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#happy new year too hon
elegyofthemoon · 9 months
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i want to change my mobile theme but also. have to make a list of ideas for what i even wanna change it to.... and even then might bug yall to pick for me bc i am! indecisive :D
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strawburry01 · 1 month
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The Scientist
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Ford Pines x Fem! Reader
Summary: Bill disrupts a wedding
Word Count: 3k
A/N: I highly recommend reading all previous parts before this for maximum oof-age. I hope you enjoy and I'm sorry I get great satisfaction from writing unhappy things. 500 likes and I'll write their happy ending.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 2.5
It had been a few years since you and Ford moved to Gravity Falls now. You finally moved from your ramshackle cabin into a cozy wooden A-Frame (you insisted on an A-Frame as you always loved the way they looked). Ford and you had worked on building a deep lab in the basement in order to keep it safe from the random storms and power outages, while you kept your growing photography and videography library upstairs. You collected random antiques from stores and sidewalks to add to the house to make it feel a little more lived in. Ford chuckled as he watched you perfectly balance an ornate hourglass you had bought on top of a jammed globe. Satisfied you brushed the dust off your hands and stepped besides Ford to look at your growing mantelpiece.
“I’m thinking about going into interior design if this whole cryptid hunting stuff doesn’t work out,” you grinned. Ford scoffed and put an arm around your waist to pull you closer.
“The whole cryptid hunting stuff is going fine though. I’m just having a bit of a plateau,” he mumbled as he kissed your head. You cleared your throat. “We- we’re having a bit of a plateau,” he quickly corrected himself, his face turning red. 
It was true, the hunting had been stalling a little bit. Ford’s focus had turned from recording these anomalies to trying to track where it was all exactly coming from. It was the real scientist in him needing to know where everything was coming from. On the opposite side was you, who was content to continue trying to get better pictures, better recordings, better visuals of these anomalies. Oftentimes you’d tape or clip pictures into Ford’s journals as you got better so they didn’t just have his scribbles to describe the beasts. You were happy for once in your life, you felt content living with the love of your life in a beautiful, albeit spooky, little town. You were pretty sure Ford felt the same way, if he ever let himself feel accomplished, rather than just continuing to pine over the next question and torturing himself over the solutions.
A few weeks later you woke up groggily checking the alarm. Ford had just slammed the front door and was stumbling back into the house. It was 3:00 am. 
“Hon?” you shouted out as you sat up in your shared bed. You heard him pause and slowly walk to the bedroom door. He stood in the doorway, staring at you for a second too long until shaking his head and snapping back.
“Hey, sorry about that dear, I um-” he said as he slid his shoes and coat off onto the ground, “guess I lost track of time in the cave I was exploring,”. He huffed and thumped into bed besides you as you went back under the covers.
“Are you sure?” you asked, as you carefully took his glasses off his face and set them on the nightstand.
“Mmmm, positive,” he said without hesitation as he traced along your arm with his eyes closed.
“Alright. Sleep well hon,” you said as you kissed his forehead and fell back into your own sleep.
Unfortunately he wasn’t quite the same after that night. He started spending longer hours in the basement. He started staring off into space noticeably more. And strangest of all he was talking to himself more. He was still the same Ford to you though, always snapping out of whatever trance he wrapped himself up into, and he was always endlessly grateful whenever you’d bring coffee or lunch down to him. He seemed revitalized in a sense though, so you didn’t want to discourage his new quirks. You finally did crack and force him to tell you what was happening when you caught him calling Fiddleford McGuckett one day.
“Stanford Pines you haven’t talked to that man since we left Backupsmore! What in the hell is going on?” you demanded with crossed arms as he hung up the phone. He opened his mouth and tried to start a sentence a few times. 
“I’m building a portal,” he finally stammered out. You raised an eyebrow. There were a few random metal supports and debris cluttered in the lab basement, but you had no inkling that’s what it was going to be used for.
“What kind…of portal?” you continued, unmoving. Ford awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and looked away again. 
“I’ve been consulting with someone. They said it would explain all the weirdness and strangeness of Gravity Falls,” he said. The room got cold when he said it.
“Who are you consulting Ford,” you asked again, trying not to overthink the way it really did feel like there was another person in the room now. 
“It was a deal. With someone, well, something, named Bill Cipher. He’s helping me with all of this. He’s a being from centuries ago, and that’s all I can really say,” he sighed, looking back at you, realizing how unsure of all of this you were. He stepped forward and held your hands in his. “I promise, it’s all okay dear. I’m being safe. This portal is what will put our names in the history books,” he said with a gentle squeeze. You looked up into his eyes and could see hope and excitement for the first time in a long time. 
“Okay…” you sighed with a small smile. Ford wrapped you into a hug and you laughed at him slightly crushing you. “Okay, okay, okay, just let me know what I can do to help huh?” you laughed with a sigh as Ford began rambling off all the next steps. 
Later that night you sat in your dark room, listening to the assorted thumps and sizzles from the basement. You could hear Ford talking to whoever this Bill person was. His high pitched shrieking of a voice was hard to miss. But you knew if you went downstairs there wouldn’t be anyone but Ford. You’d tried to catch Bill before, but to no avail. He always zapped out of existence whenever you would turn the corner. 
“Stupid to be jealous of a fuckin’ triangle,” you mumbled to yourself as you finished a glass of wine. You knew that much. That it was some sort of manic triangle. Ford had shown you that much in his journal. You walked down to your kitchen and left the glass in the sink.
“Ford! I’m going to bed!” you shouted down the stairs into the basement. You heard him scuffle and quickly run up the stairs. Your heart melted as he held your face and kissed you. 
“I’ll be there soon dearest,” he smiled. You smiled back and nodded. You were just overthinking everything. It was all going to be okay.
Fiddleford showed up a few days later and started joining Ford in the basement for long hours. Bill’s voice disappeared which was a nice break, and it was pleasant getting to talk to Fiddleford again after so many years. You would make dinner (or more often pick it up from some restaurant) and force the guys to come up and eat with you at the table. It was like you were all back in university. 
“So how long until there’s a mini Ford running around?” Fiddleford asked one night when you all decided to get into the liquor cabinet. Fiddleford was laying on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling, with you and Ford draped over the couch. Both of you reddened and avoided eye contact, unable to think of what to say.
“Well I’ve always thought I’d want to get married first,” you said, breaking the silence, “so the dress would fit, obviously,” you drunkenly giggled. Ford absentmindedly placed a hand on your knee and laughed as he took another swig of his drink. You two had talked about marriage once. Near the beginning of your relationship. You both had poor representations of marriage at your respective homes, which made you both hesitant of commitment to that scale, but you agreed to play it by ear. 4 years later you were still playing it by ear.
“What’re you WAITING FOR FORD,” Fiddleford drunkenly shouted from the floor, “We don’t have all day!” he declared before passing out in snores on the floor. You laughed and laid your head on Ford’s shoulder.
“He hasn’t changed much,” you giggled. 
“His tolerance hasn’t gotten much better either,” Ford remarked. You two both sat in silence listening to the hum of the generators. “Are you good dear?” he asked, obviously referencing Fiddleford’s outbursts.
“Yes love,” you sighed, as you closed your eyes.
It was another average drizzly pacific northwest day when shit hit the fan. You were sitting on the porch taking pictures of a deer nearby eating from a brush when the ground underneath you shook. You were used to random earthly shakings but Fiddleford quickly stormed out shortly after. 
“Fiddleford what’s-” you tried to ask as you stood up to follow after him. 
“Do NOT trust him!” he shouted as he threw open his car door, “That portal is nothing but pure evil Y/N. Get out of here while you still can,” he said with a furrowed brow before peeling away in his car. You stood in stunned silence as Ford threw the door open a few seconds later. He let out a defeated sigh as he saw Fiddleford driving away.
“What the hell did you do?!” you asked under your breath, not looking over.
“I-I don’t know,” Ford said, “he got sucked into the portal…and saw something,”.
“You’d tell me if we were in danger, right Ford?” you asked, as you finally looked over at him. He nodded silently. 
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he stated, “I’m not working with Bill anymore. It’s not worth it,” he sighed as he sat on the porch and held his head in his hands. “I got blinded by the potential for fame. It’s not worth losing my friends and love over,” he said softly. You sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. He wrapped his arms around your waist and the two of you sat still as the rain pattered around you. You never told him but you could feel him crying, just a little. 
Ford quickly began installing precautions to keep Bill out. He insisted on installing a plethora of metal plates around the house. He kept trying to convince you to get a metal plate installed in your head but you were able to convince him you weren’t in danger. You’d never seen Bill before. The rain turned into spring and flowers began to blossom around the yard. 
One day you were out picking them to make a bouquet for the dining table with Ford watching you on the porch. He was back to where he had been before meeting Bill, but he seemed more content. Outwardly at least. He read more, and criticized himself less. He was taking a break from reading when he saw you standing in the field picking flowers and kneeling by every animal you saw to say hello to it. At that moment he realized.
“Can we get married?” he asked, when you came back to the porch. You nearly fell backwards before jumping into Ford’s lap, knocking off his book, and smothering him in kisses.
“Of course we can Ford,” you said through your kisses.
It was a short turnaround. The next week Ford had found his suit and you had gotten a wedding dress from town. It was long and flowing and got Ford’s approval for having renaissance-esque sleeves and details, which made you roll your eyes a little. You two didn’t know anyone else in town well enough to invite them to a ceremony, and neither of you wanted to invite family. Ford felt guilty about having nobody so he invited the colony of gnomes in exchange for hors d’oeuvres. So that’s what was determined. You were able to scrounge up enough random chairs to have a few spots for them to sit with you and Ford facing each other in front. You had done your makeup and hair, which was the first time Ford had ever really seen you try to do something with your hair which left him slack jawed. All of the gnomes also oohed and awed when you stepped out. You smiled when you faced Ford. The two of you agreed to exchange vows and then you’d sign the marriage certificate and turn it in the next day at the courthouse. 
You bit your lip and opened your mouth to start when the ground shook and the string lights you had hung up went out. The power inside the house went out entirely. 
“Peculiar,” Ford said under his breath. 
“Just a moment folks, we’ll be right back after a few messages,” you said, trying to keep the crowd happy, “take a snack break,” you said, gesturing to the table of random snacks you’d gotten for them all. 
“I can turn the breaker back on downstairs,” Ford said as he stepped into the house.
“Here I think I have the flashlight,” you said as you thumped the flashlight you kept in the utensil drawer. It flickered to life. Ford took a second and nodded. The two of you made your way downstairs to the lab basement, Ford supplying a six-fingered hand to hold to make sure you didn’t trip. 
Once downstairs it was obvious that something was wrong. The portal was still up and whirring. A haze of blue swirls in its center.
“Ford I thought you turned this off,” you said.
“I couldn’t just- turn it off,” he mumbled under his breath rubbing the back of his neck, “it’s been months of work. I figured leaving it running and able to be returned to would be…fine,” he said sheepishly. You chewed the inside of your cheek, looking at it. He had a point, but it was also a memento to losing his dearest friend. Research be damned.
“Ford, I need to know you’re looking to the future and not staying in the past if we get married,” you said, feeling guilty about the ultimatum, but knowing it was the only way. He pushed up his glasses and nodded.
“You’re right,” he said, “besides, there’ll be something better than this piece of junk,”. He pushed the button on a platform and the portal quickly fizzled and closed in on itself, leaving the room engulfed in darkness for a second before the lights flickered back on overhead. 
“Hey look at that,” you remarked, looking up, “bet our electricity bill is about to get a lot lower mister,” you smirked as you tapped Ford’s chest.
“Stanford, you didn’t tell me she had a sense of humor!” a sickeningly familiar voice said. Ford quickly pushed you behind him as you both turned to see the floating triangle form of Bill Cipher in the air. It was your first time seeing the thing that had taken up so much of Ford’s time.
“Bill, why are you here? The deal’s off,” Ford shouted.
“I can’t believe I didn’t get an invite to the wedding! Keeping it intimate with just friends and family I see,” Bill continued on his own as his eye contorted into a video of the gnomes outside waiting.
“Answer the question Bill,” Ford demanded. You hadn’t seen him ever get this serious. 
“Well Fordsy you broke our deal, but don’t worry, there’s a way to get it back on track!” Bill’s voice pinged through the basement, “Y’see, you take something I love-” he said, blinking into the now empty space of the portal. You gripped Ford’s forearm.
“Ford I’m scared-” you said softly.
“I think it’s only fair if I take something you love,” Bill chirped, appearing in front of you two again.
“Don’t you dare Bill,” Ford shouted as he held your hand. 
“Not convincing! Boop!” Bill’s voice pinged and with that, you were gone. 
One moment you were on Earth, in your universe, and the next thing you knew you were falling through space and time, seeing eons of other planets pass by as you floated through free fall. 
After what felt like decades of falling through nothingness, but also everything, you slammed into the dirt of an apocalyptic planet. You grunted as you lifted yourself up, seeing the smoky, forgotten landscape stretch out in front of you. 
Fuck.
Back in the basement, millions of universes and timelines away, Ford screamed at Bill. 
“What did you do to her?!”.
“I evened the deal, Stanford calm down!” Bill responded, rolling his single eye, “besides she was getting in the way of your work, you should be thanking me,”. 
After that, Ford’s world changed. He installed a metal plate in his head to keep Bill out for good and got serious about trying to hide how to reinstall the portal. He hid his journals throughout the town and decided to call his brother to properly take care of the last one. Take it so far that nobody would ever find it. He’d get you back on his own. He’d figure it out. He just couldn’t let Bill ever get the satisfaction of the portal. 
There was a knock on the door and Ford kicked it open, crossbow aimed. It was his brother. He breathed out a sigh of relief and dragged him in.
“Damn what happened to this place? What happened to your woman Ford?” Stan asked, looking around the now cluttered house.
“He took my wife, and I need to make sure he doesn’t take anything else from anyone else,” Ford muttered, “listen there isn’t much time and I’ve made a huge mistake. I don’t know who I can trust anymore,”.
“Hey easy there let’s talk this through okay?” Stan said as he looked around the house, slowly realizing his brother may be crazy.
“I have something to show you. Something you won’t believe,” Ford sighed as he turned to face his brother.
“Look, I’ve been around the world okay? Whatever you’re going to show me I’ll understand,” Stan shrugged.
It was safe to say Stan did not understand. And Stan did not understand when Ford shoved the journal into his chest demanding his brother to take it to the ends of the earth to hide. 
It was safe to say that you and Ford were both tumbling through endless dimensions together, but also so far apart.
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imthebadguyyy · 4 months
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so high school
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pairing : bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader
fandom : top gun
synopsis : being in love makes you feel oh so high school!!
series : the tortured poets department
warnings : smut
a/n : loved loved loved writing this!! happy reader
you couldn't quite tell what it was about bradley 'rooster' bradshaw that had you hooked. but something just did. the world of naval aviators was close knit, and you had been friends with phoenix and fanboy for as long as you could remember, even graduating top gun together.
it wasn't until many years later that you received a letter, asking you to go to fightertown san diego for a special mission. thats it. thats all they told you.
so before you knew it, you were cruising down the coast in your bike, hair whipping in the breeze, trying to find the bar phoenix had told you she would be at. you spotted it soon enough, glimmering brightly near the shining sea, and you parked and made your way inside.
it was packed full of other aviators, you spotted phoenix, hangman, coyote, payback and fanboy playing a game of pool and making snarky remarks at each other.
"cherry!" a cheery voice called you, and you offered your best friend your sweetest smile. "hi phoenix! i missed you" you laughed, pulling her into a hug, that she reciprocated, kissing your temple affectionately.
"cherry!" fanboy said, wrestling you into a tight hug to rub your head affectionately as you pretended to be annoyed, swatting at his arm.
"didn't know you were here too hon" phoenix said, offering you a bottle of beer.
"yep, got the call to ride at dawn" you said dramatically, sinking into a chair, shaking your jacket off your shoulders, draping the black leather jacket over the back of the chair.
"well if they're calling in the big guns guess the mission must be important" pheonix teased, affectionately rubbing your shoulder again.
"cherry, meet bob, phoenix's new backseater from leemore" payback said, gesturing to a quiet man with glasses who was eating peanuts in the corner. "hello, I'm bob" he said, smiling at you and shaking your hand. "I'm y/n, cherry" you smiled.
just as you were about turn to greet coyote, the door opened and a man clad in a hawaiian shirt walked in, aviators hiding his eyes, with a slight swagger to his walk as he walked in, sliding his glasses slightly lower down his nose as he greeted phoenix . he had the most perfect looking moustache you had ever seen, and for a split second you wondered how it would feel brushed up against every part of you.
you bit back a giggle as phoenix hit him in the stomach with her pool stick, that instantly had his eyes snapping to your face.
bradley didn't know what hit him as he looked at your face. well, apart from phoenix's poolstick. he felt like all the wind has been sucked from his lungs as he looked at you, drinking in your pretty eyes and curved lips, plush and full, seeing the way your hand was wrapped around a cold bottle of beer. he felt his heartbeat speed up so fast he had to steady himself on his unsteady feet. you looked ethereal.
"and who are you?" he asked, taking his aviators off to tuck them into his pocket as he leaned against nat's shoulder, offering you a smile that had your heart beating way faster than it should have.
"y/n, cherry" you smiled, extending your hand for a handshake. bradley grabbed your hand, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of it that had a warm flushed heat creeping up to your cheek.
"I'm rooster, bradley" he said, sinking into a chair next to yours.
"nice to meet you" you smiled at him, draining the last of your beer. "can I get you another?" he said, already getting ready to stand. "thats okay rooster, I'll go get one myself" you hurried to get up as well, but he just took you by the elbow, leading you to the bar. "please let me. what sort of a gentleman would i be if I didn't buy a pretty girl a drink?" he smirked mischievously and you forced down a smile, hiding it with an eye roll.
"please, nat talks about you and I know for a fact how much of a ladykiller you are" you said, smiling at the woman behind the bar who introduced herself as penny. "put it on my tab, penny my dear!" rooster called and earned a smile from the woman.
"damn, phoenix is destroying my shot before I even had a chance huh? he sighed, only a little resigned. "but I promise, I'm not like that anymore, I'm older and wiser now" he said, looking at you hesitantly. you couldn't help but laugh, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.
"I'm just messing with you" you giggled, accepting the cold beer gratefully and clinking your bottle with his.
you found yourself lost in conversation with him, laughing and chattering like long lost friends. you told him all about knowing nat and fanboy, about your hobbies, what got you into aviation. he spoke about his love for music, his love for aviators, and surprisingly, about his dad.
he watched the way your eyes softened, not in the way that people did with pity, but with understanding. and you reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. "I'm sorry that happened to you bradley" you said, voice as delicate as a feather. "thank you" he said, stroking a hand over your thumb.
"hey,wanna see something cool?" he asked, already leading you over to the piano. "you gonna play a song bradshaw?" you laughed, choosing to lean against the piano as he settled into the seat. you recognised the opening notes of great balls of fire.
bradley's voice was as warm as whiskey, rough around the edges and ragged in a way that took your breath away and made a little something spark in between your thighs.
"kiss me baby!" he sang, throwing you a cheeky wink that had phoenix nudging your side. "that feels good, baby" he smirked, letting his tongue wet his lips as he watched your body twitch a little.
"I'm off to love you like a lover should" he crooned, fingers dancing across the ivory keys as you hummed along.
after he finished, you watched him get swarmed with people, and whooping and cheering for him, before the chants of "rooster! rooster! rooster! rooster!" filled the room and you clapped along before slinking back to the bar.
"hey whered you go?" bradley's warm voice made his way over to you. "just wanted a moment and another beer" you said and he grinned, already passing you a cold one again, letting his fingers brush yours again.
"cmon, let's go on a drive" he said, gently tugging your hand and paying his bill quickly. "thanks for that, by the way" you said, beaming up at him gratefully. "anytime pretty girl" he said, leading you put to where a beautiful Bronco was parked.
"thats a beautiful car" you said, stopping to admire it. "whose is it?" you continued, staring curiously. "it's mine" he said proudly, grinning when you gasped. "it's so pretty!"
"thank you, it's my baby" he said, and you felt your heart flutter. "come, let me show you the sights" he said, getting your car door for you in a way that had you feeling a little ooey gooey on the inside and had you thinking "isn't that sweet?"
and as you drive off into the night, the moon illuminating the sea, you felt oh so high school.
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the hard deck was buzzing with energy, music playing in the background as the squad enjoyed a rare night off. you, bradley and the rest of the team were gathered around a large table, laughter and banter filling the air.
"hey, cherry, can you grab me another beer?" bradley asked with a playful grin, his eyes twinkling.
"only if you say please," you teased back, giving him a mock-serious look.
"please," he replied, drawing out the word and giving you an exaggerated puppy-dog look that made you laugh.
as you headed to the bar, nat nudged you with her elbow. "you know, Cherry, you’re not fooling anyone, especially me" she smirked.
you raised an eyebrow, pretending not to understand. "what do you mean?"
phoenix gave you a knowing smile. "come on, it's so obvious you have a crush on Rooster. the way you two flirt, it's like watching a rom-com. and as your best friend, you know I can read you like an open book" she said, leaning across the bar to grab your three beers.
your cheeks flushed a little, but you couldn’t help but smile. "Is it that obvious?"
"To everyone but you two, apparently," phoenix said, chuckling. "just go for it. You two are great together."
meanwhile, back at the table, the boys were giving rooster a similar hard time.
"rooster, man, you are so into cherry," jake "said, shaking his head. "the way you look at her, it's like you're in the notebook or something."
"yeah, dude," bob added. "It's written all over your face. you look like a little kitten with a ball of wool" he said and analogy made the other pilots roar with laughter.
rooster tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. "what can I say? she's special."
as you returned to the table with the beers, you noticed the boys smirking at rooster, who was giving them a playful glare. you handed bradley his beer, your fingers brushing briefly, sending a small thrill through you.
"thanks, cherry," he said, his voice softening a bit, reaching up to pinch your cheek playfully.
"anytime," you replied, your heart fluttering.
phoenix gave you a knowing look, and you felt a rush of warmth. surrounded by friends and filled with a sense of joy and possibility, you knew this was just the beginning of something truly special between you and bradley.
and that feeling made you feel like a high schooler, feeling oh so high school.
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training and day to day encounters with bradley became the norm, and he found himself actively seeking you out more and more.
"hey cherry" his voice rang sweetly in your ears as he plonked himself down next to you. "hey rooster" you greeted back, settling comfortably into the chair, waiting for maverick to come and start the training session.
"looks like we're paired up for today's exercise" he said, trying to dim the bright grin that graced his face, drinking in the amused look in yours.
"sure looks like it" you grinned back, laughing when he pumped his fists in the air. "excited much?" you joked, leaning slightly into his shoulder. "oh, very. it's not often i get to fly with a wingwoman as beautiful as you, pretty girl" he cooed, fingers dancing across the loose strand of hair that had fallen out of your bun and tucking it back in.
you felt your breath hitch and your heart speed up like a train, feeling the warmth radiating from his body as he leaned in slightly closer, eyes trained on yours, gleaming in the sunshine. you leaned in as well, torso moving forward as your eyes fluttered ever so slightly. bradley felt his heart hammering, palms sweating slightly as he repeated a mantra of "holy shit this is actually happening" repeatedly in his head.
just as your noses brushed, a sharp voice cut the tension in the room, and you jumped back as if you had been scalded. you felt your body heat up as the grinning faces of hangman and coyote and maverick came into view, making you shoot away from bradley to keep a respectable distance between you two.
"well, well, what do we have here?" hangman’s teasing drawl filled the space, a smirk playing on his lips. phoenix elbowed him in the ribs, rolling her eyes at his lack of tact. "damnit bagman, couldn't you have waited for a second?" nat's voice reached your ears and you tried your hardest not to simply evaporate on the spot.
maverick raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "did we interrupt something?"
coyote chuckled, shaking his head. "looks like we did."
bradley's hand remains on your shoulder, a reassuring touch. you couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and amusement at the situation.
"har har guys, why don't you move it along now cmon" rooster said, dramatically gesturing to the door.
a chorus of laughs and giggles embraced you, with natasha stopping to stoop by your ear and say "never seen you look so captivated cherry" and giving you a playful wink which you returned.
"well...where were we?" bradley said, after ensuring the squad had truly left. "i believe you were about to kiss me?" you said in a hushed whisper, reaching for the zipper of his flight suit, standing up to pull him flush against you.
you let your body sink against the tiny podium mav used to give his motivational speeches, letting bradley's weight sag into you as he leaned closer, and closer and closer...
right until his breath was warm on your face, searching your eyes for the same desperate adoration he felt and he saw it there in full reciprocity.
"god, will you kiss me already?" you whined, tugging him forward by the collar.
bradley turned to you, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. he took a step closer, his gaze locking onto yours. "I've been wanting to tell you something," he said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it.
your heart raced as you nodded, body high on the palpable tension, waiting for him to continue. "ive felt this way for a while now," he confessed, taking your hand in his. "and I can't keep pretending it's not there." he continued, breath in ragged gasps as he inched so much more impossibly closer to you.
before you could respond, he gently cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing over the swell of your cheek. the world seemed to slow down as he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours. you closed the distance, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss, charged with sweet emotion.
the first touch sent a shiver down your spine. it was sweet and slow, as delicate as spun sugar, both of you savoring the moment you had been waiting for. bradley's other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, the other still grasping your cheek.
his lips were warm and inviting, and you lost yourself in the sensation, your arms winding around his neck. his mustache, his oh so perfect mustache brushed against your top lip, in a messy kiss that felt so good you couldn't breathe. his hand crawled up your back to rest in your hair, cradling your head in his hand while yours continued to grip his collar and his chest tightly, tongues now clashing as the kiss grew more heated.
just as bradley let his hand down to squeeze the flesh of your ass, the sound of footsteps and a horrified "oh!" had bradley breaking apart from you, eyes never leaving your heaving form as he glanced over his shoulder to see an extremely flustered bob.
"oh shit rooster, I'm sorry i-" he began, stammering and stuttering as his glasses began to slip down his nose from the nervous perspiration gathering on his nose.
"bob, just leave" he murmured, going back to your lips as he let his mustache brush your lip in a way that had you giggling.
"right! right! I'll leave god rooster I'm sorry-" he continued rooted to the spot, eyes widening at the way bradley's lips trailed to your neck.
"bob?" you called sweetly, ignoring the way rooster smirked against your neck. "yes cherry?" he said, still stuttering.
"as much as I like you, please fuck off and let me makeout with rooster in peace" you said firmly, and he was scurrying out like a mouse.
bradley laughed against the skin of your neck, pressing one last smacking kiss to the juncture between your shoulder and neck, before leaning up to peck your nose.
"darling, let me take you to dinner" he begged, grasping your hand in his own palm.
"when?" you asked, still heaving to take deep breaths of air. "now. today. an hour, god, I'll just go shower and change and I'll come and pick you up and we can go now, today, now" he said, punctuating each word with a soft kiss to your lips.
"okay" you breathed, slowly backing away to just admire the man before you. "pick me up at 7 then" you said, pushing him away with a smirk, before walking towards the door, hips swaying purposefully. "and maybe tonight, you'll get to kiss more of me" you winked, and made your way out.
rooster sunk back into a chair with a groan.
god, you made him feel like a lovestruck teenager, giving him butterflies
it all felt oh so high school to him.
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bradley bradshaw had planned the perfect first date, and as the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over Fightertown, you found yourself eagerly anticipating the evening ahead. he had picked you up right on time, his charming smile and easy confidence immediately putting you at ease.
he drove you to a secluded stretch of beach, the sound of the waves creating a serene backdrop as he unloaded a large picnic basket from the trunk. "i thought we'd do something a little different," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "a beach picnic seemed like the perfect idea. you mentioned you've never had one before" he said, a note of shyness in his gaze.
"i love it," you replied, genuinely touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture.
he spread out a blanket on the soft sand, arranging the picnic essentials with meticulous care. as you sat down, you couldn't help but admire the beautiful scenery—the ocean stretching out endlessly, the sky painted with hues of orange and pink.
bradley handed you a glass of sparkling champagne and raised his own in a toast. "to new beginnings," he said, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.
"to new beginnings," you echoed, clinking your glass against his.
the evening unfolded with an easy, natural flow. bradley had packed an impressive spread: fresh fruit, gourmet sandwiches, cheese, and even a couple of your favorite snacks, and to your mirth, a whole container of cherry candy. you both talked and laughed, sharing stories and learning more about each other.
at one point, he playfully fed you a strawberry, and you couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "you're really going all out, huh?" you teased.
"only the best for you," he replied with a wink, his tone light but his expression serious.
as the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky turned a deep, velvety blue, and bradley lit a few candles, their gentle flicker adding to the romantic ambiance. you found yourself inching closer to him, the warmth of his presence and the sound of his voice creating a bubble of intimacy that felt both exhilarating and comforting.
he glanced at you, his eyes soft and filled with an emotion that made your breath catch. "you know, I've wanted to do this for a long time," he admitted, his voice low and earnest.
"really?" you asked, feeling a flutter of excitement.
"yeah," he said, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "there's something about you, cherry. from the moment we met, I knew you were special."
your heart swelled with happiness as you looked into his eyes. "i feel the same way, bradley."
he smiled, a slow, genuine smile that lit up his face. "im glad," he said softly.
as the night continued, you sat together, sharing quiet moments and watching the stars appear one by one in the sky. It was the perfect first date, a beautiful beginning to what you both hoped would be a wonderful journey together.
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bradley couldn't remember the last time anyone had left him so simply awe struck and feeling like a teenager in love the way that you had. he knew the moment he set eyes on you in the hard deck that you had stolen his heart in every sense of the phrase.
so flash forward to three months after your first date and there you were, pressed up against his body, leaning into his warmth with one of your ankles looped around his own, both your feet propped up on bradley's coffee table. his house had practically become yours, you spent more time there than at your own pathetic little rented apartment.
bradley inhaled the scent of your perfume, bergamot and oak, vanilla and of course cherry. he didn't know how much he loved the scent of cherry till you came into his life like a cherry scented whirlwind.
it was a Saturday night and that meant neither of you had to go into work the next day. he had asked you to come over to his place after a few drinks at the hard deck. he had cracked open a nice bottle of red wine and had ordered in some of the burritos you loved so much, topped of with that spicy salsa you loved.
a bowl of nachos sat between the two of you, and the burritos waited on the table for you two to stop gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.
the classic 'american pie' was playing softly in the background, but neither of you could really pay attention. your fingers traced over his muscled thighs, absent mindedly tracing your initials on the exposed skin, his denim shorts giving you more than enough room to gently trace the skin.
his arm was around your shoulders, gently tracing mindless circles on the exposed skin of your shoulder, and occasionally dropping kisses to the skin as well, letting his tongue dart out to earn a giggle from your pretty lips.
"ya having fun pretty girl?" he asked, brushing a loose strand of his hair back. "mmhmm" you nodded burrowing into his chest in a way that had his heart singing.
"i love how stupidly interesting this movie is" he confessed, and you laughed, affectionately kissing his nose. "i do too, it's the perfect movie to unwind to" you agreed, settling into his chest again as you took a sip of the cabernet he had poured you.
he adored these little moments with you. how he would love to have them with you every damn day. he wanted you to just be with him for ever and ever.
of course, the both of you had forgotten about the iconic scene in which vicky finally...achieved new highs. bradley's eyes went wide as he choked on his wine, watching as the explicit scene played out on tv, feeling your body tense beside him and your breathing quicken as she reached her peak on screen.
he felt red hot arousal course through his body, and the fact that your perfectly plush body was resting against him in a way that was just right was not helping him. his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight around his groin.
he heard you gulp beside him, eyes blown a little wide as your eyes shifted to his face, flushing a little when you saw he was already looking at you.
"sweetheart i hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable?" he asked, stroking your cheek in concern. he missed the way your thighs pressed together, but he did hear the whimper that left your lips.
"oh darling..." he cooed, thumb stroking your cheekbone. "you want me to do that to you pretty girl? want me to eat your pretty pussy?" he asked, smirking when you whimpered again softly, turning so you were both face to face.
"answer me darling " he said, moving the glasses away to pull you flush into his lap. you tried to stifle your sigh of pleasure when his large hands grabbed your hips, settling you snug against him.
"please?" you asked, hands trailing down his muscled chest. "please what, pretty girl?" he asked, hands reaching to the back of your shirt. "please can you eat me out, lieutenant bradshaw?" you cooed, feeling confident as you rolled your hips on his.
"fuck baby girl" he grunted, making quick work of undoing your bra and flinging it off off you, hands going slowly up and down your sides. "I'd love that" he groaned, slowly setting you down flat on the couch and resting one knee between your legs. he dragged your top off, and you hissed when the cold air graced your nipples, hardening them to peaks.
his eager tongue descended upon them, flat of it pressing against the sensitive buds and sucking them between his lips to flick at them in a way that had you gasping and gripping his luscious hair in your hands, chest arching high.
he bucked up into you then, hands holding your hips still as he stiffens against you. "you’re fucking sexy, ya know that?" he said "so. fucking. sexy." he punctuated each word with a flick of his tongue, teeth grazing the nipple and sucking it, letting his saliva coat it before pulling it, making you hiss in pleasure.
although it took him seconds, it felt like an eternity, as bradley travelled down the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach where he stopped, and licked slow circles around your belly button until you shuddered almost continually. his tongue dipped into your belly button and your foot jerks. his mouth travelled lower.
he took a minute to settle down, settling down to his knees in front of the couch, to become eye-level with your clothed cunt, while maintaining a cozy sort of closeness. once again, he gently stroked the waistband of your panties, and, with expert hands, eyed the pale blush pink colour of your underwear.
"i don't know if i tell you often", he moaned into your thigh with squinted eyes. "but you’re the prettiest fucking person ive ever seen" he said, biting the flesh of your hip. "prettiest fucking thing ive ever seen" he repeated, and your heart began to thud at an irregular pace against your chest as you watched the special show.
"tell me you want me baby" he asked, stopping his movements and panting on his knees. he looked like such a fucking angelic mess in that moment, voice raspy, chest heaving and hands gripping the flesh of your hips.
"i need to hear you tell me you want me and need me" he begged, slowly drawing your knees apart.
"please roos, i need you so bad! i want you!" you acquiesced, desperately reaching for his hand, which he immediately linked with your own.
"now, i have only one rule" he murmured pressing another kiss into your skin, this time even lower. he tilted your hips up just a bit higher, so they’re level with his nose; eyes just barely peeking over your mound. he inhaled sharply.
"you have to be as loud as you can or i stop. just please, fuck, please don’t hold back on me" he whispered, stroking your knuckles on the hand in which your fingers were entwined, his cheeks pink in the sparkling lights.
and with your nod, he’s dove in. you felt his tongue slip out, softly licking at your already swollen clit, and you realized this feeling was unlike anything. it was heaven and it's hell, it was sanity and insanity, and you loved it. your chest dipped hard with every aggressive rise, and the more it obscured your view of rooster, the more you adjusted yourself so that way it doesn’t. you wanted to see him.
his mouth wrapped around your clit and he gently sucked at it, his chin grazing your hole as his tongue explored the unfamiliar territory. he moaned out loud in surprise of how fucking sweet and tart you tasted.
"fuck sweet girl, you taste like cherry candy" he grunted, his own hips grinding against the coarse material of the couch.
he continued with his ministrations, pulling soft moans out of you. it was a melody, a harmony. a symphony of low groans and raw moans and desperate whines leaving your lips. each and every noise; every perfectly composed addition giving way to how your pleasure builds. "fu—oh, my god, roos!" you managed to gasp out, remembering his rule, head pressing against fluffy yellow cushion he had given you.
he’d barely touched you. hadn’t even quite moved on from your clit, and yet? you were a fucking mess. your breathing, uneven, your heart erratic. it was a dizzying experience everytime he sucked on your clit.
he alternated, tightening the control on his lips or flattening his tongue, lifting your legs to rest them on his shoulders.
your legs felt heavy against his shoulders, knees buckling from the pleasure. the noises that came from him are pornographic, to say the least. obscene and dirty, muffled by your puffy lips. it was wet, and it sounded like heaven.
"you’re doing great, pretty girl. so fucking good" he growled into your pussy, lapping at your juices.
then suddenly he was mouthing at your cunt, tongue dipping into your aching hole with fervour, trying to learn what made you feel good, what made you jerk, what made you tick. about your reactions. about your ethereal sounds. as much as his brain could take. he made you absolutely melt into putty with his experienced touch.
an unexpected high-pitched moan escaped your swollen mouth, and your breath caught in your throat. "holy shit! rooster! bradley! ah—fuck, just, you’re…right there" your hands clutched the leather between your fingers, and you were pretty sure you had ripped a hole in the velveteen couch.
a familiar warmth was beginning to pool in your tummy, fingers running through his hair in response, scratching at his scalp and pulling his hair roughly.
the veins in his arms began to strain and protrude and you almost came right there on the spot. you yanked on his hair again, and with a loud groan he jerked up into you. a dangerous glint gleaming in his eyes as he shot up to meet yours and he lifted himself off of you. "you’re playing a dangerous game, darling" he whispered, fingers trailing down your thighs.
his tongue swirled along your ribs, the place where you’re most ticklish, and it revealed his new favourite sound in the world - your laugh. over the curve of your breast, covered with hickeys and bites, and then finally right above your heart. where he lived, where he loved and could be loved. his home.
he snuck back down, fingers slipping into you, pressing against your g spot before his tongue began to suck harshly on your clit.
the familiar band of pleasure began to build in your belly and you whined in desperate pleasure. his tongue began to suck on the little pearl harder, and soon you were thrashing above him as the band snapped and you came all over his pretty face.
"thats it darling, nice and slow, come for me" he murmured, licking you through your orgasm. "mm-ah! roos!" you groaned as the sensitivity grew between your legs.
bradley stood up panting, moustache gleaming with your sparkling juices, and his tongue picked out to lick it away, the sight so obscenely perfect.
"you're my new favourite thing to eat in the world, sweet girl" he cooed, pressing his lips to yours in a delicate kiss.
gasping and panting, you kissed his back, gently stroking his hair. "thank you, that was amazing" you breathed, giggling when he sunk into you and the both of you descended into the plush couch.
"don't thank me baby girl, it's a pleasure to give my girl the best head of her life" he said, cracking a grin when you hid your face in his chest.
"god I adore you. i love you" he said, breathing the scent of your perfume again. "I love you too baby" you whispered, kissing his nose.
"c'mon, let's get up and cuddle now" he said, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder. you squealed in laughter as he tickled your side, hanging over his shoulder, playfully swatting his butt as he made his way up the stairs.
this was the kind of romance you'd only read bout in high school.
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the hard deck was alive with its usual blend of laughter and lively conversation as you and the squad gathered for another fun night out. the air was filled with the familiar buzz of camaraderie, and everyone was in high spirits. but tonight, there was a special gleam in bradley's eyes that you couldn't quite place.
as the evening progressed, he excused himself and made his way to the old upright piano in the corner of the bar. you watched curiously as he sat down, his fingers lightly grazing the keys, testing the feel of the instrument. the room began to quiet down as people noticed him at the piano, a sense of anticipation building.
he looked up and caught your eye, his expression softening. "this one's for you, cherry," he said, his voice carrying across the room. a few murmurs of surprise and interest rippled through the crowd as he began to play a slow, romantic tune.
the familiar notes of heaven by Bryan Adams began to play.
as the melody filled the bar, you felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks. bradley's playing was beautiful, each note filled with emotion. his eyes never left yours, and it felt like the rest of the room faded away, leaving just the two of you connected by the music.
when he began to sing, his voice was smooth and heartfelt, the lyrics speaking of love and longing. it was clear to everyone that this was a song from the depths of his heart, and the dedication to you made it all the more special.
"and baby, you're all that I want,
when you're lying here in my arms,
im finding it hard to believe,
we're in heaven,
and love is all that i need,
and I found it there in your heart" he crooned softly to you and you felt an overwhelming love settle in your heart for the man at the piano.
the squad couldn't resist teasing. jake leaned over to phoenix and bob, a playful grin on his face. "hearts are breaking in the world tonight," he quipped, eliciting a round of chuckles from the group.
"yeah, looks like rooster's got it bad," phoenix added, giving you a wink.
bob nodded in agreement, smiling warmly. "It's like a scene out of a high school movie."
despite the teasing, there was an underlying sense of genuine happiness from everyone, seeing how much bradley cared for you.
as the song drew to a close, bradley's final notes lingered in the air, and the room erupted into applause. he stood up and walked back to you, his gaze never wavering.
you met him halfway, feeling a rush of emotions. "that was beautiful, baby" you said, your voice soft with gratitude and affection.
he smiled, his eyes shining with sincerity. "I'm glad you liked it, cherry. It was all for you."
as the squad continued to tease and make light-hearted comments, you and bradley shared a look that said it all. in that moment, surrounded by friends and wrapped in the warmth of his music, you both felt like high schoolers in love, caught up in the sweet, innocent magic of the night.
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rooster had invited the entire squad over to his place for beers n barbecue, but it was just an excuse to play grand theft auto with the boys. nat and you had just rolled your eyes and decided to play monopoly.
rooster kept glancing over his shoulder towards the two of you, smiling when he saw you laugh, throwing your head back and exposing the skin of your neck to him. he inhaled deeply when you bit your lip, teeth sinking into the flesh in concentration.
he groaned as hangman shoved him in the shoulder to make him lose in the game, and he stood up to head to the kitchen.
"baby you want a beer? nat, what about you?" he asked, walking over to you to drop a kiss to your shoulder.
"please" nat groaned, looking up from the board. "cherry's been kicking my ass at this stupid game for an hour" she said, making you laugh as you picked up the bowl of nachos you had been sharing to refill it.
"I'll be right back babe" you said, taking your empty beer bottles and following rooster to the kitchen.
"you having fun?" he asked, dragging you to him by your belt loops and dropping a kiss to your forehead. "i am! i missed spending time with nix" you said, kissing his cheeks and walking over to check the apple pie you had put in the oven.
rooster bit back a groan as you bent at the waist to check it, and before you knew it he was pulling you in, pressing your front against the counter. his fingers slid to the front of your jeans, slowly zipping them down.
"bradley! what in the world are you doing!" you hissed, hands settling on top of his own. "our friends are literally right there playing GTA!" you exclaimed, gasping when his finger slipped into the band of your cotton panties.
he dipped his finger to your clit, smirking when he felt the wetness on your clit. his fingers began to rub deft circles and your knees buckled, a soft whimper leaving your lips when his lips dropped to your ear to nibble on the shell.
"my my, you're a dirty little girl aren't you? getting fingered in the kitchen while our friends are in the next room?" he purred and your head dropped into his shoulder.
"fuck baby.." you moaned, and he sucked a hickey into your neck.
"god i love seeing you like this" he groaned, fingers speeding up against your clit, thumb settling on it, slipping one finger in at a time, pressing against your spongy walls, taking in the symphony of your moans.
"fuck I'm so close" you whined, pressing harder against his fingers. "cum for me darling, cum all over my fingers" he said and you came undone with a shudering gasp, chest heaving.
"hey cherry I'd like my beer cold please!" pheonix's voice cut the air and you almost jumped out of your skin.
rooster laughed as you heated up against him, pulling the zipper of your jeans back up before leaning back against the counter to lick his fingers, that had you playfully glaring at him.
"hey, bradshaw! you just died in the game man!" hangman's smug voice cut in, and the both of you laughed and pulled away.
"I'll see you again later honey" you said, kissing his cheeks. "love you" he said, nuzzling into your cheek.
"Jesus, get a room!" payback exclaimed as he stepped into the kitchen, looking for more popcorn.
"let them be! they're so cute together!" phoenix said, walking in, with her arms crossed. "cherry, babe. it's been fifteen minutes. are you brewing the beer from scratch?" she joked, walking over to the fridge to pick up the beer herself.
"sorry, she got distracted" rooster grinned and you nudged him in the side. natasha grimaced and payback pretended to gag.
"you're like two horny teenagers" fanboy commented as he walked in too.
"what can I say?" rooster shrugged. "she makes me feel oh so high school" he smiled.
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you sighed dreamily, watching bradley's pretty shirt flutter in the sea breeze. he had taken you out to a cute restaurant on the beach, which had outdoor seating and was decorated in quiet finesse.
the ocean's edge had been a charming and elegant beachside restaurant known for its stunning panoramic views of the sea. as the sun had set, casting a golden glow over the water.
the sound of waves gently lapping against the shore had provided a soothing backdrop to the evening, along with the rhythmic hum of the Bryan Adams song playing in the restaurant.
soft candlelight had flickered on your table, illuminating the beautifully set plates and the fresh, exquisite dishes prepared with locally sourced ingredients. the ambiance had been both romantic and serene, perfect for an intimate dinner with rooster, where every detail had been crafted to enhance the dining experience by the sea.
the candlelight danced in his eyes, which were filled with warmth and a hint of mischief. you both leaned in close, sharing quiet laughter and soft, playful touches. your conversation flowed effortlessly, akin to two teenagers in love, filled with lighthearted teasing and genuine curiosity about each other's lives.
rooster's hand occasionally brushed against yours, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine. you found yourselves lost in his eyes, which reflected your own dreams for the future. there was an innocence and purity to your interaction, each smile and glance brimming with affection. the way he looked at you, with unguarded admiration, made you feel like the most important person in the world.
bradley leaned in a little closer, his expression turning slightly more serious but still filled with warmth. "you know," he said his voice soft and earnest, "i've been thinking a lot lately."
"oh? about what?" you asked, a hint of curiosity and amusement in your voice.
"about us," he said, his eyes locking onto yours. "about how much I love spending time with you, how much you mean to me."
your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a warm flush spread through you. "i feel the same way, bradley."
he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I've been thinking... I don't want us to just have these moments in between missions and busy schedules. I want more of this. More of you."
you felt a flutter of excitement and anticipation. "what are you trying to say?" you asked, excitement and anticipation bubbling in your chest.
he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "i want you to move in with me," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to wake up next to you every day, to come home to you. I want us to build a life together, not just in moments but every single day."
your eyes welled up with tears of happiness. "bradley, are you serious?"
he nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "I've never been more serious about anything in my life. I love you, and I want us to be together, always."
tears of joy streamed began to well up in your eyes as you squeezed his hand. "I love you too, bradley. yes, I would love to move in with you." you exclaimed and he laughed, tilting your chin to capture your lips in a tender kiss.
"one day," he whispered, kissing you softly, "I'm gonna put a ring on your finger" he promised, eyes boring deep into your own.
you felt your heart hammering again, melting into a puddle of warm, happy goo.
"I'd want nothing more" you whispered back.
you could so get used to this. because being with bradley just felt oh so high school.
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a/n : here we go! the first of the tortured poets department project! i hope you enjoy reading it as much I loved writing it!! as always, comments, likes, reblogs, feedback etc is always appreciated!! 🤍 also this is my first top gun work so please!! be kind!!
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gurugirl · 8 months
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Can We Start Over? | Ch. 1 The Winter Ball
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Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers
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A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).
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Chapter 1. Summary: You meet Harry at your boss's retirement party and your night ends with a bang.
Word Count: 10k
Warning: 18+ only, smut, alcohol consumption, angst
Can We Start Over? masterlist
The winter ball was something Mr. Spector threw every year for his clients, colleagues, and other wealthy people he wanted to be seen with. This one was like the past three you’d attended, but unlike the others, this would be the last. Your boss, Mr. Spector was retiring, and he was moving to Italy. You were happy for him. Truly. He’d been good to you the past three and half years you spent working for him. You took on the duty of a personal assistant and friend. The friend part came naturally, of course. It wasn’t part of your job description but you honestly really liked Mr. Spector. He wasn’t nice to most people. But to you, he was kind of like the dad you never had. He was hard-nosed but he was fair and somehow you two just clicked.
You worked for one of the most elite household talent staffing companies out there. Your clients usually consisted of, not just wealthy people, but filthy rich and usually the kind that wanted to fly under the radar and needed the utmost discretion. In Mr. Spector’s case, he didn’t want his spiteful children to know how much he was really worth. Sure they were in the will, and they’d certainly do well upon his passing (that was all they seemed to care about), but they’d never see the real number of his assets until it was too late and everything was already doled out according to Mr. Spector’s wishes.
And so you helped him in any way you could to achieve this façade. You found a private accountant for him to move money about and helped him keep the appearance of not having the kind of money he actually did. You suggested, for example, that he not buy the Rolls Royce but that the Mercedes should be sufficient, and that rather than wearing a 31-million-dollar Patek Philippe, diamond-encrusted watch, he go with the more basic, 25-thousand-dollar stainless steel sports model Rolex instead. So he still maintained an air of wealth and prestige because there was no question to anyone that he was super rich. But you just helped him bring it down a notch.
And his winter ball was more like his retirement party this time around. He’d really gone all out. Despite your hesitation with some of his selections, you figured you’d give him this one. And you could admit that helping to plan his parties was one of your favorite tasks. You’d fly to venues all over the world seeking the best (once they’d been narrowed down of course) for him. Find the best chefs and mixologists, the perfect planners and decorators. You got to help select finishings, menus, and staff, right down to the types of linen and even the theme of the events.
And the theme of the night was A Secret Garden in the City. For this, you found a penthouse in Manhattan with full 360-degree views. The space was empty when you first arrived to look at it. You were told it wasn’t a place normally rented for parties but that the owner had intended to make it a fancy restaurant at some point. But it had been sitting for years, empty. And you found the place because Mr. Spector knew everyone. You had a number for a real estate agent to the wealthy in New York City and he gave you a bit of insider information. The penthouse space, he’d told you, could be negotiated by the owner to rent given the right price.
You had landscapers come in and make a garden of the space. Flowers, grass, trees, bushes, vines, even a lily pad pond… when everything was put together, it really did look like you were in a secret garden in the middle of Manhattan. Delicate string lights lit the space, the ceiling was painted a dark sky color so it felt as if you were outside. The table settings were like something out of a Hobbit’s Tale with knotty oak chairs with green silk cushions. The linens were of green satin silk with gold embroidery design and the napkins were gold satin. Centerpieces were potted leafy plants of all types, and moss was placed around the pots to give them that fairyland look. Tiny candles illuminated each table all around. Gold cutlery. Big golden lighted globes hung from the ceiling in various sizes between plants that cascaded down. It really was quite the spectacle.
You were proud of how it all turned out. And the 200 guests that Mr. Spector invited all appeared to be in awe of the space.
The stringed music playing for most of the event in the background was live. The musicians stood to the side of the room on a newly installed platform, trees lined the back of the stage. And now that the night was finally coming to an end, well, the main event had ended, it was time to drink and dance and let loose, the band was switched out for something rockier and more upbeat.
Mr. Spector kissed your cheek and gripped your arm, “My dear, you never cease to astonish me with your hard work. Thank you for this. I’ll see you in the morning okay?”
You tried to get him to stay and enjoy the after-party. And like every year before, he declined. He liked his private time. Liked reading and writing and the quiet. He preferred his guests to enjoy what he’d been able to give them. It was, after all, for them, he always said.
“Even though it’s your last event like this? You won’t get this again, sir. Are you sure?” You smiled at him and he nodded. You knew he’d decline to stay.
So, you ordered your second cocktail of the night once Mr. Spector left. Some type of green concoction with a blackberry-sized red flower floating atop. You didn’t know what was in it. All you knew was that it tasted delicious and it was going to get you into some trouble. But maybe that’s what you were looking for that evening. After all, this was your going away party as well. You’d be put back into the system as active again once you were officially out of Mr. Spector’s employ. It would be time to find your next role.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Many dancing, some sitting and chatting, others making their rounds to network and schmooze. You stayed at the edge of the dance area and let your body move to the rhythm. You kept your eyes on everyone. Even though you were trying to just enjoy yourself you still felt somewhat responsible for all the attendees. It was ingrained in you.
You definitely fit in with everyone, though. Your outfit was couture, high fashion like the rest of the guests. Mr. Spector had paid for everything for you, as always. You picked out a beautiful cowl neck, deep navy-blue velvet dress with a slit that went up to your mid-thigh. The back draped down tastefully but the drape at the front was dangerously low. Just like you wanted. You had red pumps with gold and ruby jewelry. It was always difficult finding things in your size that weren’t from a big box store but the hunt for the perfect dress and accessories was always worth it. And the dress? You felt absolutely sexy. From head to toe.
The song was swingy and fun. More people covered the dance floor and somehow you’d gotten pushed further in. You still had your drink in hand but now it was nearly empty so you were less worried about spilling any of the liquid on yourself.
A woman you recognized as a small IT business owner greeted you and you both chatted as you danced together. When the song changed Elsie pointed at your drink, “You’re low. So am I,” she lifted her glass to show you, “Should we grab more?”
The answer that night was yes. Yes to anything.
The bar that lined the wall opposite the band had people hovering, waiting for their drinks. You let Elsie take the lead in getting the attention of the bartender. She was a tall, slender blond with smooth shiny hair so you figured she’d do better at getting your drinks faster. And you were used to that. Being the fat one, you tended to get overlooked and ignored. When you were younger it hurt a lot more, but these days you learned to use it to your advantage.
It wasn’t that you thought you were ugly or unworthy. You just understood how most people perceived you, even if they were wrong. You were confident when it mattered and took good care of yourself. And you rarely ever mistook a man’s kindness for him flirting with you, which was nice in a way. You couldn’t ever wrap your mind around assuming every guy who was kind to you was flirting. A lot of your friends had that mentality. Any time a man would chat them up they’d automatically jump to thinking they were being sized up somehow. You couldn’t imagine feeling so confident that you thought a man having a conversation with you meant anything more.
So that’s why when the tall, gorgeous man with dark, soft curls, sharp green eyes, and an even sharper jawline leaned in and asked, “Are you having a good time?” You didn’t assume he was flirting with you.
“I definitely am. How about you?” You turned to look up at him. Deep pink lips, broad shoulders, a very expensive suit and shoes, cocky grin.
“Sure. But I had to fly out here to attend last minute. My assistant forgot to add the event to my calendar so I had to settle for this suit and here I am. I’ll deal with her later. Luckily Alfred always throws the biggest and best parties so it’s been worth it.”
You noted the tiny dig to his assistant in the back of your mind and nodded, “Yeah, Mr. Spector loves to go big. It’s turned out great I think.” You had planned on mentioning you were the man of the night’s assistant until Mr. Cocky complained about his own. So you’d keep that little detail to yourself.
He was drinking whisky, neat. And when Elsie finally returned to your spot at the edge of the bar she handed you your tasty green drink and you introduced her.
“Elsie, this is… uh… What was your name?”
“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he held his hand out, gaudy rings on most of his fingers toward the pretty blond and she nodded, “Elsie Powers. Nice to meet you.”
The pair got to talking the moment Elsie mentioned her company and so you decided to dip out. You didn’t need to stand around and watch them flirt, which is what you assumed was going on. They were both gorgeous so that seemed natural to you.
But before you could take even a step outside of the little bubble the three of you were in you felt Harry’s hand at your low back as he leaned down to speak into your ear, “Don’t go too far. I was hoping to ask you something.”
You looked down at his arm and back into his eyes, “Okay… I’ll be around. You can come find me.”
When his fingers slid off your back as you stepped away you still felt the heat of his skin where he’d touched you. You liked his touch, but you assumed it happened because you took up so much space. It was more likely, in your mind, that he hadn’t meant to touch you there at all.
After another cocktail and a bit more dancing by yourself, Harry did find you. You didn’t realize it was him at first. You felt a warm body dancing behind you, not touching, just near enough that the heat emanated from him to your back. But then you heard his voice, “Found you. Thought you left.”
You turned to look at him over your shoulder and spoke, “Was planning on staying til the end. Felt like I deserved to enjoy tonight.”
“And why’s that?” Harry’s hand brushed along your bare arm softly before he removed it. You felt the trail of where he’d touched your arm and it made you wonder if he’d done it on purpose.
“No reason. I just deserve it,” you kept swaying your hips and you felt Harry moving with you, standing over you. You could smell his cologne.
“You don’t mind me dancing with you, do you?” His voice was close to your neck as he spoke.
Shaking your head you turned your body to face him, swinging your hips softly, “Not at all.”
He grinned down at you and the dimple that appeared on his cheek had you taken aback. He was truly stunning.
“Good. Wanted to chat some with you. Find out more about you…” he took your hand in his and pulled you closer, shifting the mood a little as you both danced. You silently inhaled in surprise at his gesture.
“And what did you want to know, Mr. Styles?” You raised your brows and smirked at him. You weren’t sure at that point what he was doing. But he was certainly leading you to believe this was more than just a friendly chat.
“First, what’s your name?”
You laughed, “I’m Y/n. I guess I forgot to introduce myself.”
“Are you here alone, Y/n?” His free hand found a spot on your side over your hip.
“I am. What about you?” You weren’t used to receiving this kind of attention from anyone. Much less a wealthy handsome man.
“I’m here alone too,” he kept a cocky grin plastered to his face as he drew nearer and spoke lowly so only you could hear, “But was hoping I wouldn’t be leaving alone.”
It was at that moment you were truly surprised. Was he…? Couldn’t be. You’d surely misread this situation just in the way all your pretty girlfriends misread it every time a guy showed any friendliness. Maybe it was the three cocktails you’d drank and that had you wondering what was in them.
Harry's hand released yours and he brought his ringed fingers up to your shoulder where he brushed the side of your neck, drawing you in closer with his other hand at your hip, “What about you?”
You blinked your eyes and looked up at him in confusion, “What about me? What do you mean?”
Harry’s grin deepened as he looked down at your mouth and took a clear glance at your cleavage before responding, “Did you hope to leave with someone tonight?”
You scoffed and looked around the dance floor before looking back at him, still not quite believing the direction this conversation was headed, “I hadn’t imagined I would leave with anyone. Figured I’d just go back to my hotel room alone after.”
The ridiculously attractive man licked his lips and kept his gaze on yours, “Really? You don’t want someone to take you back to their room and help you out of this pretty dress tonight?”
You began to cough. You’d choked on your own saliva as you inhaled a sharp breath at the wrong moment. His words caught you off guard.
But now you were hacking and bent at the waist, red in the face like an idiot.
Harry patted your back and you heard him speak into your ear, “You okay, darling? Need some water?”
When you’d recovered you and Harry were standing at the edge of the dancefloor away from the crowd and he had a comforting hand on your back.
You laughed and shook your head, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened…” you wiped your face, which was moist from the tears you’d forced out from all the coughing.
Harry took your hand and led you to a free seat, pulling a chair out for you and then sitting next to you, his hand still on your back, “Do you feel better now?”
You nodded and smiled at him. You hadn’t forgotten what he said. But now you were sure whatever he was getting at was all but out the window after your little display.
“Come back with me to my room, Y/n.”
Well, that just blasted your little theory.
You sat up straight and your jaw dropped open wide, “Why?”
Harry laughed, “Because I don’t want to go back alone. Spend the night with me tonight.”
Were you in a dream? Had you drunk too much and were blacked out and hallucinating?
“I don’t… I’m not sure what you…” you were unable to put your thoughts together coherently. You hadn’t expected it. You assumed you weren’t his type. Too chunky for a man like him. Imagined he preferred a more modelesque figure on women he found attractive given his appearance.
“Look. I’ll just be very straightforward with you. I think you’re gorgeous and I’d like to have you in my bed tonight. Naked. How does that sound to you?”
You whispered the word naked back to him as if it were a word you’d never heard before. You took a deep breath and looked around the room.
“What are you drinking? I’ll go get us another so we can chat a bit before you make any decisions.”
Now this question was one you could actually answer, “The cocktail is one from the menu. Called the Grove.”
Harry got up and left you at the table by yourself. You sat back in the seat and sighed. What were you going to do? He was mouth-watering, which is why you choked on your spit in the first place. Your mouth was literally watering at his proximity on the dance floor. And now he was asking you to go back to his room to hook up. He couldn’t have made it clearer. There was no room for you to misinterpret what he meant.
And why should you say no? Why should you go back to your own room and sleep in that big bed all by yourself? Well, mostly because you were worried about getting attached. Sure you didn’t even know the guy but that’s just how you were. You weren’t built for casual hookups or one-night stands. And you were sure that’s all this would be. Could you handle it? Would you be able to have sex with someone and then move on from it?
When you saw Harry walking back toward you you’d made up your mind. You’d finish your drink and tell him your verdict. You needed one more drink, though. Just to really loosen up. If you were going to do this if you were going to take a risk and have sex with a stranger, one more drink would help you relax about the whole situation.
Harry handed you your cocktail and sat down with his whisky in hand. He brushed his fingers over your arm as he spoke about how he knew Mr. Spector, “His cousin was my boss years ago. Before I got started in my current line of business. And since then, Alfred’s been inviting me to his parties. I can’t usually go but I rarely miss the winter ball.”
“And what is your line of business?” You asked before taking another sip of your verdant drink.
Harry grinned and licked his lips, “Let’s not talk business.”
You frowned and looked down at your red-painted nails. It wasn’t always polite to ask people what they did for a living but you figured given the circumstances, those being that he’d just asked you to have sex with him, it was okay. Clearly, you’d misjudged.
Harry gripped your chin and pushed your head back up to look at him, “Don’t feel bad for asking. You were just curious. I think the less we know of one another the better. Besides, work talk is boring. Don’t you think?”
You blinked again, his intense gaze was really working its way under your skin.
“Okay. Sorry. You’re right.”
Harry shook his head, keeping his hand at your chin, “And don’t say you’re sorry. Wouldn’t you rather talk about anything but work right now?” He let go of your chin and sat back in his chair as he kept his eyes on yours.
“I guess. It’s just that everyone here is networking and I thought it was only natural.”
“You and I are not networking, Y/n.” Harry grinned.
By the time your drink was but a clear puddle of melted ice at the bottom of the glass, you could feel how hot your face was from the alcohol. Your neck and ears were burning and all of Harry’s soft touches were making you fuzzy. The way he was whispering in your ear…
“Okay. I’ll go with you to your room tonight,” you spat out quickly before you could change your mind.
Harry’s gaze lowered to your breasts again, his arrogant grin in place, “I know, darling. I was just waiting for you to admit it. You ready then?”
If he wasn’t so hot you’d have changed your mind at his cocky response. But god was he alluring. And somehow, his egotistical attitude was putting you at ease a bit. Because it would possibly be much easier to not get your feelings mixed up for a guy like him. It could just be a one-night stand. Like so many other people indulged in (which you always found absurd).
You both walked to the coat check to get your things before Harry led you, with his hand at your low back to the elevators.
You draped your wool coat over your shoulders and stood awkwardly in the elevator next to the man you were leaving with. You couldn’t believe yourself. You were 28 years old so it shouldn’t have felt like such a big deal but it was. You’d never done anything like it before.
“Are you nervous?”
You sighed and nodded as you looked up at the man, “A little. Haven’t ever done anything like this.”
Harry hummed and nodded, “I can tell. That’s okay. I’ll take the lead.”
There was a black car waiting for you at the curb as soon as you exited the building. A man who was standing near the car opened the back door and gestured for you to get in. You followed behind Harry and the door was shut, closing you off from the outside and loud noises of the city to the dark leather interior of the car. Harry’s hand slid up your exposed thigh the moment you’d settled into the seat, “We’re gonna have a lot of fun, me and you.”
You turned your head to look at him, “Are you always like this? So confident about everything?”
Harry laughed and squeezed at your thigh, “If I wasn’t confident I wouldn’t be as successful as I am.”
You guessed that made sense. You just found it so strange that he was so sure of himself even when he hardly knew you at all.
You felt Harry’s long, ringed fingers slide upward over your plushy thighs in search of your panties most likely. And when he leaned over you and took your jaw with his free hand and smushed his mouth against yours it felt like crystalized water beginning to melt and drip and pool onto the ground.
He pulled your hand onto his lap and pressed your palm over his crotch, to which you felt as he grew harder and harder as the seconds passed with your lips connected.
When he was satisfied that you would be keeping your hand in place as you pressed down harder he raised his hand to your breast, his palm placed over the soft velvet before he lowered his mouth to your neck causing you to lean back the slightest for his access.
The car ride ended before you even realized you’d been moving through the city streets when the door you were sitting next to opened and the driver looked in at you two all disheveled and mid-kiss with his hand out for you to take.
Harry walked you into the hotel, which happened to be the same one you had a room at (how convenient you thought). The elevator ride up to his room was not unlike the car ride where you’d lost track of time and space when his lips were on yours and his tongue softly swiped at your mouth. You’d never had a man act this way with you before. It almost felt like desperation. Like he couldn’t keep his hands off you.
Guiding you off the elevator and to his room, you felt buzzy and your heart was bouncing around in your chest wildly. His hand was at the back of your neck, his long fingers gently ghosting over your skin.
The moment you were pushed into his room Harry stood over you and began to loosen his tie, “Take your dress off. God, I need to see you.”
You were already worked up as you panted, keeping your eyes on his, slowly unzipping the back of your dress and stepping out. You had forgotten that you were wearing a nude shapewear slip that kept your tummy rolls in place and your breasts pert. The back of the slip was low cut to accommodate your dress. You looked down over yourself and stuck your fingers into the fabric to pull it down and as your breasts were revealed Harry groaned and leaned down to wrap his pink lips over your nipple. You watched his tongue drag over your plump flesh and his fingers dig into your heavy tits as he worked his way around both sides.
You were pressed against the wall as he pinned your arms back and kissed his way up your tits to your neck and then he found your lips.
Finally, he backed away, giving you space to finish the reveal of your body to him as he continued removing his own clothes.
You watched tattoos appear on his skin and the more buttons he undid the more you saw of him. He was strong and muscular. His pecs were impressive and he had a soft six-pack hidden under the fabric that you only saw once he tossed his shirt off. Tattoos on his arms scattered over his skin.
Tugging at your slip to get it off you knew Harry’s eyes were on your body. But you weren’t going to stop now. Even if you were slightly embarrassed. This was happening and you knew he wanted it. Sometimes you worried about the logistics of sex being as heavy as you were, especially when it came to being with a guy who was not at all. But Harry’s build was masculine and broad and he was clearly going to be able to handle you.
When his pants were off and he was down to his underwear you knew he was enjoying the view of all your bits based on the thick lump under the fabric. You were left standing in your silky black panties when he stood over you and smoothed his hands up your arms and palmed over your tits, “Jesus fucking Christ look at you. Get on the bed for me.”
You swallowed and stepped toward the area of the room where the bed was and sat at the edge, watching as he stalked after you. His eyes were dark as he crawled over you and nudged you with him into the middle of the perfectly made bed, soft and luxurious feeling under your skin.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he smoothed his lips against yours as he palmed over your skin down to your thigh, pinching at the fleshy insides as he pushed your legs open, putting his knees down into the mattress to keep you spread with his thighs.
He kept his lips working over yours, his tongue smearing against your tongue wetly as you felt his fingers dip down to your panties and then to the wet patch at your center. You could tell you were wet before he even touched you. He’d turned you on with ease. His voice, his body, his eyes, his confidence…
You felt him smile against your lips when he dredged his fingers up and down over your wet panties, right where your labia was. Soft strokes of his fingers pushed the fabric of your panties between your pussylips until he dragged a finger up and found your clit and you gasped. He circled over your clit, pressing the wet fabric into you.
When he lowered himself, using his lips and his tongue down your body as he went he looked up at your face after dotting kisses over your fleshy tummy, “You’re gorgeous and you smell so good. Such a dirty girl, though, aren’t you?” He dabbed more warm kisses down your stomach to just above your panties, “All wet for me like you’re desperate for cock,” he licked along the band of your panties and looked up at you again as he adjusted himself between your legs, “Are you desperate for cock, Y/n? Need me to take care of you tonight?”
You nodded, “Oh my god…” your words came out as a whisper, “Yes, Harry.”
When you felt his tongue glide up your crease over your wet panties your mouth dropped open wide. He was not holding back with the foreplay so far. You were usually disappointed in sex, the few times you’d had it. Foreplay was an afterthought. And only a handful of times did you ever receive any kind of mouth-to-pussy action, which you assumed was due to your size.
But Harry was having no trouble treating you like some kind of irresistible sex pot. He pushed your thighs harder and raked his tongue up and down over you until you’d bucked upward just a bit.
Harry’s fingers pulled at the waistband of your panties, “Taking these off because I need more.”
You felt your panties being moved down your legs then Harry returned with enthusiasm, his lips all over your cunt, sliding his tongue through your folds and his fingers pinching into your flesh before he poked the tip of his wet muscle to your clit and began to lick all around it, lapping you up and teasing you to the point you were shaking and whining, proving him right about how desperate you were.
When he finally stopped his teasing licks he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. You gasped loudly and moaned, to which Harry moaned into your pussy.
His shoulders were against the back of your thighs as he masterfully licked you out and kissed your clit until you were reaching down with one hand to slide your fingers into his thick curls.
And that only seemed to stir something more ravenous in him. He growled when he felt you pulling at his roots and suddenly you felt his fingertips at your entrance before he pushed them in slowly, the metal of his rings being nudged in the slightest. You were in an alternate universe. Somewhere that only existed you and Harry and the bed you were on as you laid spread out for him to pleasure.
He was good with his tongue. He used it over your clit like he understood what you needed, putting pressure where it was vital and then slurping you into his mouth making your entire body quiver in ecstasy. His repeated movements, soft tonguing, pulling at your clit, the bump of his fingers through your walls and into your delicate warmth, the precipice of your orgasm was taunting you.
“Harry!” You yelped when he sucked your clit in especially roughly and his fingers dug in deep making your pussy squelch.
He smiled and lifted his mouth, speaking against your cunt, hot breath coating your labia and clit, “Feels good, Y/n? You gonna let me give you an orgasm?”
You moaned pitifully and nodded to yourself as you scrunched your face when he attached his wet lips back to your clit and curled his fingers just right, “Yes! Oh my god…”
You had never felt anything like it before. Like Harry. And maybe it wasn’t that he was all that good at cunnilingus (he was), but perhaps it was the way he was handling you. The way he was so eager to make you feel good. The way he wasn’t worried about his own throbbing cock between his legs, growing heavier by the minute as he sucked and licked and kissed your cunt.
His focus was on you completely and you felt that. You felt his attention and his devotion to your pleasure before his. And that was what did it for you. It was the care and thoughtfulness of it all. It wasn’t like anything you’d experienced with any man before and it pushed you over the edge.
Your orgasm rolled out of you in waves as you writhed under him and cried curses and nonsense into the room. He held you down with one hand as well as he could so he could lavish you with his mouth until you were done with your unraveling. His fingers stroked your insides as you pulsed around them and felt the tingle of your clit being overwhelmed by his lips. You gasped and laughed at the way he continued ravaging you well past what was necessary.
Releasing his hair you pushed yourself up by your elbows to see his face still between your legs, his eyes closed like he was enjoying it just as much as you had. It might have been the hottest thing you’d ever seen in your life. But that could have been all those feel-good chemicals being released in your brain post-orgasm.
You pushed at his forehead to indicate you were done, “Okay!” You tried closing your legs but Harry pulled his fingers from your pussy and pressed you down as he licked up and up and up. Until finally he opened his eyes and looked at you, lips still making out with your pussy as you laughed and tried pulling away.
“It’s too much!” You giggled and moved your hips under him.
Finally, he parted from your labia and pushed himself up over you, caging you in as he hovered, “Good?” He raised his brows.
You rolled your eyes, “Obviously.” You laughed as you spoke.
Harry grinned and you watched him move away from you, pulling his underwear down and exposing his weighty cock, thick and long. Yes. He’d be able to handle you just fine.
He grasped it in his hand and moved next to you. You sat up and reached out to feel him, velvety and warm under your palm before getting to your knees and looking up at him as you lowered your lips to his shaft. You wanted to feel it on your mouth and in your mouth.
Dragging your wetted lips down until you reached the base you gripped him and tongued your way up to his tip and heard a shallow gasp from his chest. Licking around his crown you pulled at his skin and wrapped your lips around just the very tip of his head before slipping your tongue around him and sucking softly.
A beautiful deep moan was music to your ears. He was enjoying it. So you indulgently lowered yourself down a bit more, feeling the width of him take up space inside your mouth and on your tongue. Gentle strokes of your lips over the top part of his shaft and over his swollen head felt good for you. You hadn’t given head in a long time. And you could tell Harry was into it.
He smelled good. Nice and clean and warm. You used your hand to pull at the base of his shaft up to your parted lips as you sucked on him and lapped around his skin.
When Harry’s moans turned into a rhythmic panting you felt his hand at your jaw, nudging you up until your lips were pulled away from his pretty cock, “You are desperate for cock. Sucking me like that? If I didn’t want fuck you so bad I’d let you finish me off with that gorgeous mouth.”
You shifted back as Harry leaned over you and pressed his mouth against yours, his hand at your neck pushing you down into the mattress. His mouth was wet and smelled like you as he smeared his lips on yours. You moaned when he parted from you and got off the bed.
You could hear the crinkling of the wrapper from the condom as he sorted himself out and then crawled back next to you, taking your hand, “How’s that sound, Y/n? Want my cock inside your soft pussy? Hmm?”
Looking down at his hard length, covered in a condom, and back into his eyes you nodded, “Yeah,” you were breathless.
The grin on Harry’s face as he moved between your legs, his eyes on yours was like someone who’d just gotten the best news they’d heard all day. He thread his fingers through yours, pressing the back of your hand down into the mattress near your head.
The front of his strong thighs pushed against the inside of yours as he positioned himself over you. His cock heavy on your belly before he moved back, letting go of your hand to grasp himself.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good. I want to hear how good it makes you feel, okay?” His tip dragged through your wet labia, up and down, “Just lie there like the pretty little thing you are, and let me fuck you deep.”
You nodded as you watched his eyes. He was looking down at where his cock was brushing over your wet and puffy pussylips, his lips parted as he bumped into your clit and then smacked his girth down over you.
The sound of his cock dragging through your arousal made you feel like a different person. No man had ever taken the time to indulge the way Harry was. It was clear by the look on his face that he liked everything he saw and even how soaked you were.
You felt the tip of his broad head nudge into your entrance as he looked at you with dark pupils. He pulled his brows together as he savored the feel of you and gently pushed through the ring of your wet muscle. Just knowing that you were making him feel like that had you moaning with your eyes locked on his.
“Feel that, Y/n?” He slowly dipped in and pulled back, wetting the condom as he went, pushing in deeper on each thrust forward.
“I feel it…” your words came out shaky as his length was forced through your slick walls, spreading your insides apart slowly.
Harry inhaled a breath and let out a deep moan when his cock reached as far as he could take it, “Taking my cock so good,” he pulled back and looked down at the scene between your legs. All wet and puffy, his cock coated in your creamy arousal. He loved the way your pussy gripped him and your labia stretched around his cock, “Gonna be dreaming of this,” he pressed his thumb over the space where his cock was moving into your entrance and then up to your clit to rub circles softly, wet and warm.
“Ohhh…” you whimpered when his thumb pressed into your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your entire body was boiling and buzzing as Harry rocked into you, his balls thwacking slowly into your ass.
“Yeah? Tell me how you like it, pretty girl.”
How could you answer this man with his dick lodged so deep in your tummy? How did he expect you to make a coherent sentence with the way his thumb was stroking your clit back and forth? How could your brain form any sort of response when his cock was dragging through your insides and pressing into all your bits, hitting your hidden spots like his shape was made just for you?
“I want it… Mmm… like that…” was all you could bear to squeak out when he smacked into you in one harsh thud.
“Harder? Softer?” His thumb never ceased the yummy caressing of your fleshy pearl.
“Fuck!” You gasped when he smacked into you again, causing your body to jolt upward from the force.
“Like that? Need it a little rougher, Y/n? Need my cock to split you in half?” Again, a harsh thrust into your guts that had you gurgling and falling apart too soon.
“Oh she wants it a little rough, I can tell. Your cute pussy likes a good pounding doesn’t she?”
You held your breath when you felt him angle over you and sink down into you until it hurt. Until his long cock was buried in so deep his balls were tucked against your ass as he ground himself in, “Pussy like this needs a lot of attention. Lots of care…” he moaned when you clenched around him, “Want me to take care of you? Want to feel what my cock can do to this pretty little pussy?”
“Yes, please, Harry!” You grasped onto his forearm as he rolled solidly into you, deep and slow, slushy and sopping between your thighs.
“Yeah? Gonna stuff myself so far into you that you can’t breathe. Gonna make you come so hard you’ll never want another cock again.”
You moaned and felt his crushing weight over you as he continued grinding his hips against yours but then suddenly he was pulling out and you felt a sting on your thigh when he smacked you, “Get on all fours.”
You were blurry and floaty as you rolled over and pushed yourself up to do as he asked. Your pussy puffy and begging for more of his cock.
His hands gripped the side of your hips tight and you smushed your face down to the mattress before you felt his cock rip into you in one punishing stroke. You cried out and he did it again. And again. His cock pummeled into you repeatedly, punching the air from your lungs and giving your pussy the best fucking of its life.
You did like it hard. A little rough. Nothing wild, just something that you could feel for a couple of days. Something that made you gasp and brace for more.
“Holy fuck…” Harry gritted as he fucked into you, watching his dick disappear repeatedly. Your pretty round bottom bouncing and wiggling at each plunge. He dug his fingers into your ample flesh and spread you out so he could watch as you gripped him exactly like he loved. The little noises you were making had him reeling.
It was his favorite. A beautiful woman with her ass in the air as he railed her deep. But especially when it was a nice big ass. He loved to be able to grip something in his hands. To squeeze and smack. It always felt so much better to have something to hold on to. Not that he didn’t love slender women. He certainly did. But there was nothing like the feminine physique of a woman with meat on her bones, wide hips, a big tummy, and extra bits to touch and run his fingers over. It was fucking sexy.
You could feel him as he worked you open. He buried in deep and then pulled back until his thick tip was being pushed through your entrance again and again. He was long and every inch of him pulled and pushed through your walls, sliding along all your bits and ridges making your skin heat up.
Then you felt his chest against your back and his cock was angled so far inside of you that your eyes nearly crossed, “Love your little gurgles and moans, Y/n. Feels good on my cock?” He rolled into you, keeping himself stuffed to the hilt.
“Yes! Fuck, Harry!” You turned your head to speak so he could hear you and then you felt his lips on your back as he kept rocking into you languidly, never pulling back, only dipping into you, swiveling his hips to ensure you could feel every part of his cock moving through you.
You felt a tear drip from your eye as he reached down for your hand and moved it toward your pussy, “Rub that wet clit, sweet girl. Want to see you quivering under me again.”
The moment your fingertips came into contact with your puffy nub you moaned and all you could feel was Harry’s warmth and his big cock and your clit being worked just how you liked.
He began to rut into you with unforgiving strength. Your body was being smacked into and your skin was beginning to burn where his hips were striking your ass. It felt incredible. It felt like a man who knew what he was doing.
“Yes! Yes!” You shakily cried out. Harry’s long shaft was gliding in and out and you could feel him every time your fingertips moved back the slightest. His heavy cock slipping into your pussy vigorously as you ran your fingers back and forth, up and down on your clit.
Harry put a hand on your low back and settled his thumb into the top of your crack as he watched your cunt swallow him on each thrust. He bit his lip at the gorgeous sight and lowered his other hand to your right cheek, pulling at your flesh to give himself a better look at how you were taking him. How perfect you were for his cock.
When he noticed your moans growing louder and more desperate and then saw your thighs shaking he pounded into you with deliberate, long strokes so you could really feel him inside of you.
And feel him you did. His length filled you up and pulled back, before pressing back in until your world began to spin and your pussy was powerless to your orgasm. You reared yourself back onto his cock and cried out pathetically as Harry breathed heavily and felt your cunt sucking him in and spasming around him.
“Oh, baby…” he moaned and watched more cream coat his cock from your pussy. You were coming hard, lips wide open as you cried out and gasped, and the way you were clenching around his cock felt like the best thing he’d ever experienced during sex. You were fucking sexy.
When your voice lowered and your body stopped quivering Harry halted his movements and ran his hands on your back gently and down to your bum, keeping his cock lodged inside of you, “Creamed all over my cock, Y/n,” swiped his thumb around the area where you two were connected and lifted it to his mouth to taste.
You panted and smiled into the blanket when he suddenly pulled out and popped your bottom with his palm, “On your back. Want to see that pretty face again.”
You were on the verge of being completely wiped out. You knew he hadn’t come yet, though, and you felt like he deserved it with how fucking good he was. Two orgasms already. That was unheard of for you.
Harry helped you situate and he fit himself between your thighs. You looked down at his cock and noted he was right about you creaming all over him. White gobs of your arousal at his shaft and in the thatch of dark, trimmed hair at his base. God his cock was good.
“You feel so good on my cock, Y/n. You know that?” He pressed his tip inside of you, making you drop your mouth open and he gasped. The way he stretched you apart was insane. It felt incredible.
“Fuck… your pussy needs my cock inside of her. Yeah? I could fuck this sweet cunt all day and never get tired of it. Fuck, baby…” he moaned his words as he thrust into you, his hips dragging against you and your clit being pushed into with each plunge.
You took your breasts in your palms and kneaded at them as you watched Harry’s face twist up in rapturous despair. Every roll of his hips was torture for him. His body wanted to come but he had planned on you having one more orgasm. Wanted to feel you squeezing and pulsing around him as he came with you. The decadence of being able to feel your pussy coming around him as he was pouring into you would be bliss.
The edge of his hairline was wet with sweat. You knew he was working hard to give you his cock the way you needed it. His arms were flexing as he held himself up over you, back and thighs clenching and stretching as his muscles exerted, loosening and tightening.
Now there was no slap of skin or the sound of thuds filling the room, it was only hot breaths and gasps and wet pussy being fucked. The occasional distant sound of people moving past his suite on their way to their own.
Deeper and deeper he stuffed himself as he kept his radiant green eyes locked on your face. Your insides were bowing and tensing and vibrating with delight. It was the best you’d ever gotten and his handsome face watching you had your head spinning and your body melting under him. He was too good. The way he was tugging his cock inside of you and stroking your walls and fitting himself deep into your guts like he was trying to reach up into your spine and your lungs under your ribcage… it was going to stick with you for a long time. And he was probably right. You’d be dreaming of his cock. You were sure of it.
His pacing was perfect; smooth, wet thrusts and a satisfying angle that had your whole body resonating with sex and electric crackles like you’d never felt. His undulating hips kissing your clit each time he ground into you.
“Look at your tits jiggling, Y/n. Fucking so hot…” he panted his words like he was out of breath, “Damn baby,” he moaned as he slowed his stride for a moment to collect himself. His balls were already tightening against his body, ready to release too soon.
He leaned over you and pressed his lips against yours and it made your skin and pores and nerves spark and convect. Little by little your pulse accelerated until you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. His tongue inside your mouth and his perfect cock inside of your tummy, the smell of him and of you and the soft bed beneath your back- it had you nearly going up in flames.
When he finally began to move again, when he’d steadied his composure so he could last a little longer you gasped into his mouth.
Now his long strokes were thick and stunted, his shaft inching in and in and in until you couldn’t breathe. His nose pressed into yours and his lips moved around your lips, smearing saliva over your warm, plush mouth with his tongue. It was filthy, the way he kissed. Wet, aching. Like he was fucking your lips with his tongue at the same time he was filling your pussy with his cock.
You felt his muscles begin to shake as he parted from your mouth and looked down at you. Blown-out pupils, pink parted lips, and a flushed face. He was about to come and you could see it on his face and in the way he was panting and getting louder with each jerk of his hips. It was delicious.
“You gonna come, baby? Gonna milk my cock with your cunt, squeeze around me, and drain me?”
Grabbing onto his forearms you nodded and feebly whimpered, “Yes… oh my god…”
Harry groaned as he canted his hips sloppily and his thrusts grew erratic as he held back to wait for you to come first.
You’d always heard of the mythical concept of a cock fitting together perfectly with the right pussy and how it could make women come from penetration alone when they’d never been able to before. You’d never experienced it and thought it was just a made-up fantasy. A wild fable.
But you were wrong. Harry’s cock proved you wrong. He was nudging into things inside of you that even your vibrator missed and as shocking as it was to know you were about to come, yet again, you were of no mind to think too much about that because your body was submitting to the way he was handling you and your pussy was already beginning to flutter around him and pulse as you gasped and dropped your mouth wide.
Yes, you were having one of those kinds of orgasms that you could feel from the inside out. That made your ears feel stuffy and your vision go white as you cried out loudly.
Harry choked out a gasp as soon as he felt your walls gripping him and you tossed your head back, moaning his name over and over again like you needed the room to know who was making you fall apart.
Your pussy wrapped around him so perfectly and he looked down from your perfect tits to your face and he lost it. His own cry of your name was loud as he threw his head back and throbbed, releasing into his condom, his come filling the tip full as you milked him with your pulsing orgasm.
Divine. Complete and utter perfection. He hadn’t come so hard in years and the way you responded to him only coaxed him deeper into his own ecstasy.
When his cock stopped pumping and twitching he opened his eyes and looked down at you looking all fucked out and satisfied. Exactly what he had hoped for when he brought you to his room. Better even.
When your gaze finally found his he smiled down at you. He figured it would be nice to have you again in the morning if you were up for it because he certainly didn’t want to have you leave. Not yet. Maybe he’d order room service and you two could talk some more. Maybe another round or perhaps you’d both just crash after that marathon. But he knew he’d want to give you a parting gift in the morning at the very least. One of those soft and lazy morning fucks before kissing you and sending you off so he could catch his flight the following afternoon.
Yeah. That sounded nice to him.
But the sudden sound of his phone buzzing had him turning to look at the nightstand. You’d barely recovered from your scorching orgasm when he rolled off of you and quickly picked up the phone, his back to you, “Hello?”
You inhaled deeply. You still couldn’t believe you’d just done that. With a stranger nonetheless.
“No, I’m okay. Just ran to grab the phone is all.” He was panting just enough that whoever was on the line had wondered what he’d been doing. You turned your head to look at him. His back was to you.
“Sure, babe. See you then.”
You sat up quickly. Babe?
Harry stood from the bed and picked up his pants, “I’m sure you can get your clothes on and be on your way quickly. Yeah?”
You instinctively covered your chest with your mouth dropped open, “What?!” Harry paused before putting his shirt on and looked at you with an unamused expression, “I said you need to leave.” He raised his voice a notch as if the reason you asked him what was because you hadn’t heard.
You shook your head and slid off the bed feeling dirty and shameful, reaching to the ground for your discarded dress, “I know what you said. I was surprised that you were… never mind.”
The sudden change in his attitude toward you was a shock. He’d been so attentive and affectionate and now he was cold. Inconsiderate. You struggled to keep up with the abrupt shift in his temperament.
Harry walked to the window as you shimmied into your dress and attempted zipping it up, “Fuck…” you mumbled under your dress. The last thing you wanted to do was ask this asshole to help you but really didn’t want to walk out of his room with your dress half unzipped and your ass crack hanging out.
“Can you please help?” You sighed and looked over at him. God, you hated how attractive he was, especially now that he was being so cold to you suddenly.
 Harry silently shook his head to himself as he tucked his shirt in and walked toward you as if it were some terrible chore to help you.
“There. Now I really need you to go. Quickly.”
You hadn’t even had the chance to wipe up in the bathroom or pee. You were stunned at his behavior.
You gave him your dirtiest scowl, scooped up your underwear, and grabbed your small purse, stuffing your bra and panties inside. The slip you had to carry in your hands. As you pulled your shoes back on your feet one at a time, Harry was plucking the condom off the floor and looking around the room in a slight panic.
“Fuck you, Harry. This is rude. You didn’t have to treat me like garbage. Not like I was gonna fall for you or something you prick.” When your feet were securely in your shoes Harry walked across the room toward you as you tried to make your way to the door to leave.
“Y/n?”
You turned to look at him.
“Can you toss this in the garbage near the elevator for me? Thanks,” he pressed the used condom that was stuffed into a tissue into your hand and you nearly lost it. Nearly fucking karate chopped his ass to the ground and stomped on his face. But then you realized something. He was in a hurry to get you out of his room because he had someone coming up to see him. Someone he wanted to hide the condom from. A lover? Girlfriend? Wife?
Instead of responding verbally you flipped him off and slammed the door behind yourself. But before you walked away from the door you pulled the condom from the tissue and put it over his doorknob, nice and tight. The used rubber was still heavy with his come and you smiled as you dropped the tissue onto the floor and pulled out a cocktail napkin and pen from your purse, pressed your lips into it to leave it lightly stained with your leftover lipstick, and then wrote Thank you, Harry xx. You balanced the napkin right over the condom on the doorknob and then grinned to yourself as you walked down the hallway to the elevator. You sure were glad your room was in the same hotel. When the elevator doors opened a pretty blonde stepped off and rushed past you, headed in the direction of Harry’s room. She barely even glanced your way before you stepped onto the elevator and pressed 2 for your floor.
So maybe it wasn’t a terrible ending to the night after all.
Part 2
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marilynthornhilllover · 2 months
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I know that you love me, you don't need to remind me,
Emily. P x Jennifer. J x Fem!Reader
Warning: talk of drug consumption, reader is high, mood swings, use of guns (weed) , bad flirting, mommy kink, praise kink, teasing, cringe kiss etc .
A/n: I saw that new jennifer and emily episode where Emily was high and they were so cute! Had to make a fic😌
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It was that quite long awaited time of the year where criminal agents are given two weeks off from work. You were beyond exhausted but nevertheless was very happy to finally be able to take off your FBI vest and feeling relieved that you won't have to be picking it up for another week or so.
You soon realized that you literally didn't have plans arranged for the upcoming two weeks ahead, or even tonight. Everyone was pairing up as they packed up their office stuff and headed out. Spencer and Derek laughed and gave eachother a high five as they made their way downstairs to sign out while Emily and jj were already giggling about some random joke as they continued to pack up.
You nervously decided to walk up to them standing in the corridor like a shadow making sure not to seem creepy— but maybe you were doing the opposite. Ever since you joined the team, yes you did make friends but no one ever went the extra mile to offer to hang out with you. Only Emily would now and then eat lunch with you at her desk.
Jennifer wasn't bad either, she did offer to help you with a case file once, you went over to her house which you complimented her for the cozy interior, and yes the boys were also good to you but on a employee holiday like this no one was paying any attention whatsoever to you. They already plans of their own.
You on the other hand, had none, all you were gonna do was shower, eat, sleep and repeat for the next week or so. Nothing productive, not as if you had anything to do either. Prentiss and Mantegna had insisted that someone help you with case files so its not as if you have a major cade to crack over the holiday.
You were as free as a bird and your energetic self needed something to reinforce that energy into. If you could have went on a cruise for two weeks you definitely would have.
Emily scoffed at Jennifer's joke before turning around and spotting you cuddled up in the corner like a little mouse. She tilted her head to the side before approaching you with a warm smile.
" hey hon, you got any plans for the holiday?" She asked chewing a piece of gum that she had been for the entire day — somtimes you wonder if any flavour at all is still existence in it.
" uhh nope, but I'll sure my couch has plans for me though" you said sarcastically and of course she laughed, because Emily laughs at anything and everything which you did find cute. Emily always made sure that she kept everyone at a level where they felt at their absolute best when around her.
She was never mean to anyone really. Always funny, ambitious, smart and talented she was everything. Sometimes her aura was just too high, but she was always still approachable and not prideful.
Emily was like one of those drugs that you couldn't stop using because it feels too good, and when you do take it, it altars with your entire brain function and chemistry.
And speaking of chemistry, that was something you and Emily had alot of. Everytime her eyes made contact with yours, you felt as if your body was thrown into the deepest pits of hell. You'd get shivers everytime she passed you or called you a pet name. You'd go completely weak in your knees when she made the littlest amount of psychical contact with your skin — it was absolutely ridiculous just how easily she could get under your skin.
Or the time when you were making coffee in the kitchen and she needed to grab something from the top shelf and she moved you by putting her hands on your hips, with her chest pressed so closely against your back with face by your neck.
Emily made you question things. You knew you always had a thing for older women, always, since highschool and it never seemed to go away. And Emily was exactly your type, you just weren't sure if she felt the same way in return and you didn't wanna ruin the amazing friendship you both had by letting your stupid emotions and hormones get the best of yourself.
" well I'm sure you'll find something to entertain yourself, JJ and I are hooking up at her place tonight for snacks and a movie" she placed hands on her hips are she turned to look at jj who was texting away on her phone before turning back to you. You gaved her a akward smile, before a breathy nervous laugh escaped your mouth.
" hooking up huh" you saw as her eye brows quirked before a sly smile came into evidence on her face and quickly glanced at Jennifer who was now angrily texting before taking a step closer towards you, closing the the last gap space that was there. Her body heat and perfume over took your senses making your breath hitch.
You pressed your palm against her chest sneaking a quick glance at jj and the camera above. Emily was looking at you with a teasing smirk, she leaned down besides your ear and whispered.
" do wanna hook up with me as well?" She pulled back to see the reaction on your face and just as she imagined it was absolutely priceless. She chuckled before pulling away completely.
" oh my God emily would you leave poor y/n alone, let's go already" Jennifer said with a tint of exhaustion and annoyance her voice. Emily chuckled before gently caressing your cheek. The both women waved you goodbye before departing and going their way.
You sighed before picking up your bag and leaving, you locked your office door and went home. You did decided to walk with a few case files home and evidence objects to keep yourself busy during the holiday to stop yourself from going insane from the intense boredom you were prone to have.
— — — —
Emily and Jennifer had just sat down and were about to enjoy their late afternoon with wine and salt and vinegar chips when a continuation of loud knocking could be heard on jj's front door. Both women looked at eachother with utter confusion on their faces — the weren't expecting anyone. Jennifer decided to get up and go check the door, Emily following closely behind with her hand placed tightly on her gun.
The door bell soon started ringing along with the knocks which triggered Jennifer even more. Unlocking the door Jennifer threw it open, not caring what stood on the opposite side of it, after all emily was ready to protect her best friend at all cost, even if it meant shooting someone in their foor.
" if I had my way I swear I would—" as soon as she saw you she stopped talking, her eye brows quirked as she squinted her eyes to make a better appearance of your face in the dim moon light. Emily let out a soft sigh when she saw you but quickly went back into a state of worry at the same time.
Now you had both women wondering what you were doing at their house.
" y/n? I didn't know you were coming over, did Emily invite you?" Jennifer turned around hoping to get a confirmation nod from Emily but she shook her head and pursed her lips, letting her know she was just as confused as her.
" Well aren't you guys a bit rude, aren't you gonna invite me in?" You muttered but before they could react you let yourself in. You carefully walked down the long fancy corridor switching off some lights on your way because they made your eyes burn, making your way to the living room area, having knowing your way around jj's house since the last two times you were there.
You stumbled over the coffee table and landed right onto the sofa, face first with a soft groan. You dropped the ziplock bag of cheese puffs you had brought onto the floor.
She walked up to you and you and sat beside you on the couch, she picked you up by both your forearms and made you look at her.
Both women side eyed eachother, both in desperate need to know what on God's green earth was going on. Jennifer leaned against the wall to further scrutinize you. Emily on the other hand was just worried how you got here on your own with no car or phone.
" hey y/n sweetie are you..... drunk?" Her voice sounded like when water got into a phone speaker and you tried to play a song— you couldn't understand it. You rubbed your eyes and glanced at the table to which your face instantly lit up when you saw the salt and vinegar lays chips.
You grabbed them ferociously then took out some chopsticks you had stuffed in the back pocket of your jeans and started eating the chips. At this point both women were flabbergasted, mouths open, jaws dropped. Jennifer took a deep breath before she turned around and went to her fridge to grab you a drink to help you sober up because it was crystal clear that you were beyond drunk, drunk was an understatement.
" what time is it?" You suddenly asked putting the chips down and dusting off your hands.
" time for some hydration, here you go" Jennifer said as she passed you a bottle of cold cranberry juice. Once again your face lit up like a child on Christmas day.
" ohhhh, it's got what plants crave!" You exclaimed. The look on Jennifer's face when you said that was priceless as Emily silently continued to look at you with a completely blanket stare.
You placed the bottle of juice at the side of your head as if it was an ice pack and burped. You cleared your throat before speaking up again.
" have you guys seen that movie! Idiot city!.... wait city Idiot... wait... yeah" it's like your body was replaced with a child's and this called for huge concern. Emily sighed heavily and took the bottle from your hand.
" Idiocracy?" Jennifer whispered and you nodded.
" I knew I liked you! Ohhh, I and on my way here I saw a cat jumping off your house roof then it turned into a dog and flew away as a mosquito" you said before the loudest laugh took you over that you almost started crying.
Emily whispered " oh good lord" before she shook her head, Jennifer was still completely and totally lost for words. Jennifer had a feeling that being drunk would not cause someone to behave like this— well of course she knew, she's a profiler. She had a feeling you were high, but she didn't want you to act out and she would need proof for Emily because knowing her she wouldn't believe for a minute you would do drugs.
" umm y/n what's in the bag?" Jennifer asked and your eyebrows quirked, you placed your finger at you ear urging her to repeat even though she was so damn close to you.
" What's in the bag" she repeated as she dragged her words this time. You shrugged.
" I don't know what time the supermarket closes" emily stood up and walked towards to kitchen to grab her phone, you had the agent stressed. Jennifer just took it upon herself to grab the bag of " cheese puffs" before she walked towards emily.
" look I know you may not believe but I have a pretty good feeling that, that girl right there is literally the profound definition of what we call high" emily scoffed.
" Oh come on, she probably had too much wine I mean weren't we just about to drink wine as well?" She restated trying to convince Jennifer, but honestly to this rate she just couldn't, Jennifer was already convinced from her own opinion.
" emily elizabeth prentiss which wine do you know makes someone this drunk?" Jennifer asked, emphasizing on the last two words of her sentence. Emily shrugged before looking back at you, who was now sniffing the air every two seconds like a curious dog. Jennifer rolled her eyes before opening the bag of cheese puffs and taking a sniff.
She gaged before pulling away quickly.
" this smells like straight up weed!" She swiftly turned to let Emily have a sniff, to which Emily pulled away as well. Jennifer closed the bag and turned it around where there was writing in black. " DO NOT OPEN, CONTAINS CASE 101 EVIDENCE".
" you ate the case evidence! Oh my god!" Jennifer looked like she was going to erupt like a volcano and her high pitched tone of voice was making your head hurt and ears ring.
" I was hungry, and I didn't know that they were edibles" you whispered as you squinted your eyes since it was getting harder to see. Jennifer looked at you in disbelief as she turned to Emily for back up. Before Emily could utter a word Jennifer was already furious.
" Emily, don't even! She basically ate the entire bag!" She shouted. She saided pacing the room with her fingers gently massaging her temple to calm her.
" what are we gonna tell hotch, or even worst David" Jennifer covered her face with her both her hands before leaning over the kitchen counter.
" Well I mean, she probably just ate the backup stash, it should be fine, we should really be worrying about is her health" emily muttered scratching her head. Jennifer looked up at emily as her jaw dropped.
" your defending her?!" Emily raised her hands in defense but before she could reply Jennifer took the chance.
" I seriously cannot believe you right now!" Jennifer once again, started pacing the room, this time even more quicker.
" Oh come on jj, what are the odds that people make silly mistakes like these?" Jennifer stopped, and looked at emily with wide eyes.
" Well with the odds as high as her I'd say zero!" She said angrily before picking up her phone.
Emily sighed before looking over at you who was now eating the chips and gnawing your teeth wildly making crumbs fall all over the place. In a way Emily felt bad for you, mostly pity because she knew what you did was down right stupid but Jennifer was being a tadbit too harsh on you in your current position — knowing you couldn't properly comprehend the situation or what was going on.
" ok I'll take her home and we can speak to the team about this tomorrow when y/n is a better state of mind, ok?" Emily said in a reassuring voice. Jennifer sighed in frustration before biting her lip and nodding approvingly.
Emily carefully picked you up off the couch and wrapped her arm around your waist as she insisted to take you home safely. Her body warmth was comforting and her perfume was like a lullaby putting you to sleep this time. You melted in her embrace as she took you outside.
Your vision was blurred and the cold air on your skin — although you had a jacket on, was making you shiver. Seeing this emily hugged you tighter. She opened the door to her wagon and assisted you into the passenger seat and putting on your seat belt for you. You looked at her, she looked like one of those ancient paintings,the ones you can't withdraw your eyes from, the Renaissance ones.
You weren't sure if maybe it was the drugs or the hormones that came after taking the drugs but you felt the need to kiss emily, your eyes flicked down to her lips that were slightly parted as she concentrated on getting the seatbelt to adjust to your liking. Her smooth skin and wrinkled lines that ran across her forehead and eye line area, her little cute eye bags from all the hard work she does.
You couldn't resist the urge, she was a drug, she was your drug. You licked your lips and leaned in. Your lips connected with hers in a slow soft kiss. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. Emily didn't pull away, she was surprised yes, but she didn't pull away. Emily couldn't cover up the feeling she felt for you but she also didn't want to take advantage of your drunken state.
Taking it that she was enjoying it as much as you, you tried to force your tongue into her mouth but that's when she pulled away. Your brows furrowed and for a moment the drugs may have returned your common sense and you realized what you did — what you were trying to do. And soon the embarrassment and cringe settled in.
" sorry, oh God I'm so stupid!" You whispered as you fought back tears, you covered your face with both hands and started sobbing. Emily sprinted around to the drivers seat to comfort you. She gently peeled your hands away from your face, holding your palms in hers she caressed them with her knuckles softly. You sniffed and shook your head in denial before looking out the window.
" hey, sweetheart look at me please" her voice was as soft as an angel and so gentle as if you were something valuable that could be broken, that's something you loved about emily, she was so comforting in all circumstances, no matter what. She placed her hand under your jaw and turned you to look at her. She stared at you with her cute Bambi eyes so filled of love, and she so badly wanted to say " I love you" but she knew you wouldn't be able to comprehend them.
" look y/n, i wanna— kiss you back but I can't. That doesn't mean I don't want to, I just want you to be able to give me your full sober concent." She spoke as slowly and clearly as possible so you won't misinterpret anything.
" and your not stupid, we all make mistakes my love. Once I accidentally— well I got drunk the morning of my Law exams and failed them, and that did set me at a disadvantage for my career but I still made it into this job" she continued to rub your knuckles and wip every tear that fell from your eyes.
" and this joke takes y/n, but it also gives.... it gave—" she took a deep breath before exhaling heavily. " it gave me you." Hearing these words made your heart flutter souly. Your little smile came across your face which emily mirrored.
" now, my sweet girl, my I take you home?" She spoke in a old French accent waving her hand a fancy motion, You both laughed until you were out of air. after the laughter died down She chuckled and placed a hand on your thigh squeezing the tender flesh which made your breath hitch.
The drive home was long but certainly not quiet at all, you and Emily blasted high 2000s music all the way until she arrived at your home. You knew there was gonna be alot to discuss the next day but you should be fine once you have emily by your side.
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imnameimswrld · 8 months
Text
ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐙 ⁴⁴ ׄ ⑅ LH44 ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ
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— DESCRIPTION ੭yn is been wanting to take lewis' xmas present for a spin ever since he got a new one sent from mercedes amg, but it will take some convincing.
— PAIRING ੭ lewis hamilton x fem!reader.
— FILE ੭ social media au.
— WARNINGS ੭ suggestive content, mdni !
— FACE CLAIM ੭ meghan fox.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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ynwis_supremacy
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liked by lewish44news, ynusername, and 878 others
ynwis_supremacy actual footage of yn trying to convince lewis for the keys to his benz.
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user yn liked omg 😭😭
user the ice-cream one gets me everytime 💀
ynusername trust, I WILL get those keys.
⤿ ynwis_supremacy OMG QUEEN 😭
⤿ user ma'am, you dropped this: 👑
user I give it a week before he caves, who can handle saying "no" to THE yn ln for that long anyway ???
user "lew, look, i will take Roscoe on two walks, everyday, for 3 weeks,"
[ liked by ynusername ]
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Y/N baby 💋
...
i will take ros on 2 walks everyday for the next 3 weeks ?
Lew Baby 💋
cute, but no.
Y/N Baby 💋
OH COME ON LEWIS.
PLEASE.
just one spin, that's all I'm asking here babe
is that really too much to ask ?
Lewis Baby 💋
ofc baby, anything for you 😚
Y/N Baby 💋
c'mon lew-
wait... fr !!?!?!?
Lew Baby 💋
NO
fucking Russell snatched my phone
it's gonna take more convincing baby, sorry 💋
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Carmen 💏
how's convincing lewis for those merc keys going hon ?
Y/N 👭
I am failing miserably carm.
I feel like I've tried EVERYTHING
even sexy stuff like-
Carmen 💏
OKAY YN !!!
on that note, g and I have an indea
Y/N 👭
oh ?
I am all ears hon
Carmen 💏
4 words girl
sex in the benz.
ynusername
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liked by georgerussell63, carmenmundt, and 1 223 454 others
ynusername keys to the benz ? keys to the benz 😉.
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user HE CAVED.
georgerussell63 hehe 😎
⤿ lewishamilton something tells me you and carm were behind yn's little...act.
⤿ user UH, WHAT DID MOTHER DO 😲
⤿ ynusername shhh, i don't kiss and tell 💋
user mother brought out the big guns OO
⤿ user there's no denying THE yn ln
landonorris I'd say I'm impressed, but it's yn we're talking about here so
⤿ ynusername thanks lan ! 😄
⤿ lewishamilton mhm, thanks mate.
⤿ georgerussell63 oh suck it up hamilton, it's not like you didn't enjoy it 🥱
⤿ ynusername EXACTLY !!!
lewishamilton
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liked by ynusername, landonorris, and 1 233 090 others
lewishamilton bought her own so she'd stop asking for mine 🙄 , happy 2 years baby 💋
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user DAMN.
user mother has a G-WAGON PEOPLE
ynusername thaaankkss baby 🙃
⤿ lewishamilton love, you can thank me with a redo of what happened in my benz
⤿ ynusername mhm, yes sir !
landonorris MY EYES
carmenmundt yeah, you're welcome lewis
[ liked by ynusername & georgerussell63 ]
user oh they did the nasty IN THE BENZ.
user goals honestly
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loveandmurders · 4 months
Note
Hey I love your writing I know your busy at the moment but do you think you could do something like Missing piece but with Sinclair Daughter!reader where reader got taken by csp or something and they come back with their adopted family.
Hello love! Thank you so much for this request <3 I had so much fun writing for this that I did a little series in which you are Bo's daughter and you got taken away by your mother and then by social care.
I really hope that you'll enjoy it! <3
THE SUN OF AMBROSE (Part I)
Warnings: ANGST and more ANGST, no proof reading, mute!reader, mentions of suicide, death and violence, quick mentions of domestic violence, difficult childhood, sadness, despair and anger
“Are you alright, hon? What are you thinking about?” your adoptive mother asked you.
You were sitting on the porch, looking into the distance. She sat next to you as you shrugged.
“Are you not cold?” she asked you again and you shook your head. She kissed the top of your head before getting up.
“Don’t stay here for too long, ok? You need to get some rest too” she hummed and you nodded. You waited for her to come back inside before laying down on the ground, looking at the sky. 
You were silent now, almost completely mute.
You hadn’t always been like that though. When you were a young child, you were chatting around all the time. You were babbling to Lester about the nicest insects you saw or about what art project you started with Vincent. You were also happily asking questions to your dad about absolutely anything because you were certain that Bo had to know everything. You were telling all your little secrets to Vincent because you trusted him with them and your feelings. You were laughing around with your mother as she was cracking jokes for you. You were happy, you were solar. You were “the sun of Ambrose” as your uncles and father would call you. 
The Sinclairs couldn’t imagine a day without you; your presence was making everything so much better. You were too young to realise what your family was doing with the tourists, but you knew it was bad because your parents didn't want you out of the house when people were coming in. And Vincent needed to authorise you into the basement before you could come down. Your father always told you he would explain everything to you when you were a big girl, and you accepted this answer because Bo never lied to you before. You were aware that everytime people were coming in, there were new sculptures in the House of Wax though. 
But you were happy and loved; and when you are a child, it really all that matters. You couldn’t wait to be a grown up so you could help your dad with his business, but other than that, everything was perfect for you.
Until it wasn’t anymore.
Things had changed so much. You didn’t live in Ambrose and you often wondered if the House of Wax was still doing good, if your family was still doing good. You wondered if they missed you like you missed them. A hole inside your chest was constantly making you feel sick, but you couldn't do anything about it. No one could do anything about it.
You missed the nickname of “the sun of Ambrose” quite a lot too. The little necklace around your neck, in the form of a sun, was there to give you some comfort.This jewel has been a gift from your parents when you were 7 years old. And you have never removed it since then. 
And you wouldn’t now because it was the only thing left from your previous life. You weren’t even called a Sinclair anymore. It was as if everything had been a dream and you woke up pretty roughly when you were 9.
You didn’t truly remember everything that happened. You just knew that everything was going alright, you were safe in your family’s arms, you were loved, you were happy. And the next morning, your mother was gently waking you up.
She told you she needed you to come with her, that she had planned a secret birthday gift for your father and you were part of it. Didn’t your father call you “the best thing life ever gifted him” after all?
However, you needed to stay quiet, so no one would notice you were both leaving the house, so early on this Sunday morning. You obeyed your mother, no matter how hard it was for you to stay fully quiet, but you didn’t want to ruin the surprise for Bo. You were softly giggling behind your hand, innocent of what was truly happening. You left the house with your mother. She settled you in her car and drove away. You were getting curious as you were going away from Ambrose. You used to leave Ambrose only to go to Lester’s place or to go look for road kills with your uncle, but you never went so far away. Your mother wasn’t answering your questions either. You started to get upset with her and you wanted to come back home. It wasn’t fun anymore. 
At some point, she stopped in front of a big building and asked you to stay there. You obeyed again because you used to trust the adults in your life, fidgeting with your fingers and the rime of your cute little dress. You saw your mother entering the building and you felt uneasy. You weren’t too sure what kind of gift it was, but you wanted to come home very quickly. You hoped your mother let at least know Vincent or Lester where you were. A little voice inside your head told you that they couldn’t know, otherwise you wouldn’t be there. But you left the house very easily, so they had to know, right? Or maybe Vincent and Bo were too exhausted from the hunt of the day before, and Lester wasn’t home, to notice you were gone with your mother.
You jumped when you heard a gunshot and screams coming from inside the building. You knew those sounds quite well, but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like usual. You weren’t at home, you weren’t safe. You looked for your mother’s phone but you didn’t find it. You started to worry so you got out of the car and started to look around. You didn’t know what to do. Fear took possession of you when people you didn’t know ran to you. You were so terrified you didn’t fly away. You wouldn’t have been able to go far anyway, not under the burning sun, not with your cute little shoes and cute little dress. You silently prayed for your father to come get you soon.
You didn’t remember much of this moment, all happened in a quick blurr. You just remembered how terrifying it was that there were so many people checking on you and asking you questions. You told them you wanted your dad and your mom and you started to cry. No one listened to you and your dad never came to get you.
It was the last time you ever used your voice, after that, you grew mute. You cried even more when they took you away from the car and brought you inside the building. You were in an unfamiliar world, full of people who had no love for you. You were alone and powerless in the middle of adults who weren’t always nice to you. You were living your worst nightmare, without any hope to wake up anytime soon.
You spent days, weeks, months being asked questions about yourself, your family and where you came from. From those interrogations, you understood quite a few things:
No one knew anything about you, not even that you existed. You were like a ghost. Y/N Sinclair wasn’t registered anywhere. Actually, officially, there were no more Sinclair in the region. They disappeared like Ambrose disappeared from the maps. But why would the world need to know about you, when Ambrose was already your world?
Your mother went into the social care centre, told them she brought with her her child who was in danger, because your father was a killer. She told them the Sinclairs were abusive and violent people. Then she killed herself with a gun she stole from Bo. You didn’t know if it was true that the Sinclairs were abusive to her, because you never saw them hurting her. Maybe they hid this dark side of them from you because you were their heir. You didn’t believe your father was a killer though, how could he be when he loved you so much?
Your father always told you to keep Ambrose a secret, no matter what. He knew you would go to college or to university at some point - even if he wasn’t too happy with the idea - so he needed to make sure you wouldn’t say anything. It was the only promise you ever made to him, so when people started to ask you questions, you knew you had to stay silent or you would put your family in danger. And you didn’t want anything to happen to your father and uncles, otherwise how could they come get you and save you from this hell?
You had never cried so much in your life before, and now it was the only thing making people stop asking you questions. They did physical tests to make sure your mutism was psychological, which it was. They truly believed you were so shocked by what happened in your life, that you couldn’t talk anymore. However, the fact you already knew ASL - thanks to Vincent - made them wonder. The fact you refused to say anything about the Sinclairs too. You were a mystery no one seemed able to solve, a mystery that didn’t want to be solved actually.
You were relieved when you realised that even the police couldn’t find Ambrose, and hence your family. You didn’t understand when the police told you you had been sequestrated by your father. Yes, you used to be homeschooled, but you were happy. And no one ever hurt you before. And your father always told you that the rest of the world was a threat and dangerous for you. You believed him and now you could see how right he was.
You didn’t even cry for your mother’s death, because she betrayed you, your father and the family. And your father told you that family was everything and that you were everything to him. You were proud to be his daughter, his heir, his legacy. 
Now, you were nothing.
You didn’t know if the Sinclairs knew what happened. But after several months, you guessed they had no idea where you were or they would have already got you back home. You would never know how Bo reacted when he saw his daughter gone, how he broke everything in Ambrose out of pure pain, how Vincent grew even more merciless to tourists, how Lester never asked himself anymore if it was alright to kill people. Killers without their sun only grew even more destructive.
Bo never stopped bringing gifts for you in your bedroom; a bedroom he never touched since your departure. Everything was like you left it, because he was still hoping all of this was a nightmare. Or maybe he was dead and this was hell and his personal punishment. If only he was truly dead, he thought more than once.
At some point, people stopped asking you questions, but you stayed silent, as if something died inside of you, or at least stayed in Ambrose. Talking was betraying your family, and you couldn’t be a traitor like your mother.
Life has been happy and easy. Now things were different. 
You moved from place to place, from family to family. You were lucky enough to never be abused, but there was no joy and no laughter in your life anymore. Life was rough and children growing up around you, even rougher. The worst were the adults of course, because they thought they knew everything about you when they knew nothing. They thought you were a traumatised little girl, they thought you were a lost darling whose mother found social care before killing herself in front of everyone. They thought you were broken.
Two years later, you finally got adopted. 
Everyone said you were so lucky to get adopted away so quickly and that you should be grateful that a couple decided to take you with them. You weren’t sure you were happy about it or not. 
You couldn’t stop thinking about your real parents. 
You never stopped wondering why your mother did what she did. If she wanted to kill herself, she could have done it without bringing you down with her. She might have believed she was saving you from hell. But “hell” was your home, and the only place you wanted to be. Hell was soft to you.
You wondered if your father found a new wife and got a new baby. You knew how important it was for him and your uncle Vincent to have an “heir”. Now you were gone, so they needed to replace you. You couldn’t replace them.
What if they never looked for you and that was why you never saw them again? What if you weren’t that important to them? What if the police found them? What if they got killed because of some tourists?
Those questions were driving you crazy at night and there was nothing you could do about them.
Your adoptive family was good to you though. 
Not good like the Sinclairs used to be, of course, but they tried their best with you. They made sure you were doing good at school and that no one bullied you because of your past, or because you were mute. They learnt ASL for you. 
But they didn’t call you their sun and they didn’t talk about legacy. They didn’t praise you everyday, they didn’t have a limitless amount of patience with you, they didn’t allow you to be fully yourself.
They even forced you to stay calm. 
Sometimes, you could get angry, mad, or violent. Bo would have allowed you to get crazy so you would feel better. But in a normal world, you had to see a doctor and to take meds. But you didn’t want that, you didn’t want to believe you were simply so truly broken, you needed meds to be normal. You didn’t even want to be normal. And more than anything, you were tired of people talking about you in front of you without addressing you, you were tired of the other children whispering in your back, you were tired of people telling you what to do.
You were tired of being a prey when your father promised you you would be a huntress. You kept the anger for you and you let it burn you from the inside. You tried to play the role of the perfect and cute little angel so your parents would stop bringing you to the doctors and they would stop making sure you take your meds.
It worked. Of course, it worked, because you were a smart and dangerous girl. 
You were a Sinclair. And you would forever be one.
However, one day, the anger got too strong.
--
PART II
--
Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21
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Text
Family Affair
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, violence, humiliation, biting, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your sister surprises you with good news but you find it difficult to be happy for her. (older, short reader)
Character: Curtis Everett
Note: Happy Curtmas.
For @the-slumberparty Naughty or Nice Challenge.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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Chatter buzzes from the front room as you brace the wall and lift your foot to unzip your wedge boot. You’re late and the guests are already in the throes of their celebration. You wiggle off both boots and set them amid the clutter of many. As you stand straight and gather up your gift bags and purse, you’re met with an unexpected sight.
You lift a brow, slightly confused by the unfamiliar man. He’s tall, his hair is cut short, and dark stubble adds definition to his well-formed jaw. His eyes are a bold shade of aquamarine but are glossed over with an almost indifferent gleam. He doesn’t say a word as your eyes meet and he just as quickly turns into the front room, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans.
It’s been a few years. You’re sure a lot has changed. You head down the hall, past the broad archway of the front room, and into the kitchen. As usual, your mother is there, readying another tray of finger foods.
She looks up from her intent work and gives a wide smile, “you’re here!” She chimes, “I was half-waiting for a call saying you wouldn’t make it.”
Her arrow hits the bullseye of your guilt. You haven’t been the most reliable. You can make excuses; the divorce, work, depression. None of that can assuage her.
“Sorry, mom,” you go to put the gift bags down and she stops you with a tut.
“Ah, ah, you go add those to the pile and say hello,” she demands, “you’re not hiding in here.”
You look at her, almost desperate. You love her but sometimes you wonder if that feeling is mutual. As much as she’s right, you hoped she might have some empathy. She’s been through a turbulent split, she’s had to start again, but she expects you to do it flawlessly. As she has anything else.
“Love you, mom,” you give a sheepish smile.
“Love you too, hon,” she goes back to arrange the spiral of cocktail weenies, “make sure you say hello to your sister. She’s so excited to see you.”
You nod and a real smile breaks through. That was the one light at the end of the tunnel. Your baby sister was always your favourite. Despite nearly two decades between you, she’s your best friend. In a way, you feel like a second mother, taking pride in her like you would a child of your own.
The front room is filled to the brim. Aunt Geri and Uncle Val sit on a sofa with their son, Miko. A cluster of similarly aged cousins stand at the edge of the couch chatting. Aunt Maureen argues with Aunt Kaya, and the latter’s husband stands by the window with a glass in hand and his mind a million miles away.
You always found yourself out of place at these things. When you were a child, you were the youngest one in the room. Too immature to understand the dialogue of your elders. As you got older, the other cousins came along and were too young for your angsty teenage self. Now, you’re caught in the desert between the eras; the retirees complain too much and the coeds talk too loud.
You peer around. A set of broad shoulders draws your eye in the corner of the room. It’s that same man you saw before. He has his back to you as he maintains a casual posture. As he leans on one leg, you see your sister, Adeline, gabbing to him. Oh, he must be with her…
As you drop your gifts under the tree, you mull the revelation. You suppose the assumption wasn’t obvious. At first glance, he’s older than her, or maybe he just looks it. She’s still a sophomore in college but you suppose that makes even more sense. These are the years she gets to figure it all out.
You face the room and stop as Aunt Maureen latches onto your arm, blindsiding you with Kaya as they close in like hyenas.
“There she is,” Maureen slurs.
“Not too good for us after all, huh?” Kaya challenges.
“What? No, uh, Merry Christmas–”
“Where’s Benny?” Maureen interrupts. You blanch, nearly choking on your tongue. The mention of your ex-husband has you breathless.
“Maur,” Kaya hisses, “remember…”
“Probably with his new girlfriend,” you say tersely.
“Oh my,” Maureen lets you go and slaps her forehead, “I’m so sorry. The wine…”
“It’s… okay,” you shrug. “Not talking about it won’t undo it.”
“He was such a charming man,” Maureen hums mournfully. You blink at her.
“His loss,” Kaya pats your arm gently, trying to clean up her sister’s mess. You know they all think the same. You had a good thing and you blew it. Even if you told them he fucked his co-worker, you’d be the one who threw it all away.
“Pity you never got a kid outta him,” Maureen sighs.
“Really, divorce has been final for a year, I’m good,” you insist and shuffle past them, “I’m going to make the rounds.”
“Don’t forget to have some wine,” Maureen calls after you, “takes the edge off disappointment, you know?”
You growl and shake your head as you stalk away. You wave hello to your other aunt and uncle, hoping to avoid a similarly humiliating encounter, and weave through the sea of guffawing cousins. You come out on the other side as Adeline beams up at her guest.
Her gaze is drawn by your movement and her face lights up. She bounces in place and throws her arms out. She rushes past the man and has you wrapped up in a hug. It’s kind of ridiculous how much taller she is. You’re supposed to be the bigger sister.
“You’re here!” She rocks you in her embrace, “eek! I’m so excited.”
You croak out a breath as she squeezes the air out of you. She releases you with a giggle, apologising as she steps back. She wears a long tulle skirt and a beaded sweater. She’s beautiful. You could never pull something like that off, even twenty years ago.
“Oh, oh, you have to meet Curtis,” she snatches your hand and tugs you over the tall man as he turns to face you. Those same vague eyes fall upon you, “Curtis, this is my sister!”
“Curtis,” you repeat, “it’s nice to meet you.”
You look between them with a brittle smile. He offers his hand as he returns the sentiment. You shake, his palm rough and calloused. Adeline vibrates with joy.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says. 
“And I’ve heard nothing about you,” you grin at Adeline, “Addy?”
“I’m sorry,” she cups her cheeks guiltily, a sparkle on her ring finger. Your heart drops. “I didn’t know how to– the divorce and–”
“Ad,” you wisp and nearly sway on your feet, “what is that?”
You point to her hand and she quickly swipes it away, hiding it behind her back. “Nothing,” she gulps, the same way she did when she was a child and you caught her playing with your makeup.
There’s a tense silence as you gape in shock. Your mouth hangs open as you search for the words. Your eyes tinge with hot tears but you swallow them back.
“Congratulations,” you draw her into a hug, “really, I’m happy for you.”
She hugs you back, gentler than before. As you part, she looks nervous. Curtis clears his throat.
“Both of you,” you offer him a fragile smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little… shocked. Does mom know?”
Adeline nods as she clasps her hands together. You take a breath, and calm yourself. It’s not anything that she fears, you’re not jealous. You’re nervous, you’re afraid for her. It’s a big thing and she’s so young.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around to share the good news,” you say, “I’d love to help, if I can?”
“We got it,” Curtis insists.
“Oh,” you wince, “I didn’t mean– I could help with the planning or the engagement part–”
“We’re eloping,” he crosses his arms, “we’re not wedding people. Whole lot of money and fanfare for nothing.”
You nod, holding back your surprise as best you can. Nothing? It’s marriage. Even if they don’t want a big ceremony, it means something.
“I could help pay for the trip–”
“I got it,” he enunciates each word as he sidles over to sling his arm around your sister’s back. She looks away meekly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. She’s my sister, I just want to–”
“If you wanted to help, you would’ve been around the last two years,” he interjects.
Adeline’s head snaps around as she gives him a look. She nudges him with her elbow and whispers his name. He glares at you as you wilt. You’re not sure what you’ve done or said.
“Well, I think maybe me and Addy can talk about that,” you look at your sister, “when you have a chance, of course. I don’t want to spoil the holiday.”
“Adeline,” he corrects you, “Addy is so juvenile.”
The benefit of the doubt splinters as his tone cuts through you. You bite your tongue. Perhaps a twenty-one year old is juvenile to someone his age. You’ll talk to Addy about that too.
“Adeline,” you force a smile, “I… I’m going to go check on mom.” You show a palm in deference as you excuse yourself, “we’ll catch up later.”
As you back away, your eyes meet Curtis’. He watches you with a scowl. You are taken completely off balance. How could she end up with someone like him? She’s so sweet and he’s so scary…
Maybe she’s afraid too.
🎄
Christmas Eve ends much the same as you remember. The elders sit around the dining table to play cards as the kids, now adults, disperse in the living room or outside to entertain themselves. There’s a vague stench near the front door that no one will comment on but everyone knows what it is as it wafts in from outside.
You find yourself in limbo, once more caught in the in-between. You hole up in the kitchen, staring at the kettle as you wait for it to tremble. You won’t be missed if you take a tea up to your assigned room without a good night.
You lean on the counter and sigh, your finger brushing over the brim of the white porcelain cup with the hen on it. Strange how your mother’s house never seems to change but your life is inextricably altered. Your melancholy dims the cheery decor around you as you wallow away from the voices of the merry.
“There you are,” Adeline startles you as she sweeps in, “oh, is there any of the hot choccy left?”
You smile at her question. Everything about her reminds you of the time passed, of her newfound adulthood, yet she’s just the same little girl you always knew. You turn and pull the tin forward, “one packet left, just for you.”
You pull it out and face her again. She pulls out a mug from the cupboard and sets it down. The kettle hums between you as it heats up.
She exhales as you linger in a tense silence. You both have so much to say but neither of you know where to start. She finds her words first. Despite being younger, she was always the more outspoken.
“Do you like him?” She asks.
You poke your tongue into your cheek, “well, I’ve barely spoken to him. He seems to like you though.”
Her cheeks bulb as she grins bashfully, “I love him.”
Your chest seizes as you recognize that glimmer in her eye. She’s genuine, she feels that love so deeply it consumes her. It’s a naive love but real nonetheless. The sort you can’t see for what it is until it turns sour.
“I can tell,” you reach forward to fix the bow on her headband, “I’m happy for you. And my offer still stands. Maybe if it’s not the wedding, a honeymoon, or help with a house…” you wet your lips and steady your voice, “I only want you to be happy, Addy– Adeline.”
“Oh, he’s just… he’s like that. I can’t even call him Curt. He balances me out,” she beams.
“Yeah,” you say noncommittally.
“What?” Her voice dampens.
“Nothing,” you distract yourself with the variety of tea bags in the wooden chest next to the breadbox, “it’s… a lot. I’m surprised, is all. I just hope it goes well.”
She sniffs and lets her breath out long and heavy, “I’m sorry, I knew– he kinda said you’d probably be upset. After Benny–”
“This has nothing to do with him,” you narrow your eyes at her, a bag of chai in your hand, “this is about you. I only want what’s best for you.”
“He’s so good to me, you don’t have to worry.”
“I can worry, you’re my baby sister,” you insist, “and…” You shake your head, refusing to let the thought escape.
“And what?” She challenges, her pitch squeaking.
“Nothing.”
“No, tell me. I can always tell when you’re dying to say something. What?”
You shrug, “it’s just… how old is he?”
She scoffs, “wow.”
“What? I’m just asking.”
“It’s not like he’s old enough to be dad,” she pouts and crosses her arms.
“I know, I didn’t mean– Ad–Adeline, I just— you have time to figure it out. So I hope you’re not rushing this.”
“I’m not,” she snips, an uncharacteristic edge in her voice.
“I believe you… but what about him?”
She’s quiet as the kettle clicks, signalling the boiling point. You turn and drop the tea bag into your cup and pour the water. She tears open the packet and empties it into her own mug.
“Sorry,” you utter, “forget it. I… I don’t know him so maybe I need to get to know him. I’m here, Ad, and I will always be here for you.”
She nods and reaches for the kettle, not looking at you.
“Really, I trust you. I just worry about you,” you clap your hand on her shoulder, “you’re my lil teddy bear.”
She chuckles and looks down at you, your statement made absurd by the difference in your heights.
“And you’re the big grizzly, scaring off the wolves,” she kids back.
“Adeline,” the deep rumble thunders in ahead of the man, making both of you jump. You pull back your hand as Curtis strides in, “hey, I’ve been waiting on you.”
“Oh, sorry, baby,” she preens at him, “I was just–”
“You said we’d call my family after dinner,” he interrupts.
“I forgot,” she squeals, “oh, I’m so sorry.” She glances over at you, “I did promise.”
“Go on,” you try to smile but you’re not sure it’s showing.
She spins and flits over to Curtis. His eyes meet yours over her shoulder. His brows arch as his jaw is set in stone. A chill runs up your spine at the ice in his dark pupils. He grabs Adeline’s hand and drags her out.
You’re left in silence. You look over at the unmixed powder floating in the steaming water. You chew your lip as you stare at it. It’s just hot chocolate but there’s something about her abandoning something she loves so much for him. You try not to let your own failed marriage echo over her relationship, but it just feels off.
Well, Benny always did say you never did handle change very well.
🎄
The night before Christmas is rarely a restful one. Even without the childish belief in Saint Nick, you find yourself awake, anxious but not for presents. You keep replaying the night through your head; not the awkward interactions with aunts and uncles, or the silent judgment from the younger crowd, but Adeline and Curtis. Let it go, it’s none of your business.
You huff and roll on your back. Sleep eludes you. You sit up and bend over the side of the bed. You hold your head. You’ll sneak out the bathroom and hopefully an empty bladder will help.
You drag your feet across the floor, the legs of your pajama pants too long and trailing down your feet. You open the door and yawn as you enter the hall, only to collide with another unexpected barrier. Before you can react, you’re being forced back into the guestroom, stumbling as your fingers claw at the door frame and slip off.
A hand smothers your mouth, rough against your lips, as a foot kicks the door shut with a sharp click. You murmur into the calloused flesh as an arm loops around your back, trapping you as you’re urged further into the dark. You grasp at the cotton clinging to muscular shoulder. You’re kept off balance by your attacker’s certainty.
“I fucking heard you,” Curtis’ silty grit seeps into your ears, “you think I’d hurt her?” He snarls as he stops you at the foot of the bed. His shadow looms over you, breath puffing from his nostrils as he growls like a beast, “I wouldn’t, but I’ll hurt you.”
He pushes you back so your legs meet the side of the bed. You teeter and clasp your hand around his wrist, squeaking as he easily takes you down onto the mattress. He pins you, your legs hanging off the end, kicking weakly as his other hand curves around your throat.
He bends over you, straddling your chest heavily. You can’t breathe. Your heart pounds until your ears throb. Your temples pulse violently and your throat dries to a sandy scrape.
“Stay out of my fucking business,” he snarls, sliding down your body.
You whimper into his hand as he drops his knees off the bed, holding himself over you. He squeezes your neck, choking out your voice as he drags his hand from your mouth. He feels along your chest and flicks open the top button of your shirt. Your eyes wet in horror.
“Fucking show you…” he sneers as his breath scours over your flesh.
Another button undone as his lips tick along your shoulder. You squeak once more as he sinks his teeth into your flesh, biting a mean pinch until you spasm. The pain is unbearable. You feel the skin break as the hot flow of blood mingles with his spit.
He detaches only to bite you again. You can’t make a noise as his grip grows tighter on your neck. Even if you could scream, you’re too terrified and confused to understand what he’s doing. He’s like an animal tearing you apart. 
He lays a tortured path down your chest, lingering on the rise of flesh, gnawing into the tenderness there. His nails dig into your side, pushing up your shirt as he scratches hot lines into your skin. You push on his shoulders desperately but he’s too strong.
“Stop filling her head with your bitterness,” he growls before he bites into your nipple. 
You shake and beat on his head, shoulders, and back. You writhe and wrestle, trying to free yourself from him. He continues on, down your stomach, lingering on the soft flesh as his fingers hook into the elastic of your pants.
Your panic overflows with your tears. This can’t be happening. Why would he do this? He could talk to you? You would listen. You didn’t say anything wrong, you just want Adeline to be careful.
The very thought of your sister throttles you. Does he do this to her? Is this why she’s so defensive? The idea makes you sick to your stomach.
He lifts himself, his weight centering on your neck. You think he’ll crush your windpipe as he looms over you, snarling in the blackness. He pushes you higher onto the bed, forcing your legs open with his knees.
“Don’t make a fucking noise or I’ll make sure you can’t,” he threatens, giving a last squeeze before slowly slackening his grip.
You hold your breath. You believe him. Your body goes limp and you close your eyes. The bed shifts as he sits back on his heels. He pulls your pants down your thighs and you whine. He hushes you, a harsh tap across your cheek to get his point across.
You let your head drift to one side as you clench the blanket beneath you in tight fists. He keeps your legs trapped in your pants, knees bent as the fabric strains across his stomach. He tilts and movies around, his fingernails scratching the back of your thighs.
“Bet the husband couldn’t stand your fucking mouth,” he snarls as he pushes roughly against your cunt. “Didn’t know how to train you.” He jams two fingers into you, jolting your entire body, “dry bitch like you, he was probably thirsty as fuck.”
You seal your eyes tight, tears trickling through as a sob bubbles in your throat. You want to tell him to stop. You want to ask why. You want to scream. You can’t do anything as your body locks up.
He fingers you meanly, pulling his fingers out only to ram them in again, each time his knuckles hit you painfully. He keeps it up, growling with each intrusion as your muscles knots and pathetic noises rise from your throat.
He forces your legs higher, tearing his hand away from your pelvis. He adjusts his knees and you feel something else against your cunt. 
“No…” you whisper right as he ruts into you.
He splits you apart around him. You let out a holler and he quickly silences you with a crack of his knuckles. The back of his hand snaps off your cheek and turns your head to the other side. You gulp and sob, choking back any noise that threatens to bubble over.
He holds himself as deep as he can. He puts his large hands on your shoulders and pins you flat. He bucks, agony rippling up your spine. He snaps his hips, again and again, each time harder than the last.
“This is what you need. So fucking jealous, aren’t you? Dried up old bitch,” he pumps into you as his breath picks up, “why kind of sister are you, huh? Fucking your baby sister’s man. Fucking slut.”
You cover your face and heave. You’re drowned in pain and humiliation. You’re disgusted with him for doing this to you; and yourself for letting him.
“You don’t wanna hurt her, do you?” He growls, “that’s why this is happening… cause you wanna keep her safe, right?”
He puts his hand against your head and pushes it down into the bed, fucking you into the mattress. The frame pounds the wall, matching his furious rhythm. You reach to brace his thick arm, begging silently for it to end.
“Oh, it’ll be over soon,” he rasps as his hand once more frames your throat, “fuck, you got me ready to blow quicker than I thought.” He puffs, each thrust rattling your bones, “I love how weak you are.”
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discotitsposts · 5 months
Text
but daddy, i hate you
when spencer recieves a birthday card from his estranged father you help him deal with his feelings
gets a little steamy at the end so 18+ recommended
this is how i deal w my own feelings lol
a little background: set in season 13-14. right before spencer’s birthday. you’re spencer’s wife, you’ve been together around 7 years. You work at the bookstore that you and spencer own. (he helps you run it and is co owner, you run it together) also, Spencer and you live in the apartment above the store.
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It’s a beautiful Saturday morning and you’ve been going through boxes of new books for your store before you open for the day. It’s Spencer’s day off and he’s at the counter adding up the figures and making sure everything is in order for your busiest day of the week.
You hear a knock at the front door. “I’ll get it!” You yell to Spencer. You unlock the door and the mailman hands you your mail. “Thanks Jim, how’s Martha?” You ask him.
“She’s great, she’s dropping by later with cookies!”
“Cool! See you tomorrow!” You wave bye and start going through the mail.
“Hey, hon, there’s something for you from…” You stop when you read the name. William Reid. Spencer hadn’t seen nor heard from his father in almost 10 years. He was still very much angry about anything to do with his father. As were you. You couldn’t believe he hadn’t reached out at all.
“From who?” He asks, not looking up from the financial log. He puts his pencil down and reaches his hand out for you to hand him the envelope. You hesitate but hand it to him anyway.
You watch his face drop when he reads the name and address. Oh, how you wished to take the envelope out of his hands and hold him and tell him to forget that silly piece of paper forever. He peels the envelope open, careful not to touch the seal. He feels the dread fill his heart when he sees the contents. A card that says ‘Happy Birthday’ on the front, and ‘to a very special boy’ on the inside.
“What does he think I am? A fucking child?” He shouts, making you jump. “Sorry.” He apologizes and sighs.
“It’s alright, I’ll leave you alone with that.” You start to back away.
“No, don’t. Stay, please.” He begs with his beautiful eyes.
You nod and move closer. He begins reading the handwritten message on the inside of the card.
“Dear Spencer, Hope you’re not too upset with me, I am proud of you. We haven’t talked in a while, you haven’t called. You have the number. Don’t hesitate to reach out. How is Diana? Miss you. Happiest of Birthdays. Love, your father.” He reads it off, mocking every word.
“What the fuck! He hasn’t sent a card in 9 fucking years! Why now?” He raises his voice.
“I don’t..”
He cuts you off, “I’ll tell you why, because he’s either finally feeling bad about everything or he wants something. Well I won’t call him. I fucking hate him.”
“It’s a dick move to blame you for not reaching out, but honestly? Maybe you should, find out what he wants. If he honestly just wants to talk, it might be the closure you need. If he just wants something from you, you can tell him to fuck off. Obviously you don’t have to but maybe you should consider it. I know he was an asshole to you the last time, but you know I regretted not telling my father everything I wanted to say.” You’re watching your words, his father was a touchy subject.
He thinks for a minute and then sits back down and covers his face with his hands. “Maybe you’re right. You alright to open by yourself today? I think I’ll give him a call.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Good luck.”
He walks over to you and gives you a kiss and runs upstairs. He looked like a little kid who had just been given their favorite candy.
Later, when you’re closing the store for lunch break, you hear a loud crash from upstairs. You run upstairs, afraid Spencer had fallen and hurt himself. Worse. He was on the floor crying his eyes out. He had knocked the bookshelf over and he was surrounded by collapsed books.
You carefully step over the books to get to him.
“What happened?” You ask softly, so as to not startle him. He keeps crying into his hands but removes one to take your hand into his.
“I called, told him I received the card and I was willing to talk with him. I- I tried to…” His voice starts to trail off because he’s crying so hard he can’t speak. You rub his back reassuringly. “It’s ok, take your time.”
“I wanted to tell him, I’m married, and my life is going great. I didn’t even get to say anything. He stopped me and asked what card I was talking about. Turns out his new wife felt he should speak with his son, wrote the card and sent it to me. I should have known it wasn’t his handwriting.” He’s so tired from crying he just lays his head in your lap and stares.
“I’m so sorry love.” You say while running your fingers through his hair. Anger coursing through your veins.
“He hung up on me too.” His voice breaks as he says this. It has you fuming mad even more so. How could he do that? You could practically hear Spencer’s heart snapping in two.
He’s crushing your legs, so you convince him to stand up and have him go lay in bed with you. You cover him with the blankets and just hold him until he falls asleep.
You wake up a few hours later and he’s still asleep. You slyly grab his phone and write down William’s number. You take the paper, and your jacket downstairs.
You go to the store phone and as you’re dialing the number your stomach turns. Was this a good idea? After all I’m doing this for Spencer. You think as the line rings.
“Hello? Who is this?” A woman’s voice answers.
“Hello, is William Reid there?” Your voice quivers. You hear shuffling and the woman calls “Will! Phone!” in the background.
More shuffling. Then a man’s voice. “Who is this?” He says sternly.
“Hello, you don’t know me but I-“
“Then why are you calling me?”
“I’m your son’s wife, and I think we need to have a talk.”
“Spencer’s married?” He asks almost longingly. He sounded interested. Good.
“What kind of father are you? You don’t let him know you even want to be in his life and now all of a sudden you do? When he does finally reach out you hang up on him?”
“Ok that was because I went to go talk to my wife about why she sent my son a card from me.”
This goes on for a while, you yelling at Mr. Reid for his rude behavior.
The next morning you wake up to Spencer speaking to someone on the phone. Still groggy, you’re confused and mouth, ‘who is it?’
He holds up a finger to say hold on. He’s smiling. Maybe Prentiss is letting him take the next few days off!
“Alright bye! Love you!” He says into the phone, almost giddy. He hangs up and you tilt your head confused. He has the biggest grin on his adorable face.
“It was my dad. He was calling when I woke up. I can’t believe he reached out and he apologized! Can you believe it? He’s never really apologized to me before! We had a long talk, it was nice. Really nice.” He sits on the bed smiling.
“Is that so? Talk about a change of heart.” You smile to yourself knowing what you had done.
“You know what else he said?”
“What else did he say?”
“He said the little talking-to you gave him worked.” Spencer chuckles knowingly.
“I’m sorry, I should have told you.”
“No, I’m not upset. I actually am glad you did it. He wants to come and visit us. He wants to meet you too.” He pulls you into a big hug. “I love you. Thank you.” He kisses your neck.
“You’re welcome. I love you too.” You pull back and hold his face in your hand.
“Since you did me a favor, I think I owe you one. Lay back.” He gently spreads your legs apart and repays the favor to you. All day long.
the end 💞
it hurt me so bad to write spencer crying
to anyone who read this hope you enjoy! please don’t hesitate to leave feedback if you like this!
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morgana-larkin · 5 months
Note
hey another prompt; r is a teacher in Abbott for years now and has a specific styling of clothes. More of baggy loose clothes. As if her wardrobe are full off oversized pants and button up shirts and either a loafers or converse high lugged. And for some days, she dresses horribly, like more horribly than Janine and one time even managed to put on different shoes 🤦🏻‍♀️. Ava pokes fun of it and Barb and Janine even tried to help r out with dressing up, offering a shopping get together and sort but she declines says she's happy with what she wears and it's comfy. Mel joins teasing r once in a while tho and r just gonna roll her eyes playfully 'cause she's friends with her and knows that Mel was just a lil jealous that r can wear such comfy clothes tho it looks horrible. Then one day there will be like a school visit from.the district and Ava recquired all of the staff to wear formal or casual attire,ofc she makes fun of r again asking what horrible choices of clothes again is she gonna wear. Barb and Janine offered help and again she declines. Then the next day they're all in the staff room talking about it and when Mel is about to say something, r strode inside wearing nice clothes, even nicer than Ava and shocked to see she's wearing skirt and slaying the high heels without stuttering or wobbling. Mel, who's have her mouth agape and having a hard time taking her eyes off the teacher now became the new center of teasing as the teacher walks up to her and closed her mouth saying she might catch fly with a smirk on her face before leaving the break room to start her class.
Hello! This was cute and funny and I enjoyed writing this fic! I hope it turned out how you wanted. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: I’m getting through your prompts. I got 8 left and one extra. I also started the next chapter of worth it and got a Marilyn one shot idea. I also got an idea for a Melissa one shot. So lots in store in the future! Btw I’ve noticed that there’s not as many people who reads the Chessy ones, even though it’s the same actress🤔
Speechless
Warnings: jealous Mel 😏, smut, fluff
Words: 3.4K
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You walk into the break room with sweats and an oversized shirt on.
“Woah girl, I think you need a wardrobe change. You do realise it’s spring right?” Ava says as soon as you walk in and she sees your outfit.
You sit down at Melissa and Barb’s table and Melissa looks at you and smiles. “I have to agree with Ava, and I thought Janine’s outfits were bad, but yours are a whole other level.” She tells you and you roll your eyes.
“Heeyyy.” Janine complains when she heard what Melissa said and Melissa just smirks.
“Sweetheart, I was thinking that you, me and Janine can go to the thrift store and get some new clothes tomorrow morning.” Barb offers.
“Thanks, but I’m good. I like my clothes, might not be the most stylish but they’re comfortable.” You tell her.
“Girl, your clothes ain’t stylish at all. Like you got two patterns on, they don’t even match.” Ava says.
“Don’t you have some influencing to do? You know, anything besides your actual job?” You tell her and she leaves.
“Why do you have two different patterns on your outfit?” Melissa asks.
“First 2 things I grabbed.” You tell her with a shrug and she shakes her head at you. “You’re just jealous because I don’t care about what I look like and wear comfy clothes.” You tell her and she snorts.
“Hon, there’s comfy and there’s comfy disaster. Which category do you think you fall under?” She asks you and you huff.
“I still think you’re jealous.”
“Keep thinking that hon. Doesn’t make it any more true.” She says back to you. “By the way you realise you have 2 different shoes on right?” She asks you and you look at your feet.
“I do…now.” You tell her and she shakes her head and smiles.
On Monday you walk in with a similar outfit on and Melissa rolls her eyes at you when you sit down. Ava walks in not too long after.
“Listen up, dorks! Tomorrow the school district is coming over for a tour and I need everyone to look good. And I’m mostly talking to you, walking disaster.” She says and looks at you, you just roll your eyes. “Tomorrow can you at least wear something that matches.” She tells you.
“I’ll think about it.” You tell her and she leaves.
“Sweetheart, tonight Janine and I can go to a thrift store with you for an outfit for tomorrow.” Barb tells you and Janine nods her head.
“I’m good, I think I know what outfit to wear tomorrow.” You tell them and Barb looks at you sceptically.
“Are you sure?” She asks and you nod your head.
“Yep.”
“Can't wait to see your best mismatched outfit tomorrow.” Melissa teases you and you smile.
Tomorrow morning, everyone is in the break room. Melissa, Barb and Janine are discussing their outfits and then it lands on your outfit.
“What do you think she’s gonna wear today?” Janine asks as she’s getting coffee ready.
Barb shrugs, and when Melissa goes to speak, you waltz in and her eyes go wide and she freezes.
You walk in with heeled boots, black tights, a nice black skirt that ends mid thigh with a nice belt, and a blue blouse that you tucked into the skirt. Melissa’s eyes roam your entire body and you smile.
“Daammn girl. Where has all of this been for 2 years?” Ava says.
“Not needed.” You tell her and you see Melissa’s reaction. You walk over to go put your lunch box in the fridge and you stop at her. You put a hand out to her and place it under her chin, she looks up at you and grin. You then push her mouth closed. “You don’t want to catch flies.” You tease her and everyone hides a snicker. You put your lunchbox in the fridge and then you walk out to your classroom.
“What was that?” Janine asks as everyone stares at where you just were.
“Don’t know, but I approve.” Ava says.
“Even though she looked better than you?” Jacob says and Ava glares.
“Hey.” She tells him sternly. “She looks good today but not better than me, thank you very much.” Ava says, she flips her hair and then walks out.
Melissa is still stunned, she knew you were beautiful underneath all those baggy clothes, and you had a pretty face, but that shocked her. You were stunning and she doesn’t know how to react.
“Melissa?” Barb says and snaps her fingers at her and Melissa jumps and looks at her.
“What?!?” She asks and everyone snickers.
“You ok? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” Barb says.
“Or she got a crush.” Jacob adds and Melissa whips her head around to him.
“I do not have a crush on her. Just didn’t expect her to look like that today.” She tells him and then turns back around.
Everyone drops it, knowing that Melissa won’t budge, but they don’t forget it.
At lunch, you’re in the break room getting your coffee ready when Melissa walks in. Normally you say hi to her but it seems a teacher is talking to you today. Melissa sees you and the teacher talking and when she gets closer she hears the conversation and realises the teacher is flirting with you. Most of the staff know you’re gay as you’re open about it, and it seems another gay teacher has taken an interest in you today. Melissa doesn’t like it to be honest. She liked it better when you didn’t catch anyone’s eye except hers. She sits down with a sigh and you glance around.
“Oh hi Melissa, didn’t hear you come in.” You tell her with a smile.
“Ya I can see that.” She tells you, a bit snippy and you look at her confused. You bring your attention back on the teacher and she continues whatever she was talking about with you. Melissa is sulking on her phone while glancing at you and the teacher talking, who moved from the coffee machine to the couch. Barb keeps glancing at Melissa, knowing she’s jealous of the teacher flirting with you.
Everyone else seems to be in conversation but that all comes to a halt when they hear the other teacher ask you out and they all spare a glance at Melissa. Melissa freezes and all colour drains from her face. Not wanting to hear your answer, she grabs her things and walks out.
You hear the teacher ask you out and you freeze, you hear the room go silent for some reason and then you see Melissa get up and leave. You look over at everyone else and they all seem to be given a worried look at where Melissa was just standing.
“I’m flattered but no, sorry.” You tell the teacher.
“Are you sure?” She asks again with a smile.
“Ya, I’m interested in someone else.” You tell her and then get up and you walk to Barb. “Is Melissa ok?” You ask her and she shrugs.
“I don’t know dear. Didn’t have time to ask her. Maybe you can go check on her.” She tells you and you nod your head then walk out of the break room.
“This is getting interesting.” Jacob says and everyone agrees.
“Did you see her rocking those heels though, and she didn’t even stumble once today.” Janine says and Jacob looks at her interested in the topic.
“I did ya. She looks good in them too.” He adds.
You walk down the hall to Melissa’s classroom and you knock them open her door. You peak in and catch the tail end of Melissa’s pout before she goes to a neutral face and looks at the door.
“Hey Melissa.” You say to her.
“Hey hon.” She says to you and forces a smile.
“Is it safe to come in?” You ask her and she nods. You open the door more and walk in and then close the door behind you. “Just wanted to check if you were ok. Saw you almost storming out and Barb didn’t know if you were ok either. She suggested I come to make sure you’re alright.” You tell her and she sighs.
Of course Barb told you to come talk to her. She’s been trying to get her to admit her feelings for you for a few months now.
“Ya I’m alright, thanks for asking.” She tells you and you don’t look convinced in the slightest.
“Wanna tell me that while looking at me?” You ask her while she taps a pen on her desk.
“Why should I do that?” She asks and then looks up at you.
“Because it would seem more convincing then the lame ass attempt you already did.” You tell her and she snorts. She makes no attempt at saying it to you though and that worries you a bit. Melissa has never been able to lie to you while looking at you so the fact that she’s not telling you she’s alright while looking at you, it worries you.
You go and grab one of the students chairs and bring it over to sit beside her desk.
“What’s wrong?” You ask her and she looks at you then looks at her pen in her hands.
“Nothing.” She says and you place a finger under her chin and get her to look at you.
“What’s wrong?” You ask her again and she can’t concentrate. All she focuses on is your hand under her chin and she gulps. “I know something is bothering you, so what is it?” You gently push.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She tells you while looking at you and you nod.
“Are you sure? Cause I’m a great listener.” You tell her with a smile and she smiles back at you.
“Ya I’m sure.” She tells you and you nod.
“Alright well if you change your mind then you know where to find me.” You tell her and you put the chair back and then leave.
As you exit her classroom you bump into a teacher and you apologise to them.
“Y/n? Wow, I almost didn’t recognise you. You look pretty!” The teacher says to you and you smile and thank them. Melissa sees the interaction and presses down on the desk with her pen and the tip of the pen almost breaks.
At the end of the day, you’re all helping your students get ready to leave. You’re zipping up a sweater for one of them and Melissa sees a parent checking you out as your cleavage is showing to them at that angle. You then stand up and tell the student that he’s ready to go. The mom of the student starts a conversation with you and she laughs at whatever you said. Melissa glares the entire time. When all of hers and your students leave, she walks over to you to where the mom is still in conversation with you and Melissa grabs your arm.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt but I need to borrow y/n.” She says and pulls you with her back to her classroom.
“Melissa, what’s going on?” You ask her as she closes the door and walks over to you. “Why did you pull me away from the conversation with the pa-” You don’t get to finish your sentence as her lips on yours interrupt you. She pulls back a couple seconds later and you stare at her with wide eyes.
“That’s what’s going on.” She tells you. “I’m attracted to you. I have been for a few months now. I wasn’t planning on acting on it but then you get all this attention today because of your outfit and I just can’t take it.” She tells you and you are just staring like she was this morning.
“You like me?” You tell her and she sighs.
“Ya hon, I do. That’s why I walked out when that teacher asked you out.” She tells you.
“Melissa, for the record, I turned her offer down.” You say and she looks at you.
“Why?” She asks and you roll your eyes at her.
“Because, it’s hard to show interest in someone when you’re interested in someone else.” You tell her and she looks confused.
“You’re interested in someone else?” She asks and you nod. “W-who?”
“You.” You tell her and her breathe hitches.
“Me?” She asks you and you nod.
“I tried flirting with you a few months ago but you didn’t seem to show any interest back so I stopped.” You tell her. She stares at you for a few seconds then leans forward and captures your lips on hers again. This time she doesn’t pull back and you kiss her back. She pulls your body more to hers and you gasp. Melissa takes the opportunity and slips her tongue in your mouth. You back up as Melissa is starting to push a lot and you end up getting pinned between her and her desk. She lifts you up to sit on her desk and she moves in between your legs. She trails down to your neck and sucks on a sensitive spot and you moan.
She sneaks her hands under you shirt and trails them up until they land on your bra. You aren’t stopping her so she takes that as permission to unclip your bra and again, you don’t stop her. She cups your breasts while still sucking on your neck and you buck your hips. She starts moving her hands in a circular motion and you hum. She then rubs both your nipples and you buck your hips and gasp. “Mel-Melissa, please.” You start to beg and she smirks.
“Begging already? I’ve barely touched you.” She teases and you whine. She takes pity on you and pulls your tights and underwear down and places her hand on your pussy. You moan and she kisses you to keep you quiet. She rubs a finger through your folds and smirks when she feels how wet you already are. “Oh baby, you’re already soaking and I barely touched you. What got you so turned on?” She asks and you can barely think right now. “If you answer then I’ll stick a finger in you.” She whispers next to your ear.
“You.” You stutter out.
“Me? But I barely touched you.” She says and you whine.
“Y-your shirt and y-your k-kisses.” You stutter out and she looks confused and looks down at her shirt. She sees it’s just a normal shirt that she’s worn before and then it clicks.
“Oh, were you staring at my chest today?” She teases you and you nod. “Hmm, good girl.” She tells you with a smirk. She kisses you and then as promised, sticks a finger in your entrance. You gasp into the kiss. She slides her finger in and out and feels your hands wandering on her shirt. She grabs one of your hands and guides it under her shirt and on her bra. Your other hand follows and then she unclips her bra and you slightly pull your hands back. She puts one of your hands on her breast and once again, your other hand follows. You start playing with her breasts and you both moan. She then places one of her legs on the other side of yours and she starts grinding on your thigh while fingering you.
She slides another finger in and you gasp. The one hand that’s not fingering you she places on your back and pushes you to her a bit more. She then suddenly pulls out and pulls away from your lips, you go to complain but then covers your mouth with her hand. You’re in shock but then you hear Barb knocking on her door and calling her name. You both quickly get dressed and then Melissa opens her door while you lean against her desk.
“Hey Barb what’s up?” She asks as casually as she can.
“Nothing just… oh hi y/n.” She says when she sees you and then notices a hickey on your neck that wasn’t there at lunch. She then really looks at Melissa and sees smudged lip gloss and puts 2 and 2 together.
“Hey Barb, I was just talking to Melissa.” You say and Barb smiles.
“Ya I bet. Might want to cover up your hickey and fix your lip gloss.” She says and then walks away. “Good night you two.” She yells and Melissa is blushing.
She turns back to you and walks towards you with a smirk. “Come on, I want to finish you in my car.” She says and grabs your hand and pulls you all the way to her car. She unlocks it and she pushes you into the backseat and climbs on top of you. She closes the door and then immediately takes your top off.
“Melissa what if someone sees.” You ask her and cover yourself with your arms.
“Relax, no other cars in the parking lot except ours.” She tells you and then grabs your hands and gets you to uncover yourself. She then unclips your bra and looks at you. “I knew you had a beautiful body underneath all those baggy clothes.” She says softly and you smile. “Such a shame you hide it, you should be showing it off.” She tells you and you blush.
“When I don’t cover it, then I get attention like I did today.” You tell her and she hums.
“That’s alright if you cover up, that means I don’t have to punch anyone. More for me.” She says and wraps her mouth around a nipple. You moan at her touch and tilt your head back. She goes to the other nipple and you buck your hips. She pulls back and then takes her shirt and bra off.
“Wow.” You say as you look at her. She grabs your chin.
“Speechless are we?” She teases and you nod. You then lean forward and take the nippe in your mouth and she gasps. She holds the sides of the front seats to stabilise herself as you pleasure her breasts with your amazing tongue and mouth. When you pull back she immediately pulls your skirt, tights and underwear down to your ankles. She spreads your legs a bit and looks at you bare before her and smiles. She then goes and rubs your clit and you buck your hips. She rubs it for a few seconds then trails down and sees you're very wet again. She then slides two fingers in immediately and you gasp. You try and spread your legs more but your tights and skirt are preventing you. Melissa sees your struggle and without pulling her fingers out or stopping, she takes your boots off then takes off your clothes. You then immediately spread your legs and Melissa is enjoying the view. She then takes her pants and underwear off then grinds your leg again. Melissa seems to be closer to an orgasm than you are and then she thinks that maybe you only come with clitoral stimulation, so she brings her thumb to your clit. You gasp and in no time you catch up to Melissa and you come a few seconds before she does.
You two stay as you are and catch your breath, she slowly pulls out of you. You look at Melissa and smile at her.
“See something you like hon?” She asks and you smile wider.
“Ya I do actually.” You tell her and you cup her cheek. “You.” You tell her and she smiles back at you.
She hums and leans in closer to you, her breasts pressed up against you and your breathing speeds up. “How about I take you to my place, I cook you dinner and then I don’t keep my hands to myself for the rest of the evening?” She asks and you smile at her.
“I like the sound of that.” And she smiles and winks at you.
You both get dressed and she does exactly what she suggested, although she had trouble keeping her hands to herself the entire time, not just after dinner.
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witchwrestler · 6 months
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I Eat Boys
warnings // Jason being a creep but that's literally it
summary: 10 things I hate about you inspired little blurb bc I got bored
note: reblogs are appreciated and encouraged!! if you like this i will gladly do another part, this was v fun to write !!!
part 2
☆ 🎸 ☆
You'd always been what most in the small shoebox town of hawkins would call a "feminist bitch", and according to most of the men who ask you out as a joke in the hallways, you've been more rageful than usual. You had one boyfriend during your high-school career thus far. It was freshman year and the product of being told that if a boy was being mean to you, surely that means he likes you. It ended after four months, after his failed attempt at getting in your pants.
It took you much longer than you'd like to admit to heal from that fiasco, and when you had finally declared yourself happy again, you cut your hair short, bought a pair of doc martens you'd always wanted and decided you would swear men off for a while. Not to say they were even approaching you, it seems the moment you had grown into yourself and stopped caring, men wanted nothing to do with you.
That is, until a very cold and rainy saturday. You had gone to the record store across from family video to buy the new metallica 'master of puppets'. As per usual the music blaring from your beat up jeep was some form of loud aggressive feminist punk rock, and as you turned into the parking lot, what seemed like the entire hawkins cheer team parked next to you. Too fast you thought, their happy Duran Duran playing selves turned into four cheerleaders looking at you like you were deranged. You scowled back at them and walked into the record store.
You spotted the metallica immediately and walked over to the metal section.
Only you weren't the only one grabbing the cassette, right as you very nearly got your hands on it, a pair of silver-clad fingers snatched it. You looked up, shooting a glare at him. He had long curly brown hair, the sickest dio tour shirt on, a guitar pick hanging on a chain around his neck and chains hanging from his jeans. This is the first time you had felt almost upstaged by a man, you think to yourself before speaking. "I really thought I was the only one who liked metal in this shitty town, do I have competition now?" You say, leaning forward over the display separating you. He looked at you a moment, a smile on his face, "it would seem you do" you smile back at him, and grab another cassette from in front of you before walking to the front to pay.
As you leave you turn back around, finding him still standing at the metal section, his eyes meeting yours again. "I am jealous as hell of that dio shirt, by the way." You say, walking out to your car.
The rain had stopped but it was still chilly outside, so you pulled your brown leather jacket closer to keep warm. You hadn't noticed that someone was following behind you until they whistled at you. You turned on your heel, immediately angry. Jason carver and his raging case of dickface disease stood before you, walking towards you like he was entitled to you or something.
" Carver, if you don't walk away right now, I'll kick your sorry ass," you say, backing slowly towards your car and crossing your arms. "A girl? kick my ass? keep dreaming, hon." He says, inching towards you. "Look, I wouldn't mind a reason to hit you, but I doubt you're gonna wanna go tell your fucking goon squad that you got your ass beat by a woman, huh?" You say, nothing but a blank expression on your face. He gets too close for comfort, a hand brushing your thigh. "so you're a feisty one, hm?" he says, his hand now squeezing your thigh, your fist clenching at his touch. You let out a sarcastic laugh just to say, "Carver, I fucking eat boys like you for breakfast. You're all talk, no bite." a smirk paints his face as he pushes you onto the door of your car, "isn't that why you went to juvie, freak?" he says. Clearly, he thought that the freak bit would cut deep, but you weren't about to let someone like him get under your skin.
"Yeah." That wasn't true. You have never even been near a juvenile detention center. But your last straw had been pulled, and you would rather he be scared of you than have him actually figure you out. "And pathetic, mysoginistic, disrespectful boys like you were my favorite kind." You say, pushing him off of you. His eyes got big with fear, scrambling away as he ran to his car, eyes flicking to you nervously. You let out a sigh of relief "fucking, men." you mumbled under your breath, finishing the walk to your car.
Little did you know, that head of curly hair and hands clad with silver, who grabbed the same album as you, had tried to catch up to you after you complimented his shirt. You hadn't noticed him watch your little scramble. And you hadn't noticed the smirk that grew on his face as he saw you scare carver off. And you didn't know that he had regretted not asking your name, and that now he feared he might never know it.
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crappymixtape · 2 years
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laugh like lovers, kiss like friends
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you're getting married – steve’s in town for the ceremony and it dredges up old memories, ones you thought you'd forgotten, but you have to decide, will you say ‘i do’ or will your heart realize what you really want has been there all along?  | (  9.1k, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )
L A U G H L I K E L O V E R S, K I S S L I K E F R I E N D S 🎶 cold water swimming, quiet houses
“How about these, dear? Eucalyptus pairs lovely with peonies. Besides, wildflowers for a wedding? In all my years as a planner I’ve never seen it. No one does it. It's just tacky, hon.”
Twirling the stem of a daisy between your fingers you bit the inside of your cheek, only half hearing the woman standing next to you among all the buckets and vases of flowers in the greenhouse.
Wildflowers for a wedding? No one does it.
Pulling your eyes off the daisy you forced a smile, “Of course, I’m sorry. Peonies sound great.”
“Wonderful, I’ll add it to the day-of agenda and make sure the florist knows you’ve made up your mind. It’s an excellent choice, one your fiance will be happy with I’m sure.”
Your fiance.
Sam proposed less than a month ago in the kitchen of your little downtown Indianapolis apartment with his grandmother’s ring. A huge, gaudy diamond that made your hands look even smaller than they already were and after you’d called your mom the news had spread like wildfire.
Sam didn’t want to wait, he probably would’ve dragged you down to the courthouse if it hadn’t been for his parents and your mom, but it meant things were moving at the speed of light and you were running to catch up.
When he’d looked up at you, ring box outstretched, you knew what your first thought should’ve been. Tears and overwhelming joy and a resounding Yes! but none of it came. Instead your first thought had been long stalks of grass. The glittering turquoise water of the quarry. Skunky weed and wildflowers and hot, sticky Indiana summers.
Steve.
“Babe, you gotta call the bakery back, the lady doesn’t get it. Idiot,” Sam’s voice cut through into your thoughts and you blinked them away.
“What?”
“The cake? She’s not getting it. I told her we wanted vanilla, like actual vanilla not that imitation shit.”
“Julie’s not an idiot,” your tone grew clipped, short, brow furrowing as you folded your arms across your chest. Julie had lived in Hawkins since before your family moved in across the street from her. The only, and best, bakery in town with the sweetest baker known to man. Julie was a saint.
“Okay, well then you try and explain it to her. I’m done,” Sam huffed, pinching his nose between his fingers and shaking his head. “I’m gonna go get food with my mom. Can’t wait until this is all over,” he grumbled under his breath. “I’ll see you back at the house," and with that he hastily pressed a kiss to your forehead before stalking out of the greenhouse.
“Not really a man’s arena is it,” the planner said giving you an overly sweet smile, “Better to let us take care of it, hm?”
“I guess,” you couldn’t bear to force another smile, “Thanks for your help, but I need to go get ready for tonight. Call me if anything else comes up.”
“On it and don’t you worry, only a few more days. Just think! The happiest day of your life!”
The happiest day of your life.
It sure as hell didn’t didn’t it feel like it.
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The high vaulted ceilings in your parents’ living room looked the same as they had when you lived there. Same ugly, bumpy texture and yellowed color, now with a few too-high cobwebs just out of reach hanging in the corners.
The buzz of conversation filling the air around you was incessant, blending and blurring together and making you feel like you were far away. Like you were a spectator and not the bride-to-be and your chest squeezed with nerves. There were so many people packed into the house and as guests hurled their questions at you, your anxiety only grew.
“Oh, sweetie you look amazing! You’ll be a beautiful bride!” “Tell me again, where are you going for your honeymoon?” “Sam is such a catch, does he have any available friends? Just kidding! But seriously?” “Oh my god, look at that ring! He must really love you.”
One of Sam’s cousins had been hammering you with question after question, barely giving you any room to reply and you felt like you were drowning in it. The walls of the living room suddenly felt like they were closing in on you, making you feel claustrophobic and you needed air. Outside. Anything other than this. “Is-is it warm in here?” you stuttered, pulling at the collar of your dress.
“No? What d’you mean–”
“I’m sorry, excuse me,” you didn’t wait for her to finish and instead moved as quickly as you could through the crowd, trying not to project your panic with a fake smile plastered on your lips until you reached the slider door.
“Honey!” your stomach sank. Your mom. “Your aunt and uncle just got here, you need to say hello!”
Looking over your shoulder she was standing with her hands on her hips, brow furrowed in frustration, watching as your fingers gripped the handle of the patio door.
“I know,” your voice was edged with irritation and you bit your tongue. “Please? I just need some air for a minute. I’ll be right back,” and you could tell she didn’t like your answer, but she didn’t fight you on it as you slipped outside, all the noise and voices and music blunted and sliced in half as you shut the door behind you.
Leaning back against the glass, eyes closed, you pulled in a breath of air and let it out slowly. Trying, telling, yourself you had to keep it together. Just a minute out here and you’d feel right as rain. Ready to dive back in.
The happiest day of your life.
“Shouldn’t you be inside?”
Your eyes flew open, an all-too-familiar voice making your heart leap into your throat.
He was sitting on the edge of one of the pool loungers like it was nothing, a few locks of stray hair falling into his eyes, all warm honey and burnt caramel and the boyish grin he was giving you made you feel dizzy. Like it always did.
“I’ve been inside for like two hours,” you shot back, but you couldn’t ever bring yourself to really sound mad at him.
At Steve.
“Well don't sound like you’re having too much fun. Not like you’re getting married in three days or anything,” he teased, scooting over on the lounger, a silent invitation for you to sit next to him and you took it.
“Don’t remind me–” fell out, “–what I mean is–it's just–just planning everything has been...a lot.”
Steve caught your slip up, but didn’t call it out, only humming in reply as he threaded a hand through his hair, watching as you settled down next to him. “I’m about a month late, but congrats,” he offered with a small smile before taking a drink from his beer.
“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” you replied lamely, cheeks flushing when he looked over at you. You were entirely too sober for this. “Here, gimme that,” reaching over you took the beer from his hand, chugging half of it in one go and pulling a laugh out of Steve.
“Jesus,” Steve laughed, amused at you, a sound you’d missed so very much. “Take it easy,” he chided gently, but it was all warm and sticky sweet like popsicles on a hot day and when you gave it back he shook his head.
Silence lingered between you for a moment, the static sound of the pool filter trickling in the background, and your thoughts drifted back to a moment a few years ago. Up in your room while summer spun by outside. The last time he'd been over here. Steve.
Bobbing along to the music coming from your stereo, you crammed the last of your photos into one of the empty supply boxes Steve had brought over from Family Video.
“I wanted to be with you alone and talk about the weather, but traditions I can trace against the child in your face won't escape my attention,” you sang a little off key, giving your shoulders a little shimmy as you turned to grab the pile of books on your bed.
“You keep your distance via the system of touch and gentle persuasion. I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much?” Steve sang back, browed knitted together in dedication to the bit, hips swaying as he wiped down your dresser. Turning with the roll of paper towels in his hand he held it out to you as the chorus neared, both of you singing horribly.
“Oh, you're wasting my time, you're just, just, just wasting time!”
“God, who’s gonna sing shitty with me when you’re not around?” Steve tossed the roll onto your bed, leaning back against the drawers behind him.
“Robin sucks more than I do,” you shot back, and Steve mumbled in agreement.
“Yeah, but she hates Tears for Fears,” there was a slight whine in his voice that made you look up at him over your box and grin.
“Well then save it for me when I’m back on Christmas break.”
Steve gave you a pout and folded his arms over his chest, “That’s like, a fucking eon from now.”
“It’s not that long,” you moved around the other side of your bed to sit in front of him, a small pause swallowing you both into silence.
Clearing your throat you dropped your gaze down your shoes, kicking them in time with the song still playing in the background. You glanced over at Steve’s dirty, beat up Blazers and smiled. “I guess I’ll miss you,” you teased, looking back up at him and he gave you a smile, but it softened the longer he looked at you.
“I know I’ll miss you,” he said, and you knew he meant it, and your heart fluttered in your chest like a bird caught in a cage as the air around you grew thick with words unsaid, but implied. Steve took a step away from the dresser, standing in the V of your legs, hand moving to lift your chin up with his thumb and forefinger.
You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, meeting his gaze, and everything felt hazy. “Miss you too, Stevie,” you murmured and he leaned down slowly. Tilting your chin ever so gently he hesitated for just a second before pressing his lips against yours. Your room and half-packed boxes and everything fell away in the warm, glittering feeling of Steve and summer and the last of the light falling through your window washed you both in gold like it wanted to hold you in that moment forever.
“How long are you in town for?” your voice broke the silence between you and Steve took another drink of his beer.
“Just til the day after the wedding, need to get back to things,” he said softly, stealing a look at you out of the corner of his eye, smiling at the way your nose scrunched up when you were thinking, “You look really pretty by the way.”
Your cheeks warmed and you stole a look at him too, “You have to say that.”
“No I don’t. I do on your wedding day, but this is a freebie,” he teased, trying to make it seem lighter than it was, but you both knew the weight it carried.
“Babe, c’mon. You gotta get back inside. It’s rude. People are looking for you,” the sudden sound of Sam’s voice sliced your moment in two and Steve sat up straight, leaning away from you as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Alright, I just needed some air,” your voice sounded tired and Steve caught the look in your eyes as you roughed your hands over your face, “I’m coming.”
“Harrington,” Sam sniped, and Steve gave him a big smile, knowing just how much the other man hated finding the two of you sitting together.
“Sammy,” Steve teased and you had to bite back a laugh, hiding it in a cough, but Sam knew.
“I fuckin’ hate that,” Sam gave Steve a look and he just smiled.
“I think it’s cute,” you chimed in, but knew you should’ve kept it to yourself when Sam glared daggers at you.
“Inside,” he said, patience short, and you felt your own run out as you glared right back, but moved toward the slider door anyway.
“I’ll see you,” you told Steve and just before you slipped back into the chaos, he gave you a look. The same one you remembered from that hot summer evening in your room as you packed your life into boxes. A look that put fire to the embers lying dormant in your chest and something you thought had been extinguished flickered back to life.
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“Sam, hurry up, we’re going to be late!”
“I’m trying. You know how much I hate being outside. These stupid boots are too tight and–” Sam grunted, leaning over to tug at his socks, “–these are itchy as hell.”
“You don’t have to wear them, but your legs are gonna get bit up and scratched on the trail,” you shook your head, yanking your own worn-in boots onto your feet.
“Bit? Are you kidding me?”
“What? It’s summer, there are a ton of bugs out right now.”
Sam sucked in a breath and put his face in his hands, standing on the other side of the bed from you. He’d agreed to it at first, thought maybe it might be a quaint little jaunt through a park, but when he realized it was an actual hike up the bluff just outside Hawkins – in nature – he’d thrown a fit.
It was one of your favorite places, a special piece of home, and you were going to go with or without him.
“Just stay home, Sam. It’s fine,” you huffed, kicking your suitcase shut, tugging your ponytail through the back of your baseball cap.
“You know what? Maybe I will. This whole place is too much. Jason’ll get beers with me,” he growled under his breath, yanking his boots off to get to his socks, “Enjoy your hike.”
“Great, thanks, will do,” you almost left the room without saying goodbye, but something made you hesitate and you paused for a second at the door, eyes squeezed shut. Why was everything so damn hard? This was supposed to be easy.
The happiest day of your life.
Resigned, you turned around and retraced the few steps over to Sam. “I’ll see you when we’re back,” you muttered, bending down and brushing a hasty kiss to his cheek.
“See you,” he didn’t meet your gaze, instead scowling at the ground and it was the push you needed to leave, the weight on your shoulders lifting as you hurried down the stairs and out the door.
The sun was just coming up, painting the sky cotton candy pinks and blurred warm tangerines. You could feel the heat already and as you got out of your car at the bluff the feeling of the sun on your bare legs pulled a heavy sigh from your lungs. Breathing out the stress and pressure of the last few days and you closed your eyes for a minute, leaning against the warmth of your car.
It would be okay. Today was for you. This was for you.
Opening them again you heard another car rumbling up the dirt road behind you and when you turned around you grinned so big your cheeks started to hurt.
“OH MY GOD,” Robin squealed. She practically leapt out of the backseat of Steve’s BMW and ran over to you, gathering you up in her arms and squeezing tight. “What the hell! You look amazing! Shit. Is this like, pre-wedding glow or did you stop eating meat or something? I hear it’s like, totally bad for your skin.”
“Robin,” Steve shook his head as he shut his car door before walking around to get Robin’s too.
“What? All legitimate questions! Right, Eds?” she shot back.
“I mean, not the first thing I’d ask,” Eddie replied with a grin, but you could hear the softness of him behind it.
“Alright, well I wouldn’t expect you to know anyway. Weddings are like a foreign language to you plebs,” Robin said simply, clicking her fanny pack around her waist.
“Hey, that’s not fair, I know enough,” Steve chimed in, propping a hand on his hip and giving Robin a look.
“Children, not about us today!” Eddie chided, following after Robin and gathering you up into one of his bear hugs. “Hi, sweetheart,” he held you out at arm’s length and gave you a warm Eddie smile.
“Hi,” you grinned back, the happiest you’d been in days just listening to the comforting sound of your friends bickering, “Missed you.”
“Mmm, you too,” Eddie hummed, shooting a quick glance over at Steve. “Some of us more than others,” he said a bit quieter, bringing his eyes back to you and you felt your cheeks flush.
“Okay, hike?” you deflected, then accusingly looked back at Eddie, “You’re not still smoking are you?”
“Only on Wednesdays,” he flipped back casually, but you knew he was full of shit.
“Munson, you’re a horrible liar,” Steve drawled, rolling his eyes, starting the walk to the edge of the bluff. “Nance and Jonathan are already at the top,” he said over his shoulder, “Jonathan wanted to get a time lapse of the sunrise.”
“Oh, sick,” Eddie clapped his hands, “I gotta see it. C’mon, Buckley get with it.” He waved an arm forward, pulling Robin into a jog and you shook your head with a soft laugh as you caught up with Steve. Starting up the bluff two by two.
The sounds of everything coming to life swirled around the four of you as you walked. The buzz of the insects, birds chirping their morning songs and tractors rumbling to life in the fields alongside the bluff.
Home.
“God, the last time we were up here was so Dustin could talk to Suzie,” Steve half-laughed, Eddie and Robin walking just ahead of you. You grinned at the memory.
“Oh no,” you shook your head, “They might be worse than we are at singing.”
“Didn’t think it was possible to be honest,” he teased gently, smiling over at you, looking for a long moment before dropping his gaze back down to his feet.
You could feel his eyes on you and the warmth of it filled you up and spilled over at the edges, making you happier than you’d been in a long time and a tiny pinch of guilt squeezed in your chest.
“Thanks for getting up so early,” you exhaled, breaths getting heavier as the incline of the bluff steepened, Steve pulling in a breath next to you.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ve slept in since high school,” he waved you off, “Managing a store’s got me up ass early every day. Besides, wouldn’t miss it.” Arms swinging at your sides, his fingers brushed against yours as you walked and the embers in your chest glowed bright.
“Yeah,” you sighed, wishing that for once Sam had come along. That he’d put even a little bit of effort into your interests. That he’d care even a fraction of what Steve cared and the embers flickered again with your frustration.
“You two are slow as hell!” Eddie teased and when you looked up you saw he and Robin had been moving much faster than you and Steve. “I’m smoking a victory cigarette at the top!” he yelled and Robin smacked him, both of them dissolving into laughter.
“C’mon, that asshole doesn’t need another cigarette,” Steve’s brow furrowed in frustration and he picked up the pace, pulling you along with him as he lengthened his stride.
Jonathan and Nancy were waiting for the four of you at the top and, much to Eddie’s dismay, Robin beat him by a couple of feet, stealing his cigarettes and jamming them into her fanny pack as punishment.
Jonathan had asked Nancy to marry him two years ago now, Christmas eve under the tree at the farm and they’d eloped that spring there on top of the bluff. It had been a small, but sweet ceremony, with only family and close friends. Perfectly Nance and Jonathan and as you thought back on it your stomach twisted with a longing feeling.
As you sat scattered among the long grass in pairs – Eddie and Robin, Nancy and Jonathan, you and Steve – a breeze picked up and blew through the wildflowers around you, taking then with it and you watched as the buttercups danced in the wind.
You wanted wildflowers. Not peonies and eucalyptus.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Steve’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over at him, sat close enough to you in the grass that you could see all the little moles and freckles that dotted down the line of his jaw, his neck, the exposed skin along the top of his shirt.
“Flowers,” fell out and you didn’t shy away from him, meeting his gaze.
“Flowers?” he asked, brow knitting together in confusion.
“Stupid flowers. And cake. And nature and socks and–”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. What are you talking about?” Steve scooted closer to you, your legs pressing together as you sat facing each other and he put a hand on your knee.
Your throat tightened and you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you willed them away. Not here. You didn’t mean it.
“Hey,” he said softer, hand lifting from your knee to press into yours and you blinked hastily, pulling in a breath to steady yourself.
“I don’t know,” you started, closing your eyes for a minute, trying to ground yourself. “I just–I thought this would be easier. We’re supposed to be in love and planning this should be fun, but it sucks and he–” catching yourself you looked back up at Steve and felt him squeeze your hand. “I’m sorry, it’s just stress. I shouldn’t–”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Steve said, thumb brushing over the bump of your knuckles, soft and warm and reassuring.
He was looking at you again like he had at the welcome party, like you were the only thing that existed in that moment and you felt yourself moving closer, your legs hovering over his with the lack of space.
“I wish Sam would look at me like that,” you whispered and Steve’s lips parted in surprise, anticipation grabbing hold of both of you as the wind picked up again.
“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t,” Steve whispered back, leaning closer still and you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek. The scent of his shampoo and spearmint gum and cedar and wildflowers flooding your brain and making everything feel hazy. His eyes all bright amber and flecks of gold in the sun. Closer and closer and closer and–
“Harrington! You left the food in the car!”
Leaning back from each other you felt the tension shatter with the bark of Eddie’s voice and you leapt to your feet.
“God, what a dingus,” Robin grumbled, “Now we gotta go back down.”
“Hey,” Steve scrambled to his feet ignoring them, grabbing your hand in his, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just–I forgot I have to meet with the baker today about the cake this morning.”
“Oh,” Steve’s expression was edged with concern and he let your hand drop as the others started moving to the top of the trail.
“Rehearsal dinner is tonight right?” Robin asked offhandedly, grabbing a piece of licorice from her fanny pack.
“You have licorice in there and didn’t offer me any?” Eddie accused.
“Yeah, tonight at seven at Hop and Joyce’s farm,” you said, trying to sound casual, but the warm feeling of Steve was still holding you tightly.
“Open bar?” Eddie grinned.
“Oh my god, Munson. Shut up,” Robin chided, shoving him as they all wandered down the path in a line, you and Steve bringing up the rear.
“Course it’s open bar,” you tried to laugh, but it fell short, everything feeling like it was crumbling now.
The breeze picked up, swirling around your feet, carrying spearmint and Steve’s shampoo and boy with it and as you watched the bachelor buttons sway with the wind you felt a thought gnawing at the back of your mind.
What if.
There was still time.
Nothing’s permanent.
People change their minds all the time and…
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Come over here. All you've got is this moment, twenty-first century's yesterday. You can care all you want, everybody does, yeah, that's okay.
“Chug, chug, chug!” “Don’t be a pussy, Jason!” “No way, he’s too old!”
It felt like you were back in high school throwing a rager over at Tina Rochester’s house not having drinks after your rehearsal dinner, but after most of the ‘adults’ had all gone home things got carried away.
Hop and Joyce’s farm was far enough outside of town that the noise wouldn’t bother anyone and thank god because it was loud. Maybe open bar hadn’t been the best idea, but Sam was having a great time, smiling and laughing for once and you didn’t fight it. You were having fun too.
“Ohhh! He did it!!” “Get that man a medal!”
Jason Carver, Sam’s best man, crushed his empty beer can under his foot to whoops and hollers. You weren’t sure who started it, but someone had told someone else they could shotgun a beer faster and it spiraled from there. Sam was in his element, partying alongside the other ex-basketball players, and for a minute you felt like maybe things would be okay.
Gathering you up in his arms, Sam spun you in a circle, pressing his lips messy and drunk against your cheek. “God, babe. Should be illegal to look that good,” he slurred into your ear, arms still holding you tight as he lowered you slowly back to the ground.
A grin tugged at the corners of your lips. “Gonna write me a ticket?” you teased and he reached a hand around to grab at your ass.
“Maybe I will,” he breathed and you felt a shiver run down your spine, but then a voice pulled him away.
“Sam? Oh my god!”
Carol and Tommy. Great.
“Carol?? I didn’t think y’all were getting here til tomorrow! Tommy, you look like shit,” Sam barked a laugh and lunged at his old friend, grabbing him around the waist and pushing him across the patio.
“Fuck off, you’re one to talk,” Tommy growled back, digging his hands into Sam’s ribs and both of them fell back into their old selves. Talking about a couple of friends that had gone pro, work, what married life was like for Tommy and Carol.
“Babe, go get me another beer, huh?” Sam said over his shoulder and you rolled your eyes, but giving Carol a quick hug you made your way over to the keg.
Priming the tap you started to pour beer into a cup, but it sputtered and choked before spilling foam and you frowned. “Piece of shit,” kicking the keg you shook the garbage can it was sitting in and tried again, but this time nothing came out.
“Need a hand?”
Eyes still on the keg you sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you dumped the foam in your cup onto the ground. “Tapped already,” you grumbled, turning around to see Steve grinning at you, hands jammed in his pockets, tie loose and hanging around his neck and you swore he was the most handsome human being you’d ever laid eyes on.
“Hmm, I don’t think so,” he took the last few steps toward you and primed the tap again, giving the keg one firm shake, and grabbed the cup from you. Foam started coming out and you jammed your tongue into your cheek.
“Ha! Told you–”
But then the foam turned into cold, amber beer, and you clamped your mouth shut.
“You were saying?” Steve teased and you shoved him, spilling some of the beer that he’d just poured into your cup on the ground. “Hey! You’re a menace,” he chided softly, shouldering you back, but grabbing the spout again he filled the cup once more and handed it back to you.
“Thanks,” you muttered, glancing over at him as you took a sip.
“Sam seems to be having a good time,” he commented, finding a cup of his own and filling it.
“Yeah, right back to high school.” You watched as your fiance, Tommy, and Jason all snickered and laughed at each other, talking about ‘the good old’ days, and your smile fell.
You couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like that with you. When he was drinking he got more handsy, liked to keep you close to his side and brag about how you were about to get married, but nothing about how hard you worked or the fact that you were saving up to buy a place.
“I dunno,” Steve sighed, taking a drink of his beer, “I don’t miss it.”
“Me either,” you agreed, glancing up at him, and your heart stopped.
God he was pretty. The string of lights that wound around the property washed him in a warm glow. Hair falling out of place as the night spun on, the line of his jaw cast in half light, dark and strong, the long sweep of his lashes as he blinked and looked down at you, the way his lips pulled up into that smile.
“What?” Steve asked, tone amused and playful and your eyes grew wide.
“What?” you echoed stupidly.
Steve laughed and gave you a lopsided smile. “You tell me, you’re the one zoning out,” he teased and your cheeks flushed.
“Oh, n-nothing,” you stumbled over your words and quickly filled the silence with another gulp of beer.
“Okay, well when it comes back to you lemme know.” His eyes lingered on yours for just a moment longer and then a look came over him. Like he remembered something. “Oh, hey. C’mere a minute,” and then he was grabbing your hand and pulling you around the side of the barn.
As he pulled you into motion you felt just how buzzed you were and a giggle pushed itself through your lips. “What the hell are we doing?” you asked, Steve loosing a laugh of his own as he yanked you both to a stop a few yards away from the party out in the long grass of Hop’s field.
“There,” he said pointing up and you followed the line of his arm into the sky until your eyes landed on it.
“Oh,” you breathed, pulling your gaze back to Steve as he looked up into the inky black expanse of the Indiana night. He was just how you remembered him. Hair messed, all boyish and eyes full of wonder and curiosity, just like he’d been those years ago that night in his backyard while you floated in his pool.
“Yeah, that one. Right there,” Steve swam closer to you, grabbing your arm, fingers folding yours in to make a point and tugging it up over your head.
Your breath hitched in your throat as his legs brushed against yours under the water and it took everything you had in you to pull your eyes from him to look up.
“See it?”
“That one?” you asked, pointing on your own, and he nodded as your eyes trailed up the line of your arm to land on an especially bright star.
“Mmhm,” Steve murmured and all you wanted was to look at him again, so you did. “While you’re gone you can just look up at that at night and think of me,” he said matter-of-fact, giving you one of his lopsided grins.
“What if we’re not looking at the same time?”
“I’ll always be looking,” Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper and the way he looked at you made you feel like you might melt. Blinking water from your lashes you lifted a hand to his cheek and at your touch his hands slipped along the bare skin of your waist, sliding down to your hips as he slowly pulled you into him.
The pool filter was humming heavy between the all crickets and frogs and lightning bugs, but you knew the thudding of your heartbeat was louder than all of it.
Wrapping your legs around Steve’s torso, you laced your fingers at the back of his neck, wanting him closer and tighter. Hair messed and flat against his forehead, his lips were parted as he breathed you in, water dripping off the end of his nose and eyes glittering in the pool lights, burnt caramel and honey and if he hadn’t been holding onto you, you would’ve floated away.
His fingers pressed into the soft skin at your hips and you sucked in a small gasp.
“Sorry,” he whispered, and you shook your head in reply. It’s okay. And then he gently pressed his thumb to the corner of your lips, swallowing against his nerves, and asked, “Can I kiss you?”
Heart racing, fingers still tangled at the back of his neck you whispered, “Yes.”
“Remember when we found it?”
Steve’s question brought you hurtling back to the present and you shook your head, heart racing in your chest like it had that night in his pool. “Of course I remember,” you murmured, and you knew you were crossing a line, knew you shouldn’t have done it, knew Sam was just around the other side of the barn, but something in you snapped. Shifted. Decided it didn’t care and you took Steve’s hand in yours.
His eyes flicked down to where they were joined and then back up to you, “But–”
“We’re friends,” you reasoned softly, “Friends hold hands.”
“Are we?” he asked and you swore you felt your heart crack as your fingers scrambled to tangle up with his.
“Yeah. Yes. We are,” your words came spilling out, the beer spidering warm and hazy through your body as you tried to justify your action and Steve’s brows furrowed as he dropped his gaze.
“I should go,” he said and regret gripped you like a vice.
“Don’t, please don’t,” your tone was almost pleading, watching as Steve’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, working through his own decision and you thought for a minute he would cave like he always did for you, but then his hand was untangling from yours and the ache in your chest was almost enough to pull tears from your eyes.
“You’re getting married tomorrow,” he said, voice thick and low, and when he opened his eyes finally to look at you, you saw a thousand I’m sorrys, all the regret and lingering kisses on hot summer nights and promises whispered in the dark and you shook your head.
“But it’s not–we can’t–please stay,” nothing you said made sense and Steve ran a hand through his hair, pulling his lip between his teeth.
“Get some sleep. I’ll see you at the church.”
And as you watched his figure walk away, silhouetted and dark against the indigo sky, your star blinking bright above you, you felt tears finally well up and spill down your cheeks.
Sucking in a breath you turned back to the the wide open expanse of field behind you and buried your face in your hands, trying to calm down, willing the tears to stop, telling yourself that you loved Sam. You were getting married. The ring on your finger a constant reminder of what was supposed to happen tomorrow and when you finally lifted your head from your hands your eyes fell on a bright patch there in the field at your feet.
Wildflowers.
Walking back to the party felt like a blur, Steve’s words playing over and over in your mind, and when you came back into the glow of the strung up lights your eyes searched frantically for Sam. If you could just hold his hand, pull him in close you’d know you loved him. Would know you wanted to marry him, but he wasn’t there and everything felt like it was unraveling.
“Hey, are you okay?” Robin’s hand was at your elbow and when you looked up at her, her brow furrowed with worry. “Whoa, what happened?”
“I just need to find Sam, have you seen him?”
“Yeah, yeah I think he was just over here, c’mon. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I just need Sam,” you choked out, Robin’s hand grabbing yours and pulling you along.
“Okay, we’ll find him, it’ll be okay.”
And as you rounded the corner into the quiet of the barn you heard hushed voices. Robin flicked on the overhead lighting to reveal Carol and Sam talking, huddled close to one another and your heart stopped in your chest.
“Wha–Sam? Carol?”
Carol’s eyes went wide and she took a couple steps back, giving you one of her smiles, all flimsy and saccharine sweet. “Oh my god, we thought you left!” she exclaimed, trying a laugh and you heard Robin mumble something under her breath next to you.
“Well, I didn’t. It’s my rehearsal dinner.”
“Babe, we were just trying to plan a surprise for you. For tomorrow, that’s all,” Sam said, taking the few steps toward you, taking your hand in his, but you felt sick to your stomach. You knew that look in his eye, his tone of voice overcompensating for something, lying.
“Yeah! Totally,” Carol said a little too enthusiastically and Robin had had enough.
“Oh my god, totally great!” she mocked, throwing one of Carol’s empty smiles back at her before taking your hand. “It’s super late, Carol. Time to go,” this time Robin’s voice was void of all joking and the look she gave the other girl was enough to push her to leave.
“Absolutely, sure thing. See you tomorrow! Can’t wait,” she purred, but her smile faltered as she met your gaze, walking quickly back out into the night.
“Babe, we really were planning a surprise, I–I just want tomorrow to be perfect,” Sam took your hand from Robin, shouldering her out of the way and she scoffed, still lingering in case you needed her.
“In here? In the dark?” your voice wobbled a bit as you realized what you were implying and Sam squeezed your hand, but it felt suffocating not warm or safe like Steve and you pulled it away. “I’m gonna go home, get some sleep.”
“Of course, baby. Whatever you need,” Sam crowded around you, rubbing your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, but you didn’t want any of it and shrugged him off.
“Can you give me a ride, Robs?” you asked, pulling away from Sam, your feet not moving you fast enough.
“Yeah, yeah I can give you a ride,” Robin took your hand again, Sam finding himself alone in the wide expanse of the barn on the eve of your wedding.
The happiest day of your life.
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“Listen, can I tell you something?” Robin said shifting into park as she turned down the radio and idled in your parents’ driveway.
“Sure,” your voice was small, timid, not you as your thoughts still lingered on what Steve had said. What Sam and Carol had looked like huddled close together in Hop’s barn. Asking yourself why. Asking yourself what you really wanted.
“I don’t think you should get married.”
Your head whipped up from your lap, brows knitted together. “What?”
“I don’t think you should get married,” Robin said again voice softer this time, knowing the weight it carried as she let it settle in the car between you.
“It’s literally happening tomorrow. What d’you mean don’t get married,” you were scrambling now, afraid of what would happen if you let her woods take root, the doubt that had been hovering deep down now pushing itself front and center.
“People do it all the time–”
“No, they don’t!” tears were welling up against your lashes, your face growing hot, willing yourself not to fall apart.
“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. Of course I’m gonna support you no matter what you decide,” Robin quickly recovered, grabbing your hands in hers as her expression softened. “Just–” a small sigh escaped her and she squeezed your hand, “–I want you to be happy. That’s all. Are you happy?”
Are you happy?
Robin looked at you, eyes wide, hands still holding onto yours and you felt yourself wrestling with the three simple words she’d thrown at you. Swallowing thickly, you couldn’t meet her gaze and pulled your hands away, grabbing at the door handle.
“I’m happy, I am,” and even you knew how flimsy it sounded, but your friend didn’t push you on it.
“Okay, okay. See you in the morning,” Robin said softly and all you could do was nod in reply before shutting the door and hurrying up the walk and into your parents’ house.
You didn’t bother showering as you moved quickly up the stairs to your room, not wanting to face your parents, not like this. Quietly shutting your door you felt the sob in your chest clawing its way up your throat and you tried to swallow it down as you threw back your covers and hid in the deep pile of blankets. You thought for a split second to call Sam over at Jason’s, ask him if he really loved you, if he still wanted to go through with this, but you buried your face into your pillow and tried to push your thoughts away.
Doubt had started blooming in the pit of your stomach from the moment you’d said yes, but it had just felt like the next right thing. Felt like you were supposed to. Date your boyfriend for a couple of years, move in together, get married. Right? But the things you tried hard to ignore kept bubbling up.
Your hesitation when Sam first asked you out. Your trips home on breaks and seeing Steve. The feelings you wrestled with when you saw him. When he talked to you and listened, really listened and looked at you. How it felt like a giant weight being lifted from your shoulders without Sam there.
Your first fight with Sam over money. How he spent so much of it going out with his friends. How you knew they stayed out late and talked to other girls. The high he got from it too much to stop him from doing it. The smell of the other girls on his clothes.
The first time he cheated on you and begged you to take him back. How the first person you wanted to call was Steve, but you called Robin instead.
And now the planning. All the disagreements and arguing and fighting and you were exhausted and he couldn’t even keep away from other women, from Carol, still after all that time.
Are you happy?
Robin’s question looped in your head and you knew the real answer.
No. But then…
Tap. Tap, tap tap.
Peeking your head out from under your covers your ears strained, trying to decide what it was you’d heard. Then it happened again.
Tap, tap. Tap.
There was only one thing that could make that sound, an all too familiar one that pulled forth a flood of precious, happy memories.
Rocks on your window.
Steve.
Crawling out of your bed you hurried to your window and yarded it open, sticking your head out and looking down like you’d done hundreds of times before. “Steve?” you hissed into the dark, and as the wind blew the clouds away from the moon, it shone down on the lawn below you washing Steve in soft light.
“Can I come up?”
You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, but knew there was no debate. “Yeah, hurry up,” and you moved out of the way as he started climbing the gutter before you’d even said yes.
Stumbling in through the open window Steve straightened up and dusted off his old, faded Hawkins High Athletics shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging on his hips, the same pair of dirty, beat up Blazers on his feet.
“Hi,” he said awkwardly, tongue jammed into his cheek as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Hi?” it came out expectantly, a question, but you couldn’t hide the relief in your voice at the sight of him standing there in your room.
“Listen, I just wanted to say sorry. For earlier,” he said, walking to your bed and plopping down on the messed up covers.
“Oh, that’s okay, I shouldn’t have–”
“Just let me apologize,” he said shaking his head with a half laugh, expression mismatched as it twisted with something between regret and care.
So you listened and kept your mouth shut, instead deciding to settle down next to him on your bed, thighs pressed together on the small twin sized mattress. Silence lingered for a minute, but the air was heavy, loaded, like how it felt right before a thunderstorm. The sky holding its breath before opening up and pouring rain, cracking the sky in half with bright streaks of light.
You both stole a look at the same time and it pulled a smile from each of you, tiny breathy laughs falling from your lips, but when it quieted again the tension flooded back in.
“Do you love him?” Steve broke the quiet and you felt your chest tighten. When you hesitated he grabbed your hand in his. “Do you?”
Your pulse fluttered against your neck, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water and stumbling and choking on your words, but you knew the answer. You both did. You’d just admitted it to yourself before Steve had fallen through your window and the familiar feeling of panic started to creep in around you, flinging you back to right before you’d left home again. Before you met Sam.
“Steve! Wait!”
You were practically running after him as he stalked back to his car, the sky on fire with the sunset and streaked in cherry reds, sunflower yellows, and bright tangerine.
He fumbled with his keys and dropped them into the grass at his feet, “Shit.”
“Please, just wait,” you were out of breath as you finally reached him and you saw his frame crumple as he loosed a sigh.
“Jesus, what?” his tone was short, clipped as he stared through his car window, your reflection playing against the glass.
“It’s only for another year, it’s not like I’m gonna be gone for–”
“Yeah! Another year!” Steve spun around to face you, cheeks red and lips pulled down into a frown, a muddied mixture of sadness and anger swimming in his eyes. “Just admit it, you don’t wanna come back here, and that’s fine! But don’t make me wait. Please don’t make me wait anymore. It–” Steve choked on his words and dropped his eyes to his feet, biting on the inside of his cheek to blunt the feelings swelling his chest. “It hurts. To sit and wait here for you. Please,” his voice edged on pleading and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
“It’ll work! It’s just a little longer–”
Steve took a step into you, crowding over you, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest at the closeness of him. He lifted a hand to your cheek, his brows pulling together as he looked down at you, eyes searching yours. “Then be with me. If it’s not that long then be with me. Long distance for a little while until you’re done with school,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
“Steve. I can’t–” your throat tightened around what you were about to say, scared of what that commitment looked like, scared to fuck it up between you, scared to lose your best friend, but your hesitation broke it anyway.
He dropped his hand away from your cheek, tongue flicking out to run along his lips as he held back his anger. His sadness. Frustration. Snatching his keys from the grass he unlocked the driver side door and flung it open rough.
“No! Wait! I just mean–”
“No!” he shouted into his car and then lowered his voice, tears streaming silently down his cheeks, “No. No more. Good luck with…everything.” And he piled into his car, slamming the door shut and ignoring your cries as you crowded against his window, asking him to stay. To talk about it. To figure things out, but he shifted it in drive and took off down your driveway and into the night.
You weren’t going to fuck it up. Not again.
“No,” and as your admission left your lips the heavy weight that had settled on your shoulders over the last two years started to melt away. “No. I don’t love him.”
Steve’s hold on you tightened, pressing your fingers into his palm and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, eyes searching yours, “Don’t marry him.”
Don’t marry him.
Your breath quickened and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to reason out what you’d just decided and you felt anxious, but Steve was there. And your room was warm and safe. Just like it was when you were younger. When you both laughed and traded secrets and made promises to each other in the dark.
“But. The wedding. The flowers, the cake, the guests–”
“Fuck ‘em,” Steve said, still holding onto your hand, and his words swirled around in your head. “It’s only a wedding. This is your life,” brushing the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, “You’re not happy.”
And you weren’t. You’d had moments with Sam, moments in time where things felt right and like maybe it could be forever, but they were just that. Moments. It shouldn’t be this hard. You’d sacrificed, compromised, bent and twisted yourself to be what Sam wanted, what he needed, not what you wanted and when you finally looked up at Steve you felt tears welling up against your lashes.
“What will my mom say,” your voice wobbled as you tangled your fingers with Steve’s and he gave you a small, reassuring smile.
“She wants you to be happy too. She’ll be okay.”
You were dizzy, hazy with thoughts of not being engaged anymore, buzzing with the anticipation of what this decision meant. Of what it held. What the future could be and you looked back up at Steve, tears started to quietly spill down your cheeks and his hand was quick to gently wipe them away. You shook your head, holding your breath, and when you let it go everything came tumbling out.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for making you wait. For hurting you. For everything–”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Steve softly chided, but you pressed on.
“No, no it’s my turn,” you said, voice thick through your tears, and then you turned to cup Steve’s face in your hands. A small smile pulled up at the corners of your mouth even through your crying and you pulled in a breath, “I love you, Stevie. I always have.”
The look on his face then was one of pure adoration, of relief, and he gave you a smile back, “I know. I love you too.”
I love you too.
Pulling him into you, you felt the soft warmth of his breath across your cheek, the smell of his shampoo and fresh laundry flooding your senses. Hesitating, waiting for him to tell you it was okay and he silently answered you by leaning in and closing the gap between your lips, pressing his softly into yours.
It was slow and languid, a thousand I love yous. Years of want and aching set free into the dark of your room as you breathed each other in like air. The feeling of Steve scattering you out into the stars to live with the one you’d deemed as yours, falling between all the glittering constellations and floating in each other.
I love you too.
Reluctantly Steve pulled away from you, eyes fluttering open to look into yours and he took hold of your waist. “Run away with me,” he whispered.
Your brows pulled together, “Run away?”
“Yeah. Right now. Throw your suitcase in my car and we’ll just drive. Get away from everything, just for a little while until you’re ready.”
Mind racing, working through the logistics of what he was suggesting, you almost protested, but something in you fought back. Told you to listen to your heart, not your head. What did you want? What would make you happy?
“Okay.”
“Really?” Steve’s face lit up at your response, like he hadn’t expected it, and you felt your lips pull up into a smile, tears drying on your cheeks as you let the feeling swallow you up in its warmth. The embers in your chest crackling and flickering with life, with a fire that burned only for him.
“Yeah, yeah I don’t care. I just want to be with you,” you felt yourself grow more and more confident, more decided and Steve pulled you in again to press another kiss to your lips. This time it was hotter, bolder, a confession of passion and you grinned into him.
“C’mon, if we go now we can get coffee at that shitty diner just off the highway outside of town,” he was grinning now too.
“They make the best pancakes,” you laughed softly and Steve’s smile melted as he looked at you.
Finally.
He helped you gather your things, carrying your suitcase out to his car, and you felt like you could fly. Lighter than you’d been in years and the thought of just driving down the road with him filled you with warmth. Like watching the sun set at the end of a hot summer day. Like dipping your feet in the pool after sitting in the heat. Sweet like the taste that followed after a tart drink of lemonade.
You left your engagement ring on your dresser, a small folded note under it for Sam telling him sorry. Telling him you hoped he would find what he wanted. That you knew he’d be okay. And as you closed the door to your parents’ house you felt like you were closing that chapter. Ready to start new. To free fall into this open-ended story with Steve and as you settled into his car your eyes caught a small patch of lawn on the side of your house. Bright and soft in the moonlight and full of color.
Wildflowers.
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist
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929 notes · View notes
3vergr3en · 1 year
Text
Earn it.
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Author’s Note: I have the biggest, most fattest crush on Andrew Garfield. LIKE LOOK AT HIM. Also, if there are any mistakes, I did not proofread this 💀
Summary: Harry is hosting a birthday party for his best friend, Peter. Everything runs smoothly until Y/N’s best friend back in high school shows up and start flirting with the female. Oblivious Y/N doesn’t think much of it, being used to such playful manner. But Peter can see through the man’s facade, and he doesn’t like it one bit.
Paring: Fem!Reader x TASM!Peter Parker
Genre: Smut with little plot.
Word Count: 2.9K
Additional Info: Public sex, unprotected sex (PLEASE WRAP IT), nipple play, orgasm control, Peter has an obvious breeding kink, cream pie, choking, teasing, profanity, name-calling, humiliation, dirty talk, jealousy, established marriage.
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“Thank you for coming! Please grab some champagne and the appetizers are over towards the left.” You inform with a smile, using your hands to help direct the couple towards the section. You continued on saying the same phrase for the majority, apart from times where you had thrown in a couple different sentences such as, ‘You guys look amazing tonight”, ‘Oh my, I haven’t seen you in so long!’, and ‘Oh thank you, Peter helped me pick out this dress.’
But one familiar fellow caught your attention, “Oh my god, Mark is that you?” You question as your jaw hung low in shock, your eyes widening twice in size. “I’m surprised you still remember me.” The black-haired man laughs as he walks up to you, extending his arms out as an indication for a hug, “How could I not? We spent our entire high school years together!” You exclaim, embracing the latter into your arms. You received a nice, firm hug from the male in return. “God, I missed you.” Mark chuckles, using one of his hands to caress the bare skin on your back through your long, velvet black backless dress. “I missed you as well. I tried contacting you after graduation, but—“ You pulled away.
“I got a new phone, and all of my contacts didn’t save unfortunately.” Mark explains as he held your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing in circular motions on the back of your hands. “You look gorgeous, by the way. You’ve always have been, since high school to now.” Mark compliments, leaning down to kiss your hand. “Oh stop it, Mark. You’re too much. What happened to the Mark that would tease me 24/7?” You laugh, using one of your hands to playfully slap at the man’s shoulder.
You fail to notice a presence coming up behind you, growing concerned when there was an abrupt change in Marks demeanor. “Mark? What’s wrong?” You furrowed your eyebrows as your frowned before looking over your shoulder only to see Peter glaring at Mark with a tightly-clenched jaw. “Oh hon’! Have you seen what Harry has done for your birthday? The ballroom is absolutely stunning! Also, I want you to meet Mark, he was my best friend throughout high school,” You smiled, wrapping your arms around your husband’s arm, oblivious to the tension between the two men. “And Mark, meet my husband, Peter.” You inform, feeling one of Peter’s arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.
“Husband?” Mark questions, raising one of his eyebrows. “Yeah. Dated for 4 years, been married for 5.” Peter stated, holding the hand out that the wedding band around your ring finger. “Oh, well, congratulations. I’m really happy for you, Y/N. But I’m just saying, I would’ve gotten a better ring for a beautiful woman like you.” Mark examines the ring, then to look at Peter with a smug look.
“Pfft, I forgot how much of a jokester you are, Mark.” You grin. “Hey, love? Can you go grab me some water?“ Peter asks with a nonchalant tone, not breaking eye contact with the man that stood in front of him. “Hm? Oh yeah, of course.” You nod, excusing yourself before walking off.
“The fuck is your problem?” Peter mutters, stepping closer towards Mark. “Nothing. It’s just sad to hear that my girl’s married off to some other dude. She looks ravishing tonight. The way the dress perfectly hugs her waist and extenuate her curves. How is she? Is she tight? Does her tits feel soft?” Mark whispers, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk. Peter balled up his fists, clenching tightly to the point where his knuckles were turning white. As he opened up his mouth to say something, a pair of heels clicking against the smooth, tiled floor pulled him out of his frenzy.
“Unfortunately, they didn’t have water at the moment. They only had champagne, if that’s okay, love?” You explained, each hand holding two glasses. “I got one for you, Peter, and one for Mark.” You smiled. “That won’t be necessary, hon’.” Peter chuckles, grabbing both glasses. Before you could get a word in to ask why, your hands flew to cover your mouth as you watched Peter pour the beverages straight onto Marks head. Peter then handed you the empty glasses, pecking your cheek before turning around to face Mark once more, only to land a hard blow right across the males face. “Oh my god, Peter!” You gawked, immediately placing the glasses on a nearby table prior to rushing over to pull the brunette away from the half insensible Mark. “What is wrong with you?” You question with wide eyes, you look around to see people judgmentally staring at you three.
“You didn’t hear the vile things he said about you.” Peter mutters, shaking the hand that is now starting to bruise up. “Security!” You call out, “Please escort this gentleman out.” As two able-bodied men in black suits walked over, you pointed your hand at Mark who could barely stand. “Thank you.” You say to the two men, smiling.
You then felt a hand gripping at your wrist, dragging you through the crowd of people and up the carpet staircase. “Peter, where are you taking me?” You whispered loud enough for only Peter to hear. “Shut up.” You heard Peter respond back in a churlishly manner. You were bewildered. You don’t even know what Mark could’ve said to have Peter all riled up. You didn’t know where Peter was taking you in all honestly, there was a lot of turns and all you knew was that your feet were starting to hurt. It’s not easy to walk relatively fast in 5 inch heels.
“Peter, can you please slow down? My feet are starting to hurt—“ You gasped as you were suddenly grabbed at your shoulders, turned around to have your back pushed up against a large glass window. “Peter-!” You slightly yelp, looking around frantically. You saw you two were in a short hallway, the lights were fairly dimmed. You look over your shoulder to look through the glass windows and see you were approximately 15 stories high. “Peter, what are you doing?” You whisper, looking up at the male with furrowed eyebrows.
“Are you really that fucking stupid, huh?” Peter spats out. He grabs both of your wrists with one of his hands, pinning it above your head. The other hand now clenched around your jaw. “I don’t understand—“ You whimper when you felt Peter’s thigh force your legs apart. “He was flirting with you. Maybe you’re just too fucking dumb to even notice.” Peter says through gritted teeth. “Touching you.. putting his lips on you,” He scoffs, his hand that held your jaw now making its way down to your neck. “He had the fucking nerve to ask such vulgar questions about my lovely wife,” Peter laughs, tightening his grip around your throat, “But he wont ever know. He’ll live out the rest of his life wondering how tight you feel.. how soft these wonderful tits are.. and how much of a slut you sound like when you’re getting fucked.” Peter whispers into your ear, his thigh inching closer to your aching cunt.
You felt your body becoming hotter. But you also felt yourself becoming wetter with each passing second. “I’m sorry, Peter. Please..” You gasp out, bucking your hips up, trying to grind against Peter’s thigh for some sort of friction. “Look at my pathetic little whore, trying to rub herself on me. Tell me, love, what do you want?” Peter asks, loosening his grip around your throat. “Please fuck me..” You whine, shortly gasping afterwards when Peter finally pressed his thigh up against your clothed pussy. “More. Beg for it.” Peter orders. You began moving your hips forward and backwards, grinding against the soft material of the suit. Small whimpers slipping out of your mouth as you finally gained the friction you’ve been wanting. But it wasn’t enough, you needed more. You itched for more.
“Need more..” You breathed out, shaking your head when Peter had pulled his thigh away, “I want you inside of me.” You moaned when you felt Peter’s hand cupping your sex. “Do you deserve to be fucked, love?” Peter asks as he grabbed a handful of the lace material before ripping it off of you. You gasped at the sudden chill waving at your soaked cunt. He balled it up in his fists before stuffing it into his pant pocket. “Did you fucking hear me?” Peter asks, using the hand that bonded your wrists together, to now wrap around your throat once again, pinning you against the clear, cold glass surface. You nod frantically, mouth a gape, “Yes! Yes! I deserved to be fucked, oh please.. please fuck me.” You pleaded desperately when Peter’s fingers glided a long stripe in between your folds, stopping when the pad of his fingers landed perfectly on top of the clit. “Gotta quiet down, hon’.“ Peter huffs out, rubbing the small bundle of nerves in a slow, agonizing pace. “Please! Peter, faster!” You cried out, unable to take any more teasing. “What the fuck did I just say?” Peter muttered, momentarily pinching the airways on your throat. His fingers now starting to pick up the pace, rubbing in circular motions against the small knob. You moan, your hips bucking up into Peter’s hand. “Oh shit, yes!” You whimper, biting down on your bottom lip in attempt to try to lower your voice.
You whine in protest when Peter pulls his hands away from your body. He then pinched at the straps of your dress, pulling it down your arms, allowing the upper part of the dress to slip off your chest. Your breasts now full out on display, your nipples hard. “Another thing Mark will never know..” Peter breathes out as he turns you around. The front of your body now exposed to the outside world. His hands snaking around your torso till it reached your tits. He cupped them into his hands, kneading the soft, warm flesh. You hold onto Peter’s wrists, tilting your head backwards to rest onto the male’s broad shoulder. He slightly grazed his index fingers against the tip of your erected nipples, chuckling when you twitched against him. “I love how sensitive they are,” Peter whispers into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. He placed his finger pads onto your nipples, beginning to rub them circular motions. You moan out in delight, squeezing your thighs together. “P-peter,” You whimpered. “Yes, baby. Say my name.” He hums, pinching the buds in between his thumb and index fingers. Twisting it and tugging it very slightly. “Peter!” You moaned out, rubbing your ass against Peter lower half, giggling when you felt his bulge poking through his pants.
“I need to see your pretty face when I fuck my cock into you.” Peter groaned, “Would you like that, baby? Hm? You want my thick cock ramming inside of this pathetic little pussy of yours?” He smirks as he undoes his belt, pulling the pants down enough for him to pull out his erected cock, finding it entertaining watching you fold under him. “Yes! Oh god, yes please! Fuck me, Peter..” You trailed off at the end. Suddenly a wave of boldness came over you, “Unless if I just call Mark right now and have him fuck me instead—“
You cut yourself off with a cry of pure bliss when you felt Peter force himself into you with the help of your wetness as a lubricant. Your hands flew onto the glass, palms spread flat out on the surface as Peter gripped at your hips, pulling out till the tip was barely left in, only to slam himself into you with full force. “Fuck! Peter!” You moaned, your breasts pushed up against the glass window, your chest twitching due to the friction of your nipples rubbing against the surface. “Who can fuck you like this, hm? Who can fuck this pussy?” Peter grunts into your ear, repeatedly slamming his hips against your ass. “You, Peter! Oh fuck, it’s you!” You cry out, already feeling your legs buckling.
You couldn’t think of anything besides the feeling of Peter’s cock ramming into you. Filling you up perfectly. You were already on edge due to the teasing from earlier. You felt like a bucket being filled up, on the brim of tipping over. “Peter, slow down. I’m getting close.” You beg, using one of your hands to reach back and push against Peter’s pelvis. But rather than slowing down, Peter ignored the pleas from his wife and instead thrusted faster, his balls slapping against your cunt. “Oh god! P-please! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out loud, shaking your head frantically.
Peter abruptly pulls out, catching you in his arms when you’re legs collapsed on themselves. “N-no..” You whined out pathetically when you felt your orgasm was ripped away from you. Peter picks you up in his arms, carrying you to a nearby table that was placed against the wall along the hallway. He sets you down on the marble table, placing himself in between your legs. “Look at me, beautiful. Who makes you this stupid when fucking you?” Peter asks, his tone sweet ironically compared to what he’s asking. “You, Peter.” You smile, wrapping your arms around the male’s neck. “Good girl.” He praises, pecking your mascara stained cheek.
He lines himself up to your gaping hole, pushing in once more, groaning. “Fuck, my baby’s pussy is so warm and tight. Look at it pulling my cock in.” He laughs. Once he fully bottomed out, his hip began snapping against yours. Squelching sounds fills the hallway along with the obscene noises that left your mouth. “I’m going to cum soon, baby.” Peter moaned out. You tightly wrapped your legs around Peter’s hips, locking him in a tight space. “I’m gonna cum in this little pussy of yours. Gon’ fill you up to the brim, fuck!‘M gonna fuck my babies into you.” Peter groans, laughing when he felt you clench tightly around him. “Oh yeah? You like the thought of me fucking my cum so deep inside of you? Getting you pregnant, hm? Your belly round and full of my kids?” He says, “Oh, fuck, yes! Please cum inside of me!” You plead, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust Peter makes. “I’m.. gonna get you pregnant.” Peter breathes out, his thrusts beginning to get sloppy.
“I-I’m cumming!” You cried out, “Lets come together, love.” Peter moans, his thrusts quickening just for a few moments until it came to a full stop. “Fuck, Y/N!” He says as he came, his cock pulsating inside of you. Thick spurts of white, warm cum shot inside of you. Coating your insides with his seed.
“Peter!” You came straight after. Your eyes rolling back as one last moan that sounded like it came straight from a porno emitted from you. Your legs fully tightening around Peter hips, making sure to squeeze out every single drop of cum from the male. You felt yourself tipping over inside, a wave of pleasure coursing throughout your body, leaving you twitching.
Peter slowly pulls out once he felt himself go limp inside of you. He leaned over to embrace you into his arms, holding you close to him. “Happy birthday, Peter.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Thank you, love. Let’s get you fixed up before we go back downstairs, okay?” He suggests, moving a strand of hair away from your face. “But I’m pretty sure they’ve heard you. ‘Oh, fuck, yes! Please cum inside of me!’” Peter playfully mocks. You gasp and punched him in the arm, “Oh shut up!” You whine, hiding your face in Peter’s shoulder. “I hate you.” You mumble, “No you don’t. You love me.” Peter laughs, helping you wear your dress correctly.
941 notes · View notes
oonajaeadira · 1 year
Text
Detected
Fandom: Merge Mansion / Tim Rockford
Pairing: Tim Rockford x f!reader
Reader: Adult female. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.
Rating: T. Fluff.
Warnings: Mention of serial killer that targets women.
Summary: Nobody sees you the way Tim does.
A/N: I dunno, I just had a hankering to write for Tim and looked down my list of tropes thinking I might be able to scratch the itch and accomplish a fic for my Year of Tropes at the same time. Something hit me in the right places for a little piece of sweetness, so here we go, with SECRET IDENTITY.
This is really fluffy. Like stupid fluffy. Moreso than my regular stuff. Just let me have my little trope. This one didn't go through a lot of draft revisions, it was just a fun little thot that needed out.
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“Why don’t you take the afternoon off, Sunshine? Get some rest. You’ve been here ten days straight.”
Tim’s the only detective in the unit who talks to you directly, certainly the only one that doesn’t just call you ‘hon’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘girl.’ You’re pretty sure he’s probably the only one in the department that knows your name, but he rarely uses it. 
That isn’t unusual. You’ve always been the quiet one, the mouse, the wallflower. It’s your superpower, being able to go unnoticed. You’ve never been reprimanded, never bad-talked, never held up as a bad example.
But then, neither do you often find yourself praised or called in for opinion. Never once have you been asked to join anyone for happy hour or coffee.
So many times you’ve been standing in a meeting room and not once been addressed. So many times you’ve overheard something that perhaps you shouldn’t have just because you were below anyone’s notice.
It bothered you so much more when you were younger. Not the case anymore.
You’ve learned to love your quiet life, shuffling around the records room, carefully tagging and bagging, filling out the document cards, compiling files, taking meticulous photos of items for court cases and detective scrutiny. Nobody comes looking for you, so you get to take your time, a kind of professional meditation. At least once a week you notice a detail on a piece of evidence that you might make known to one of the team. Usually this gets you a thanks, but more often times a brush off that ends in the detective later gaining the credit for the discovery.
Tim is different. Observant. He actually listens when you bring him something of interest and asks for your opinion or your second eye. He still does that thing where he puts the pictures of people and evidence you provide up on the wall and connects it with string. He will stare at that board for hours, getting up every now and then to pace, then turning the chair around to straddle it backwards so he can lean over the back and look again, hoping to find the one connection that the string can’t touch.
And yet, even when he’s concentrating this hard, he’s fully aware of his surroundings.
So much so that he even notices you’ve slipped into the room to stand behind him--you, who goes mostly unnoticed when standing in full view of most people.
When you don’t answer him, he turns his chin back over his shoulder, his sharp profile coming into relief against the organized mess of the illuminated case wall. 
He’s so very handsome. And it’s a shame he doesn’t seem to know. Or care.
Snapping free of your musings, you finally answer. “Yeah, it’s been a busy week. I’ve still got the Murray case to document. There’s a lot of entries.”
Turning fully to look at you now, he takes his time formulating a new response. “That case is closed. There’s no hurry. You work too hard. It’s Saturday.”
You shrug and smile. “I like my job. And you're one to talk.” Nodding to the evidence wall, you step more fully into the room. “Any movement on this? Sure I can’t help you? Anything I can pull from archives?”
This is a tough one. There’s a lot of speculation as to the mangled bodies in the pictures. A new one found last night, a week old. The probability is high that there’s one club downtown that’s producing them all and a definite suspect, but the record’s clean. There’s no grounds for warrants.
He gives you one more thoughtful glance before turning back to his work. “Not unless you have anything that correlates this last one to Club 88 or to Mike Cross. But no. Thanks. Get out of here, live your life, be free. I’m gonna go grab an interview out at the pier but then I’ll be here all night.”
He’s hungry. You can see that look in his eyes, he’s close, he just needs that one connecting piece of evidence and he’ll empty the coffee pots in the breakroom tonight looking for one.
“You’re hungry, Detective Rockford. At least let me call in some takeout for you before I go? Lau’s number 22 with chicken, right?”
He simply nods. “Thanks, Sunshine.”
“You got it, Detective.”
—-
Your pager goes off two hours later.
Special case. Could use your help. Pier 13.
You’ve been waiting for the call.
Upon arriving home from the department, you’d closed your blinds and turned off the lights, pulled on the dark pants and long fitted coat, tucked your hair up under the black hood and pulled it low. Gloves. Boots. Plain and unassuming in this fall weather.
You’re able to walk out the back door of your apartment building and take a path through the alley as the sun is setting without anyone giving you a second glance.
The only piece of your disguise you truly need is the vocal changer mask, but that stays tucked in your coat pocket until you arrive at the pier.
Once you can smell the water, you take a moment to hide your face, your voice, and your identity under the dark, nondescript mask–a blank slate of void where a face should be–before stepping out of the alleys and making your way to pier 13 where Tim Rockford stands looking out over the harbor at the lights starting to come on over the bridge.
“What can I do for you, Detective?” The voice that grates out of your mask is low, warped, almost sultry.
Tim, for all his awareness, misses your entrance. This is the strength of your powers. Snapping out of his reverie, he spins to find you only feet away, your long coat fluttering in the breeze.
And an awed smile spreads across his face.
Tim is the only one on the force that smiles when you show up as the Shadow. The rest of the cops tend to startle, recoil, not understanding how you simply seem to appear out of the air, unfold from the shadows, melt into the darkness itself.
“Thanks for coming, Shadow,” he says, his trenchcoat joining in the fluttering conversation of overwear. Pulling a few pictures out of his pocket, he holds them out and you take them.
A new mangled body. A hurried photo of a man with light skin and dark hair and blue eyes. A blown-up scan of license plate. You recognize them from his evidence board but say nothing, letting him make the request.
He explains the supposed serial killings, the patterns, the suspect, the license plate that isn’t his but was caught on surveillance near a couple of the dumping grounds.
“I’m pretty sure it’s him,” he concludes, poking at the photo of Mike Cross, “but I’m lacking something damming.”
“You mean you're 100% sure it's him. You're a thorough man; wouldn't just jump to conclusions. And you want me to go hunting.”
“I’d rather you just go take a listen. I don’t really want you to put yourself in danger.”
It’s a good thing he can’t see you smile. Trust Tim Rockford to be the one detective that worries about the safety of the city’s resident secret, pacifist vigilante. 
“I’m touched by your concern, Detective. But I haven’t been caught yet. Even if danger catches a glimpse of me, I’m very good at hiding.”
“I know. But it’s only a matter of time before somebody really sees you.” He smiles a little sadly. “I wish you wouldn’t hide from me. But I know why you do.”
It should be surprising–it’s not like him to cross this line–but instead, his statement warms you. Tim has always been grateful for the Shadow’s help, respectful, believed in your ability. But he’s also come to treat the Shadow as a friend. There’s something that tugs at your heart, knowing this dedicated, handsome, intelligent man truly trusts you but also respects and admires your limitations.
If only he knew how much you wish you could tell him, show him, let him know how much you admire him too.
He only blinks when you seem to melt into thin air, becoming one with the lengthening shadows.
_____
Club 88. The back alley. A black car belonging to Mike Cross. Nobody here to notice you but the rats as you duck around the back and inspect the bumper, find a magnetized plate cover hidden underneath that matches the photo in your pocket.
There’s the connection. Now for something that threads the needle.
_____
Maskless and hatless, you simply take up a serving tray and follow Mike Cross and a young pretty thing through the swinging “employees only” door and down a back corridor of the dark, thumping night club. Making yourself busy with empty bottles on the tray, you watch him pay a man and step into a private room with the girl. The man goes to find something else to do, nearly knocking your shoulder as he passes, as if you’re simply a tower of inventory boxes or a rogue tray of dirty dishes…or just some random hostess he doesn’t have time for.
Easy.
You’re able to enter the dimmed room under the guise of bringing in bottle service. The couple doesn’t even notice you while they make out on the couch in the VIP lounge. You simply dip your hand into the pocket of the jacket he’s left on a chair and lift his wallet. 
Might as well take the gun that’s there too. Just in case.
Time to get moving while he’s distracted.
_____
Using the address on the ID in his wallet, you make your way across town.
It’s easy enough to slip past the doorman. Unfortunately though, Mike’s apartment building has security cameras on every floor. This calls for a little distraction. Easy enough. All you need is the pad of paper and pen you carry in your pocket.
Knock on door 312. Explain you’re responding to a noise complaint in apartment 313. There is no apartment 313? That’s odd. Maybe it was apartment 311? 
When the occupants of 311 and 312 speculate over the possibilities–which apartment was the loud one? Who called in the complaint? They bet it was 211 down there, what a bitch….
It’s just enough time for you to use your jiggler key to work open the lock for Mike’s apartment and slip inside. Not only have they seemed to forgotten about you, but if anyone ever plays back the security tapes, their eyes will just slide right over you and concentrate on the gossiping neighbors in the hall.
Mike’s apartment is clean and sparse. By the looks of the set up of the living room, he likes to sit in the center of the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table while he drinks his beer (water ring stains on the veneer top) and watches tv. Not much on the walls. Books on the bookshelf, but no knicknacks.
You don’t know what you’re looking for yet, but you’ll know it when you find it.
There are a few places you start. The drawers in the kitchen. The freezer. The bedside table. Shelves in the closet. Medicine cabinet. Somewhere you'd stash something unassuming but precious but that you don't want anyone else to come across and ask questions.
But it’s as you pass back out through the bedroom, and lightly push the door open a bit wider that you hear a clinking and tapping on the other side.
There, hanging off a hook on the back of the bedroom door, is a silver chain.
With five women’s rings on it.
Yahtzee.
You snap a few photos with your phone before moving through the apartment again, looking for anything else, just in case your first instincts were wrong.
But your instincts are very rarely wrong.
Criminals love trophies. Little keepsakes of their thrills. Look for a collection of something that seems out of place and you’ve probably found your clue.
You’re just about to call it good and head out when you hear a key turning in the lock.
No need to panic, you’ve got this.
As Mike enters and kicks off his shoes before making his way to the bathroom, all you have to do is stand silently beside the far side of the bookshelf.
He doesn’t even turn on the light. Even easier.
Once the bathroom door closes, you’re able to silently slip out.
“It’s only a matter of time before somebody really sees you.”
Doubtful, Tim. But I wish I could tell you how sweet your concern is.
____
True to form, Tim’s is one of the only lights burning at the office when you slide through the department well after midnight.
It’s not often that you show up here as the Shadow, but you make sure it’s only at night when most of the lights are out. Even if you’re seen engaging with one of them, the detectives all know to look the other way and not to ask questions when someone on the force has requested your services. 
They see nothing, and say less.
When you get to the back offices, you have to stop for a moment in the shadows and take in the scene.
Tim’s here in the dim room, standing at a desk full of evidence bags. The one with the knife in it lays on a lightbox, the glow of which reaches up to caress his face, dragging at his cheeks and the bags under his eyes, his brow and bottom lip succumbing to the pull of contemplation.
You have to wonder if the detective has any joys outside of his work, if he reads or paints, if he’s into woodworking or collecting memorabilia. You often find yourself wishing you had the means to learn more about him and find yourself watching him from across the office as if you could read it in the stretch of his aching neck, in the hunch of his gun-holstered shoulders. 
But you’ve grown used to your quiet life. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if someone else actually paid you enough attention to let you into their life–
“What have you got for me?” he asks, and you flinch. He hadn’t even turned around.
“Plenty," you rasp through the voice modulator. "How did you know I was here?”
“I always notice you,” he says. “And I could ask you the same thing.”
“Where else would you be?”
“I have a home.”
“Do you ever go there?”
He laughs and finally turns. “Yeah, not lately.”
Emerging from the darkness, you hand him a few photos you ran off from your phone at home, knowing he'd appreciate the analog. There's the plate cover. The ID. The chain of rings. You also hand over the gun you pinched. “Just in case you need to run a match on any casings.”
It’s here that Tim’s look grows sour. “You took this off him?” Then he tilts his head, scanning the photos. “This one…taken inside his house?”
“Yes. Most likely a collection of his trophies–”
“You went into his house??”
His intensity stops you. Something’s….wrong. “It was necessary. I wasn’t seen.”
“I told you, nothing dangerous. What if he’d come home?”
“He did.” This gains an unprecedented look of alarm from the otherwise calm and calculated man. “I told you, Detective, I wasn’t seen. I never am. That’s what I do.”
“That’s not the point, Sunshine. He murders women and dumps their bodies. This is different from the drug smugglers and counterfeit runners you usually surveil…”
He stops, registering what he just said only a couple of seconds after you do, a calm sigh of regret washing over him before being replaced by the bloom of concern.
You could choose to ignore it.
But it's useless. Tim would never let an assumption take hold as truth unless he had absolute proof. He’s the best. The best of the best and doesn’t even know it. So long you’ve wished to tell him, to make him see what you see in him, but it would mean opening yourself, becoming visible, being seen.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. This is your superpower, this anonymity, this blurring at the edges, this void of connection…
And you should back away when he approaches.
But you don't want to. 
Nor do you dodge as he slowly reaches up to remove your mask. Your hood. Fits his palm to your jaw and runs the length of a cheekbone with his thumb. “It doesn’t work on everyone, Sunshine. Not if they really want to see you.”
As his warm, weary brown eyes find yours, two thick, generous tears spill down your cheeks, two surprising hot spikes of your heart right there on your face. It’s like being thrust underwater without the chance to take a breath, the panic of suddenly being the center of someone’s attention, and you gasp for air only to release a sob, slapping both hands to your face in embarrassment.
Tim doesn’t pry your hands away, he merely runs a knuckle over one as if to say, hey, you’re still hiding.
And you realize that you are.
When you finally don’t have to be.
When you lower your guard, he’s waiting there patiently to welcome you back.
“You okay?” he asks, handing you a napkin for your tears.
Nodding, you take it and use it quietly before swallowing, trying to steady a voice out in the open. “What now?”
He looks pointedly over at his desk and gestures for you to head over there. “I thought maybe we’d start with dinner. I figured you'd come by.”
There are two Chinese takeout boxes on the blotter, both bearing a code in black ink. 
22C. His standard.
Lucky13. Your favorite. With the sauces on the side, just like you like it.
Speechless, you look at him in awe. You do see me.
And he tucks his hands in his pockets, softening back at you with a look that can only be described as Yeah.
_____
In the following days you’re able to hunt down photos of the killer’s victims that clearly display their hands and the rings that you found in his apartment.
Undercover targets are planted in the club to entice Mike Cross, and sure enough, he takes one to the back room, pays for privacy, extra for a later cleanup, but gets caught with his fingers around her throat as a whole squad breaks down the door to take him into custody.
There’s no doubt he will never see the outside of a prison again.
Club 88 is shut down and a long investigation into its ownership and practices begin. The Shadow is called in by the investigating team for your fly-on-the-wall services and at first you’re afraid that perhaps, now that you’ve been seen, that the shine of your powers has dimmed or–to be more precise–a newfound confidence makes you even brighter than before.
On the contrary, you’ve never felt more powerful or more in control of your abilities. 
Perhaps because the one person who can detect your sunshine also pours pride into your shadow.
Or maybe it’s the regular diet of Lucky Number 13 and a new morning view these days. Who’s to say?
____
MASTERLIST
CHARACTER MASTERLIST
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Text
Permanent Surrender
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This fic will cover my A Locket-A weapon-An Unexpected Kiss square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card.
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Summary: Ben and Y/N hate each other...but what lies just over the edge of hate?
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Of course - it's Soldier Boy! Misogynistic language, Ben being an asshole. Rough, unprotected PinV sex, vaginal fingering, anal sex, spit and cum as lube, Oral (m receiving) slight face fucking, dub con (let's call it forceful seduction), lots of dirty talk.
Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader and Soldier Boy x Sarah (sort of)
Word Count: 3,633
A/N: So this is my next square for my second jacklesversebingo card. The request for this one came from @deans-spinster-witch who sent an ask saying simply:
A locket, a weapon, an unexpected kiss with Soldier Boy & the reader?
Rewatching 3x08, I came upon this classic line and it got my dirty mind rolling:
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So, this is what I came up with, hon! Hope you (and everyone else too) enjoy it! ❤️ If you do, don't forget to like, comment and/or reblog. It means the world.
The dividers used here are created by @silkholland
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The skyline of New York City stretched out in front of Sarah for miles, lights twinkling like fallen stars in the inky black sky. The night had taken its toll on her and she found herself with a bit of a headache. She rubbed a hand over her forehead as images of the night came back to her.
…the terrorists storming into their company's New Year's Eve party…
…the screams of fear from those around her as the Soviet terrorists forced them, at gunpoint, into the small, crowded conference room…
…the feeling of soaring relief and happiness as something smashed through the windows on the eightieth floor of Takao Corporation Headquarters…
…the way her heart beat triple time when she realized it was him - Soldier Boy! He'd come for her, just as she'd known he would…
He'd saved them all and sent those Soviet bastards packing!
And now she stood free and safe, in the chill of a New York December night, with only a light sweater over her shoulders. She shivered and considered going back inside, but then suddenly he was there - walking towards her in his emerald green suit, not even a single tear in it from his gallant rescue.
“Hey, sweetness.” He said as he reached her and ran his hands up and down her arms. “You're gonna catch pneumonia out here. I didn't come all this way to save you just to lose you to a cold.”
He smiled at her warmly and she felt her insides tremble. 
“Oh, speaking of lost things…” He reached into a pocket in his sleeve and pulled out a delicate gold chain with a locket dangling from it.
Sarah gasped. “My grandmother's locket!” She exclaimed with wide eyes. “When those bastards ripped it from around my neck, I never thought I'd see it again.”
Soldier Boy shook his head. “I knew I had to get this back to you. I know how much it means to you, being the last thing your grandmother ever gave you. I couldn't let them take it.”
Sarah’s eyes welled up with tears as Soldier Boy held up the locket and nodded towards her. 
“May I?” He asked.
She nodded and he stepped close to her, clasping the fine gold chain around her neck.
When he had it in place, he stepped back from her slightly, but remained close. He let his finger trail down the cold metal links resting on her warm skin and when he spoke his voice was deep and warm.
“So…” He seemed a little nervous and Sarah blushed. “I know it's well after midnight, but…do you think I could steal a New Year's Eve kiss?”
She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I thought you'd never ask.”
He smiled into their kiss…
…and the music swelled, the camera slowly panning away into a long crane shot until the screen faded to black and the credits finally began to roll. 
The Heart of Rock and Roll by Huey Lewis and the News blasted from the speakers as the theater erupted in applause, everyone cheering the latest exploits of Soldier Boy. Once again he'd shot down all the bad guys (except for a few who's throats he slit), saved all the hostages and, of course, got the girl.
Ben and Y/N came out onto the small stage at the front of the theater and gave everyone a wave. Ben spoke into the microphone someone had placed in front of him.
“Thank you so much for coming to the premiere of ‘Falling Thunder’. We hope you enjoyed it; we sure enjoyed making it.”
Ben smiled down at Y/N and squeezed the hand he held very hard until a smile popped up on her face. She leaned into the microphone.
“Yes, what an adventure this has been. And thanks so much to the best partner I could ask for.” She gushed, latching onto Ben's bicep and then coyly burying her face in the same arm as the audience oohed and aahed and whistled at them.
Ben laughed and chucked her chin, throwing her a wink and making all the women in the audience melt into puddles. The two of them flashed a few more smiles and waved again as they walked offstage. The second they were past the curtain, they dropped their smiles and each other's hands. 
Y/N breathed deeply and turned to face the man she loathed more than she ever thought possible. 
“Well, I can't say this was fun, but it's done and we never have to see each other again, so there's that.”
Ben turned his head to sneer at her. “Well, I'm still seeing you now.” 
Y/N clenched her jaw as she turned and stomped away from the absolute asshole the rest of the world knew as Soldier Boy. 
From their first moment on set to their very last take, they'd hated each other. Everything Ben did pissed her off, every snide comment, every lude suggestion made her want to smack him till his ears rang.
She knew he felt the same. He'd told her numerous times, when she’d refused to sleep with him, that she was just a frigid bitch. 
“Women like you need to be fucked long and hard so you remember your place.” He'd growled at her after the last time he'd cornered her and tried to fuck her in her trailer. He'd stormed out unsatisfied, slamming her trailer door off its hinges. 
That's how it had been the entire six weeks of shooting. 
Y/N couldn't deny that the asshole was incredibly hot and she had definitely been tempted by him quite a few times. His face was so goddamn perfect and his lips were so wide and full she just wanted to suck on them like candy. 
And his body. Fuck!
Having been pressed up against him many times throughout filming she knew just how rock solid he was, how his muscles felt rippling beneath her hands, and it definitely left her wanting so much more. But she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right when he whispered dirty accusations in her ear.
“I know you're soaked for me, baby.” He told her one day on set. He leaned in towards her and inhaled deeply. “I can fucking smell it.”
He'd told her over and over that she was denying herself the best sex of her life. She'd scoffed at him and rolled her eyes which never failed to piss him off. But secretly, she thought he might actually be telling the truth.
But now she'd never know.
She sighed deeply as she continued to wait at the coat check for the girl to find her coat in the back and bring it out so she could leave the theater behind, along with the group of Hollywood phonies involved with the movie. 
Mostly though, she admitted, she wanted away from temptation.
She was desperate to leave because now that it was becoming real in her mind that her time with Ben was well and truly over, she was beginning to feel a kind of panic setting in - as though overwhelming disappointment was washing over her. 
She was coming to realize that actually, a part of her had hoped that he’d win their little war. A deep-down-dark part of her had wanted him to fuck her and emerge victorious. She hated admitting it, even to herself, but she'd never been so turned on by a man in her life. Her body flushed and her core muscles clenched just thinking of him.
She angrily rang the little bell on the desk a few times. She needed to get her coat and get the fuck out of here.
Suddenly the little blonde who worked behind the counter popped out from between two trench coats. Her face was all red and she seemed a bit loopy. She was grinning and giggling. “I can't…I can't find your coat. You should go back and look for yourself.”
She pressed a button under the desk and the door swung open. The girl ran out, leaving Y/N to stare after her in confusion. 
“What the fuck?” Y/N mumbled. She scowled and shook her head, slipping through the door before it clicked shut and relocked behind her. She pushed her way through the racks and racks of coats, soon becoming lost in a sea of wool and tweed.
Suddenly she felt a hand grab her wrist and pull her behind the last row of coats. There was a wide spot there between the coats and the back wall. And in that spot Ben slammed her back against the wall, thrusting a knee between her legs and holding both wrists stretched above her head.
He easily held her wrists in one hand, so his other one was free to wrap around her throat as his face hovered above hers. 
“Together again, baby.”
Out of habit Y/N pulled away from him, trying to free her wrists, but it was like trying to escape steel manacles.
“Why are you fighting what we both know you want?” He asked smugly. He dropped his hand from her throat and ran it down her body, reaching her stocking-covered thigh and squeezing hard. 
“What will I find if I tear these fucking pantyhose off? If I try to make you come on my fingers, are you gonna be dripping for me?”
Y/N felt her panties flood even more at his words, giving an answer to his very rhetorical questions. But she tried to pull her leg out of his grip and struggled against his hold. 
“Fuck off, you piece of shit!” She hissed at him. “I thought you were out of my goddamn life!”
Ben trailed his fingers further up her thigh and shook his head. “N’ah, gave that little blonde bimbo a hundred dollar bill and quick finger fuck to get her out of here. So I could have you all to myself at last.”
It occurred to Y/N that she should probably be a lot more afraid than annoyed. There was absolutely nothing stopping this Titan from holding her down and doing anything he wanted to her. 
But just like all the times before, she was frustrated, not scared. She knew he didn't want to take her. He wanted to get her. He wanted her to admit how badly she lusted after him. He wanted her to give in. 
He wanted to win.
To that end, he pressed his lips behind her ear and made her shiver. His fingers ran just under the hem of her little black dress. 
“I know how much you want me.” His voice was low and smooth in her ear. “I know you've probably spent hours and hours fantasizing about me throwing you down and fucking you stupid. Have you imagined that? Hmm?” He asked as he pulled down the thick strap on her dress and trailed his sinful lips across her shoulder.
“How do I fuck you in your fantasies, Y/N? Do I make you come on my tongue first? Or do I just bend you over and ram my fat cock into that dripping mess of a cunt?”
Y/N was still shaking her head, but she was panting now too. She wanted to keep telling him no, but her whole body thrummed a resounding yes. 
But it wasn't enough for him, he wanted her total surrender.
“Tell me, Y/N. How do you wanna be fucked? Slow and teasing or hard and pounding? Do you want me to fuck this gorgeous mouth of yours.” He paused to lick her lips open and a moan escaped her.
He smiled wickedly, but didn't relent. “In your dreams are you on your knees, baby? Are you taking my cock down your throat like such a good girl? Are you gagging on it?”
He raised his knee slightly, flexing the muscle and making it push against her core. She sucked in a ragged breath and then cried out harshly as he pulled back and then slammed it against her pussy, the ridge of muscle in his thigh pressing perfectly and making her roll her head back and forth on the wall, trying to deny how desperately she wanted him.
“Do you like that, my little slut? Do you like fucking yourself on my thigh? Yeah, you do, don't you? I know just how badly you want me to fuck you, how badly you wanna be reamed by a big fat cock. Need somebody to fuck you down good, don't you? Need to be fucked so hard you can't walk for a week.”
Y/N wasn't even trying to stop the sounds of pleasure sliding out of throat, she couldn't possibly manage it. But she still pulled uselessly against his grip, still wouldn't give in.
Ben's voice was deliciously dark and deep as he continued. “All you have to do is say the word, Y/N. Well, two words actually. Just say, ‘I surrender.’ and I'll fuck you so good, keep you coming and coming.”
Y/N bucked her hips forward, rubbing against his thigh once again. She opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off, but only pathetic, whimpering sounds came out now so she slammed it shut.
Ben sensed his victory in the air and he smiled darkly. “Just fucking say it, baby. We both know you want it, you're not fooling anyone anymore. So surrender and I'll take you where you stand, fuck you against this wall till your knees buckle. Fill every fucking hole and have you absolutely begging for more.”
It was the breaking point for Y/N. “Oh goddamn it. Yes. Okay. Do it.” She gasped, but it wasn't enough for Ben.
He pulled her away from the wall and spun her to face it. He let go of her wrists so he could collect them again behind her back. He tore the front of her dress down to her waist. She wore no bra and the cold cement wall felt rough against her bare tits when he pressed her against it.
He wrenched her tight dress up to bunch around her waist, shredded her pantyhose with his fingers before yanking her panties down and then freeing his cock from its confines.
He groaned as he slid it up and down through the wetness he’d known he’d find. He pressed the very tip to her entrance and stopped. He applied his weight and strength against her, so she couldn't move a muscle, couldn't push back on him, couldn't create any kind of friction for herself.
“This is it, little tease. You've been denying me for weeks and weeks now. Trying to make me believe you didn't want me. Well now my cock is just waiting to fuck you apart, ready to make you scream. So tell me bitch, do you surrender?”
Y/N felt her last thread of resistance fall away and she simply didn't care about pride anymore.
“Yes, goddammit, yes. I fucking yield, I surrender, whatever you wanna hear. Just fuck me, you asshole!”
With that auspicious capitulation, Ben didn't wait another second. He rammed himself deep, and then deeper into Y/N's cunt. He didn't wait for her first cry of pleasure to end before he pulled out and slammed back again, this time lifting her off the floor with the force of his thrust.
He smashed her up against the wall, holding her wrists tightly behind her and crushing her body against the cement as he fucked up into her over and over. 
The tip of his huge cock dragged across her sweet spot with every punishing thrust. He was relentless and perfect and Y/N could only pant and beg him not to stop. Soon she was falling over the edge harder than she'd ever fallen. He buried his fingers in her slick and rubbed her clit hard as he kept ramming himself into her so deep that Y/N knew no one would ever fill her the same way again. 
As he'd promised, he kept her coming and coming.
After one particularly powerful climax, Y/N felt as though her brain had liquefied, and was only vaguely aware of what was happening as Ben pulled out of her and shifted her away from the wall. He bent her double and dropped her wrists.
He spread her ass cheeks wide and spit on her before dragging slick up from her cunt on his fingers and coating the tight ring of muscle there. He pushed the tip of his middle finger in and groaned.
“Fuck this ass is tight. Have you ever been ass fucked, my little whore? My cock the first to breach it?”
Y/N gave a disjointed nod, gasping as he pushed his finger in further and spit on her again. “Yes. I've never.” The garbled words were all she could manage.
Ben hummed. “Fuckin’ love that I get to pop this cherry.”
He spread more slick and spit over her asshole as he continued to push in his thick middle finger, stretching her slowly.
“Okay, baby, this is gonna sting.” He warned as he positioned his cock at her back entrance. “I'm gonna go slow, but I'm gonna give you every inch. And I want you to take it all. Got it?”
Y/N bit her lip as her slick continued to leak down her thighs. “Yes, I wanna feel so full of you.” She panted, so far past the point of denial.
Ben grunted. “Fuck yes.” He pushed forward slightly and it definitely stung. Then he pushed further and it hurt. He stopped as he met resistance. “You need to relax baby. Don't fight me.” he guided her, stroking down her back. He put his hands back on her cheeks, spreading her ass wide again. 
“Play with your tits, flick your clit, let yourself enjoy the stretch and burn.” He advised. She did what he suggested and soon she was lost in pleasure again, moaning harshly. He pushed further into her ass, restraining himself from slamming into her as hard and deep as he wanted to. He'd rip her open if he did. So he continued to go slow and listened for her sounds of pleasure as he proceeded.
Finally he was pushed into her completely, buried so deep she felt like she might burst. 
“Good girl.” He praised, reaching around and swirling his finger around her clit while she squeezed her own tits hard. 
“I'm gonna move now. I'll start as slow as I can, but I'm gonna wanna speed up soon. Think you can handle me?”
Y/N nodded. “Yes. I can take it.” 
Ben slid three thick fingers into her cunt and she cried out. He grunted against her spine, and then bit her there, leaving marks. 
“This is how I've wanted you for so long, completely stretched, stuffed so full of me you can barely breathe.”
Y/N let out a keening moan and Ben pulled out of her ass slowly. Inside her pussy his fingers found her sweet spot and pressed there gently, tormenting her. He slid slowly in and out of her tight hole for a while stretching her and easing the way. 
Finally, when he couldn't hold back anymore, he pressed his fingers in circles against her g-spot making her explode and clench around his fingers.
As she rode her climax, Ben took the chance to slam in and out of her hard and fast, letting the scorching pleasure of her orgasm dull the pain of his huge cock slamming deep and rough into her ass.
Finally he pulled out completely and pushed Y/N down to the floor, leaving her on her knees. She looked up at him, fuck drunk and barely conscious as he pumped his cock.
“Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.” Ben ordered her through gritted teeth. She obeyed immediately and he tapped his heavy cock against her tongue. “Suck it.” He growled.
Y/N closed her lips around him, sucking hard as she gagged on his thrusting cock. 
Finally Ben's hips stuttered and he grabbed the back of her head so he could bury his cock deep down her throat. 
He came with a roar and Y/N realized if there were any other people coming to get their coat, they could likely hear everything. But gone along with her pride, was her ability to feel embarrassment. All she wanted was for Ben to keep fucking her. Forever.
He pulled out of her mouth, letting cum and spit dribble onto her tits and her tattered dress. He took pride in the way she was completely broken in now. He knew after this he could fuck her whenever he wanted to; she'd never say no again.
Y/N tried to come back to reality, but her brain was buzzing and her body was throbbing, sore and stiff, but already aching for him again.
Ben tucked away his dick and zipped himself up, before he grabbed a coat. It wasn't hers, but she didn't protest as he wrapped her up in it, covering the torn dress and cum stains. 
“Come on, my little cock tease. Let's get you back to my hotel. There are still so many ways I wanna fuck you.” He knew what the answer would be, but his ego asked the question anyway. “You gonna fight me on it? Or are you finally ready to admit this is what you've wanted all along?”
A long distant voice echoed in her head telling her she should be fighting this, but it was faint and easily ignored. She nodded and stopped to pull him down into a kiss. 
“Fuck yes, asshole. I permanently surrender.” 
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Jensen RPF and Any/All Other Jensen Characters:
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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:
@kazsrm67
@slut-for-evans-stan
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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:
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vase-of-lilies · 1 year
Text
A Hard Week
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❀ Mommies!WandaNat x Little!Reader (F)
❀ Stress, MD/LG themes, slight coercion but good coercion, baby talk, little reader, slight psychotic break but just a breakdown, crying, cuddling, poly relationship
❀ Request: A fic where reader is having a really bad week and just breaks down one day because she’s so anxious and stressed. Wanda and Nat see this and takes the time out to help her get little and let her relax. 
❀ A/N: Request sent in by @fragilepuppi! Thank you for your kind words, and I am thinking about moving the toy lion, the scarlet witch and the tiny wardrobe to Tumblr again! But thank you for the super kind words and thank you for reblogging and being so interactive with my stories:) Gif by me:)
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Finals week. The dreaded week in college where professors become serious, strict, and pushy. The week where they don’t care about your mental health, only your grades. You, an overachiever is their most vulnerable target for pushiness. If they say to redo it, you don’t ask why, you find what you did wrong on your own and fix it yourself. Feeling like an inconvenience if you ask for help. 
It was taking a toll on you, and Wanda and Nat could tell. You would shut yourself in your room for hours on end, studying and taking notes like a machine. But you aren’t a machine, you needed to eat, drink, shower, and sleep. And you did none of that. You pushed your own needs away to keep your head in the game to get a good final grade. It was your last year after all, before you got your degree!
Every hour, Wanda or Natasha would come in with a new glass of water and some snacks wanting to make sure that you were getting what you need. But to their disappointment they found a full plate and a half drunken cup of water, the ice fully melted and condensed onto the outside of the cup. As your music blasted into your headphones, they could only do so much. They would give you a kiss, and watch you for a few minutes before closing your door and waiting for the next hour to arrive. 
“Im really worried about her, she is pushing herself to the limit and we haven’t seen our little girl in a while.” Wanda says to Nat as they cuddle on the couch. They were so worried about you, and only wanted to see you happy and not stressed. Natasha agrees, sighing as she holds Wanda to her chest. 
“I know hon, I just want to scoop her up and hold her until she falls asleep. There are more empty coffee cups in her trash than empty water bottles. This week is killing her.” 
Wanda sighed into her girlfriends shirt and Watched the slideshow of pictures that filled the TV screen when it turned off. The pictures of you three made her smile. Your eyes were bright and full of emotion, not tired and emotionless. Your smile was genuine, not a simple acknowledgment of Wanda or Nat when they come into your room. 
“I hate how much she loves to work. She works too hard, and I don’t know how to help her. I know this week is important to her, but even with the coffee she still looks exhausted. I want our little girl back.” Natasha nods and kisses Wandas forehead, and thinks of a plan to help you take a break. 
What the women were not expecting was you to come out of your room. Tears were pooled in your eyes and you looked so tired. They sat up a little bit and looked at each other, knowing that they need to bring their little out of her shell. “Hi Angel, its good to see you out of your room.” Wanda says, reaching out her hands to you. 
As you see them happy to see you, the dam breaks and you let out a small sob as tears fall down your cheeks. Wanda gently pulls you to sit in between her and Nat and she rubs your back to comfort you. 
“Oh angel, shh, its ok, your mommies are here.” Wanda whispers, looking to Nat with the look. She reaches into the drawer next to the couch and brings out your teddy bear pacifier. She doesn’t push it on you just yet, wanting you to come out when you felt ready. 
“Doll, can you tell us what’s wrong?” Natasha asks you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 
“I- I just can’t t-t-take it anymore. Mr. Jordan j-just wants to see me suffer. He doesn’t want m-me to succeed.” Your tears fall onto your shirt, and you clench your fists in your lap. “He told me to redo a paper four times, and I still can’t tell what’s wrong with it. I ran it th-through grammar check after grammar check and he just throws it in his digital trash bin like its a line scribbled by a 2 year old. I- I want to quit school, Im so done!” 
Wanda looks down at you with sad eyes, and says “Its alright Angel, can you tell mommy what you need?” She tries to coax you into your little space, knowing you need it more than they do. Natasha lays you back on the couch and cups your cheek. “You can trust us, doll. Can you talk to your mommies so we can help?” 
Their voices become a little higher, the type of tone they talk to you with when you go into your little space. You subconsciously took note of this, and the little voice inside your head whispers for you to let go. You curl in on yourself as you let your little space take over. 
“Wanna cuddle... M-maybe baf?” Your pronunciation is a little wonky, now that you are falling into your little space by the second. Nat smiles and shows you your paci. Your eyes light up and you happily open your mouth as she puts the binkie to your lips. Wanda smiles and kisses your forehead as you lay against her, Natasha pulling you both into her lap on the big couch. 
“Such a good little doll, your mommies got you, you’ll be ok.” Natasha whispers, running her fingers through your tangled hair, being careful not to pull too hard on getting the knots out. Wanda gently tickles your arm to relax you, and your eyes become heavy. 
“Seepy, so seepy…” You whisper passed the pacifier in your mouth, and Natasha looks down at you. “Sleep little doll, we’ve got you, and you’re in a safe place. Not even mean Mr. Jordan can get you here.” She smiles at your little giggle, knowing that your professor is your biggest enemy when you are little. 
As the two women calm you down and wipe your tears, Wanda uses her telepathic powers to start the bathtub from the couch. Your ears perk at the sound of the running water, but you fall back asleep in her arms. “We’ll get you in the bath when you wake up, doll. Ok?” You nod in your sleep, sniffling every now and then but finally able to calm down in your mommies arms. 
It was just what you needed in the hardest and most stressful week of your college life. Relaxing in your girlfriend's arms in a mental place that makes you feel safe. You are so grateful for them, and couldn’t thank them enough. Well, maybe when you are back in your big space you could find a way to thank them. For now, you are happy and getting better, just as your mommies wanted to help you. 
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