resting on the table as your friend Kate took a wide angled selfie of all of you.

“How do you know Darcy?” Melissa asks, her cheeks flushed and her heart pounding in her chest.

“How do you know my ex?” You ask with a laugh, looking at the horror spreading across her face.

“She’s my niece.”

All the color drains from you. Your ears are muffled, the music from the speaker suddenly sounding like you’re underwater.

“Your ex.” Melissa slumps back in the chair, her eyes not moving from the picture now burned into her retinas. She feels old. Too old. She was running around with a thirty something, a thirty something that slept with her niece.

“Ex isn’t even the right word, we hooked up a few times and realized we’re better as friends.” You admit speaking faster than usual.

“You’re ex fuck buddies?!” She booms standing up, her hands going to her head. “Oh my god oh my god!”

You jump up moving to touch her shoulder but she backs up like you’re on fire. “Why didn’t you tell me you dated my niece?!”

“I didn’t know she was your niece, Mel.” You say trying to calm her down. “We didn’t even really talk about my exes, it was just a quick thing when I first moved here!” You explain desperately. You can’t lose Melissa. You can’t.

The redhead paces the kitchen trying to slow her heart rate. You, her much younger girlfriend, were her nieces booty call. The niece she saw being born when Kristen was in the hospital, the niece whose diapers she changed and took to the zoo as a baby.

“How did relatives not come up?” She mumbles.

“I didn’t get to know her really, It wasn’t like a dinner and talk situation,” you explain tossing your hands in the air. “She told me her dad wasn’t around and she doesn’t speak to her mother. That’s all I knew.”

Melissa shakes her head, her thoughts moving a mile a minute behind watery eyes. It was bad enough you were friends with your ex, it was even worse that it was Darcy. “I think you should go home. ” Her voice shakes, eyes not meeting yours. She can’t look at you, all she can picture is you rolling around in bed with another woman.

Her words hit you like a train. She was your home, now you were being pushed away. “Mel, please talk to me. I’m-“ your voice cracks.

“Go!” She hisses.

Her tone didn’t leave any room for you to argue with her. She was erily quiet and had a look on her face you’ve never seen before. As the tears fall from your eyes you move briskly grabbing your phone and your shoes by the door. Outside you go down the walkway slipping your shoes on and sitting with your face in your hands.

Inside the house, Melissa picks up her phone and calls her estranged niece.

When you get out of the Uber and get up to your apartment you lock the door behind you finally letting out the sob youd been holding in the car.

“Fuck!” You yell kicking the door, your foot aching before you down to the floor, gripping your head in your hands. It wasn’t fair. This shouldn’t be a big deal, you didn’t know Melissa when you hooked up with Darcy and you had absolutely no idea they were related until this morning.

Later that day you’re still on your couch staring at your phone, hoping for anything from Melissa. Once the clock hits 11pm you give up and go to your dark bedroom, trying to get comfortable in a bed you were no longer used to. As your lip wobbles and your eyes burn You bring the hoodie you were wearing of Melissa’s up to your nose, taking in her scent as your turn and look at the small framed photo of you and her on your nightstand. This wasnt how your weekend was supposed to go.

When Monday morning comes you stand in your bathroom blending in concealer to cover the dark circles under your eyes. You’d been too upset to go anywhere Saturday or Sunday, and you ignored the calls and texts from your friends. If it wasn’t Melissa, you didn’t care. After multiple voicemails are left, you’re sure she blocked your number.

When you get to Abbott you don’t bother going to the teachers lounge instead you go upstairs to your classroom, trying to focus on the days tasks by preparing the chalkboard and putting out the worksheets for your first 8th grade class. You drop the piece of chalk and with a sigh look down at

it on the floor in defeat.

You go through the motions of your morning classes, happy when it’s time for lunch. Outside, you run into Barb giving her a soft smile not giving her enough time to say anything before you get in your car. When you drive off you have no idea Melissa is in her classroom with Darcy.

“Wow, Aunt Melissa this room is so you.” The younger redhead chuckles looking around the room.

“Thanks, hon. Look, I gotta talk to you about y/n.”

Darcy looks at her aunt with a curious look causing Melissa to pull her phone out showing her a picture of the two of you.

“Oh my god you’re the girlfriend!” She points, “oh god you’re the girlfriend,” she realizes with wide eyes. “Well this is awkward.”

“Yeah,” Melissa scoffs. “I didn’t know she was friends with her ex and I didn’t know YOU were her ex.” She crosses her arms.

Darcy sets her bag down on Melissa’s desk with a sigh. “Look, I know you’re probably freaking out, but y/n couldn’t stop talking about you the other night. Well, I didn’t know it was you, she didn’t tell me her girlfriends name, but you should’ve seen her, Aunt Mel.” She smiles. “She was buzzing.”

Melissa deflates slightly, slowly turning off defense mode. “If this proved anything it’s that I’m too old.”

“Are you kiddin me?” Darcy rolls her eyes.

Melissa shrugs. “Maybe it’s a-“

Darcy’s phone starts to ring, and lo and behold she flips the phone screen out so she can see your name. The younger woman answers and puts it on speaker.

“Hey, y/n!”

“Hey, do you got a minute?”

Melissa’s ears perk up, her heart dropping at the tiredness in your voice.

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“Listen uh, god this is weird,” you sigh. “have you talked to your Aunt Melissa recently?”

Darcy looks at Melissa who’s shaking her head and waving her hand.

“How do you know I have an aunt Melissa?” Darcy plays along with a laugh.

You sigh resting your head against the seat. “Well, she’s my girlfriend, or was, I don’t know about that now since I fucked up like I always do but she saw that picture of all of us from Saturday and I told her we had a thing after I moved here. everything just came crashing down after that. I wanted to know if she called you or anything. I just-“ you ramble taking in a breath. “Can you let me know if you talk to her please?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry this happened. I’ll talk to her and see what I can do.”

“Don’t go out of your way to do it,” you sigh. “Itll be a lost cause no matter what. Anyway, thanks.”

You two say your goodbyes and Darcy crosses her arms much like her aunt, giving her a look. “Did that sound suspicious to you, Aunt Mel?”

Melissa shakes her head. “It doesn’t change the fact that when I was changing your diapers someone was doing the same for her. I’m too old for this. And now I thought of things I can’t un-see.”

Darcy moves to grab her bag looking at her aunt almost like a parent would look at a child. “That’s ridiculous and you know it. I remember you with Joe, he never talked about you the way y/n did that night.”

With that final comment she leaves her aunt in her classroom.

*

It’s two weeks before you see Melissa again. Whenever you were in the school you were in your classroom and after that you’d go home to wallow. In that time you realize that your chapter at Abbott needs to come to a close. The once friendly environment becomes awkward, even Ava commented on the tension to you in the hall one day.

Jacob tosses his sandwich down on the table with a huff. “I can’t take it anymore!”

This gets everyone’s attention, Janine puts a hand on his shoulder as the two older teachers look over at him not expecting the outburst.

“We can hear a pin drop in here, even Janine is afraid to talk!” He points out.

“Calm down, kid.”

“No! This is ridiculous,” he sulks, “y/n should be in here and you two should be all gross together making us question how tough you actually are, Melissa but no she’s leaving and you’re all sad and quiet.”

Melissa’s entire body turns in the chair. “The hell you mean she’s leaving? She’s not leaving.” She turns to look at Barb who gives her a sympathetic smile.

It’d only been two weeks in Melissa’s mind. That wasn’t enough time to make such a rash decision she thinks. She also knows she made a snap decision in two seconds.

“Everyone but me knew?” The red head booms looking at them all. Jacob still looks annoyed, and everyone else looks at her like they’re sorry. Even Janine who couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.

Melissa has heard enough. She gets up and barrels out of the room straight for the stairs to the second floor. In your classroom you hear heeled boots getting closer and closer as you pop another pretzel into your mouth. Not trying to get excited over the once familiar sound, you keep your eyes on your computer going over the email on the screen.

“Hey,” a gruff voice sounds as the door slams.

Biting the inside of you cheek you keep your eyes on the computer screen. “What can I do for you, Miss Schemmenti?” You let out in a monotone voice.

That hurt. Out of the corner of your eye you see the redhead stands with her arms crossed, one of her many defense mechanisms you were always able to clock off hers.

“Are you really leaving?”

You turn putting all your attention on her with a quirked brow.

“I have an interview Monday if you need to know.”

“Don’t go.” She lets out quietly.

You can’t help but let out a humorless laugh despite the urge to get up and hug her. “Weeks ago you told me to go, you don’t return any of my calls or texts, you avoid me like the plague, now you’re telling me to stay? You of all people don’t get a say in that.”

“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry.” Melissa fights back tears. “Can I just say something?”

You stand up, mirroring her energy nodding for her to go on.

“I know I hurt you. I know that. This has everything to do with me, not you.” She starts, really wearing her heart on her sleeve for the first time in her life. “When I saw that, I don’t know. My age just really hit me. I changed Darcy’s diapers for gods sake.” She lets out in a sad laugh. “I was stupid enough to think this could work.”

Before she can say anything else you cut her off balling your hands into fists. “But it was working! We were happy!”

Melissa nods biting her lip. “I know you were. Darcy told me. She was here when you called her.

“Of course she was.” You scoff with a laugh. “I knew I heard an echo from her end.”

“I hated how you sounded on the phone that day.”

“Yeah well I was up for over 48 hours at that point, I wasn’t gonna sound all peachy.” You shoot back. “Is that all you wanted to say? Because that could’ve been an easy text. There’s no use torturing the both of us with a visit like this. Let’s try to make this last month of school bearable, yeah?”

Melissa finds her voice again standing up straight. “Cancel that interview.”

“Why would I do that, Melissa?” You all but growl crossing your arms again. “I can’t even have lunch in the break room here anymore because everyone’s so tense and weird. Why would I stay here where I’m not wanted?”

Melissa takes a few strides forward, her hands cupping your flushed cheeks before her lips crash into yours, moving slow and sweet. You don’t kiss her back at first, complete shock hitting you first. When you realize what’s happening you melt against her lips slipping your arms around her waist. You missed her touch, her scent, the little noise she makes when your hand finds its way to her hair pulling her a little roughly.

“I knew y’all would work it out!” You hear from other side of your classroom. Breaking the kiss abruptly you keep your arms around Melissa looking to see Ava.

“Ava I swear to god.” You roll your eyes. Your boss stands there with her hip cocked out, phone in hand. “Good thing I didn’t fill out that transfer paperwork. Git it, girl.” She winks before closing your door again.

Melissa grins and you can’t keep up your angry attitude. “You need to stop calling yourself old. Old ladies don’t kiss like that.”

The red head reaches out to wipe her lipgloss from your lip with her thumb.

“Yeah? Well you’re not a kid. I’m sorry, Tesoro.”

You meet her eyes shaking your head. “Don’t do that to me again. Just talk to me.”

Melissa nods gently stroking your cheek with her thumb.

Your phone chiming over and over again pulls you out of the little bubble you’ve created. Confused by the sudden influx of notifications you pull the device from your pocket, rolling your eyes when you see the group chat.

“Ava must’ve told them.” You smile down at the texts. Looking at it Melissa takes the phone setting it on your desk before she’s pulling you into another loving Kiss.