#hes not even staying in town for long?????? like until sunday??????????? and yet??????? no one fucking?????? is saying anuthing to me?????

[hairydykecunt]

i think it’s very silly asking to borrow money from me after i lent a lot already and have been mentioning how little money i have 👍 like super silly 👍 can you think for once 👍👍 can you please 👍👍👍👍 and then basically be like nvm i’m good i borrowed the money from someone else 👍👍👍 and lowkey you were definitely supposed to be invited to hang out but we’re lowkey ignoring u bc we hate you 👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍

[benedictscanvas]

coat stays on - remus lupin x reader

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: it’s just sickly sickly fluff my loves

a/n: @burnthoneydrops encouraged me to post this weeks ago and honestly i totally forgot about it but she’s wonderful and i can’t deny her!! i hope you enjoy, it’s the first i’ve written for remus so i’m a little conscious of it! i’ve also just opened up requests and you can see the characters i’ll write for here, please send in all the fluffiest fluff your hearts can think of <3

- - -

If your hand was starting to feel a little clammy in the crook of Remus’ arm, you weren’t saying anything. The streets were lined with market stalls and lots and lots of people, more importantly, and you were pretty sure if you let go of him right now you might never see him again.

“Doing alright sweetheart?” he asked, leaning his head down to your ear so you’d hear him properly because the man refused to raise his voice even a little, “Still with me?”

You squeeze him tighter to you and rest your head on his arm briefly rather than answering. The two of you had long since lost the others in the crowd, likely because you weren’t clinging to them as you did Remus. It would make you feel silly if it didn’t make you feel ten times better.

It had been Lily’s idea to venture out into the Sunday markets in town, but she clearly hadn’t thought about the timing. Just days before Valentine’s Day and it was packed, almost shoulder to shoulder as you traversed the street. But the 5pm February darkness had enveloped the cobblestones and most of the stalls had decided to illuminate their wares with pretty fairy lights on strings, wrapped around the poles. All kinds of colours. There was a helter skelter a little ways down that was lit up in warm gold.

Despite struggling with the sheer volume of people, Lily had been right that it would be something you’d enjoy.

Remus steers you towards a stall with a blue and white striped roof, filled with fudge of every flavour you can think of. He’s quiet as he stares at them all in turn, but when his eyes land on your favourite, you watch him smile and point it out to one of the sellers.

“That’s not fair,” you murmur, nudging him with a sharp elbow, but either he doesn’t hear you or he ignores you. To get your own back, you signal to the other seller and ask for Remus’ favourite in return.

“Here we are,” he says, handing you the paper bag once you’re a little away from the stall. You’re smug as you hand him one right back. He looks inside before he pouts at you and its adorable. He’s adorable.

“Thank you,” you grin and he rolls his eyes but still thanks you back. Then he points over your shoulder, where the buskers are playing, to the little tables for resting shoppers. There’s an empty one. The two of you share a brief look before you scurry over to claim it. When you sit across from him, you have to let go of his arm and it feels all wrong.

Until, of course, he shuffles his chair around the table so you’re sitting next to each other instead, facing the band.

You’re both content to nibble on your respective fudge for a while, listening to the music, but Remus breaks the comfortable quiet.

“I’m sorry we lost the others,” he says, face close to yours in a way that makes your chest ache, “I know you and Lily were looking forward to this together.”

He’s right in one way, because you were. But it was also inevitable that you’d only get half of Lily’s evening and that James would get the other, something you were thrilled about, honestly, if it meant that during that other half you got Remus.

You couldn’t quite tell him that, yet, so you settled for the next best thing.

“Sirius was in one of his moods,” you shrug, “I think we’ve come out of this one on top.”

Remus doesn’t laugh. You find it quite hard to make him laugh and you used to be conscious of it. You’ve since found that the little smile he does towards his lap is even more gratifying, like he’s holding in a belting laugh out of something that looks like fondness.

He’s doing it now, bottom lip caught by his teeth.

“Right as always,” he muses, looking back up at you, soft as ever. You struggle to keep the awe from your face.

“I am often right,” you whisper back, breaking off another chunk of fudge and popping it into your mouth, “It’s really pretty here at night. Shame about the people.”

“They’re awful, aren’t they?” Remus says, only joking a little, “Although, I’d rather you didn’t come here at night when no one’s around, hm?”

You nudge him again just because you can. He catches your elbow as if punishing you but all he does is run his hand down from your forearm to your hand to see if you’re cold.

“Mr Protective, you are. As if I’d want to come here on my own, idiot.”

“You’re cold,” he says instead, mutters it like he’s talking to himself as he squeezes both your hands in his own. You wonder if he even heard you call him an idiot like he was your favourite person on the planet.

“It’s an evening in February, lovely, of course I’m cold.”

You watch his pink-tinged cheeks to see if the blush deepens at your best name for him, but you can’t tell if it’s just from the chill in the air. He starts unbuttoning his coat, leaning forward in the chair to take it off.

“Woah, slow down there Rem,” you insist, holding your hands out to him to stop him, “I am fine. Since when do you worry about me so much?”

He doesn’t answer straight away but he does put his arm back into his coat. He’s thinking about what to say, something you’ll always let him do, but it means he’s going to answer seriously. It’s worrying when you’d just been teasing him.

“I always worry about you, I think. Absentmindedly. Wondering if you feel alright, if you’re comfortable. You haven’t looked very comfortable this evening.”

He doesn’t lie to you, ever, but you’re pretty sure that’s the most honest Remus has ever been with you. He can’t even look at you either, just staring at the floor and scuffing his shoe against the chair leg.

“Remus…”

“I don’t like you cold. And I don’t like to think of you alone. Sorry. I know you don’t need looking after like that.”

And he sounds heartbroken enough to break your heart.

“No, I don’t need looking after,” you confirm softly, because it’s true. He’s always said you’re the most independent person he knows. But you still wind your arm through his and tug him into your side, “I’d quite like it if it’s you, though, I think. If you’ll let me return the favour.”

It’s always the returning that he’s not so adept with. Your affection and your time and your energy are all things he struggles to see he deserves. It’s mostly why you worry about him too.

“Don’t take your coat off for me though,” you warn, putting your head on his shoulder, “You idiot.”

This time he definitely hears you and he must hear how utterly smitten that word is. He’s your idiot. He has to know it by now.

“Okay. Coat stays on,” he murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your crown and then place his chin there, gentle as ever, “Also, I lied. I’m very glad we lost the others, by the way. Not sorry at all.”

So maybe he did lie to you sometimes. It was a lie you didn’t mind, even if you’d pretend to.

“Yeah? Why’s that now?”

He slowly nods his head until his nose is nuzzling you instead of his chin, and you feel another feather light kiss, this one near your ear.

“Like you lots. Even more than them,” he breathes, and you try not to melt into him then and there.

“Oh lovely,” you whisper, “Like you lots too.”

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Lovely Lady May

Happy Sunday everyone! Shout out to the anon who asked for this, sorry it took me so long I am terrible at writing endings… Hope you enjoy!

Pairings: Danny Wagner X fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ only!! Minors you don’t even want to look this direction. Breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, oral (fem rec), lotsa dirty talk, food play, some persuasion if you see it that way, some plot, little editing

Word count: 6k

Danny Wagner. You’d had your eye on him for quite some time. He was perfect; thick head of hair, broad and sturdy frame, good facial bone structure. Yeah, he would do. Once you had decided it was him all that was left was to figure out how to approach him, win over his favor, get him to agree to what you wanted.

You knew Danny Wagner, had known him for years much like everyone knew everybody in this tiny Midwest town you’d all grown up in. He was a funny kid in high school, you never paid him much attention though admittedly you often had too much preoccupying your time back then.

In present time much of that distraction was gone. The youth did tend to leave this town while they could, leaving behind only those who had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do but stay home and find work. That’s exactly what you had done, in the years after high school you had opened a bakery in the tiny square downtown where all the wandering tourists from the next town over stopped for some gas along the way or found a cheaper place to stay.

Rent in town was cheap, that’s how you’d managed to secure your loft just above the bakery. It was small, quaint, but you had spent the last six years happily alone here making it your home. Happily that was until about a year ago when you decided that all you had in life just wasn’t enough anymore.

It started with seeing old friends finally coming back to visit family after settling down. Most of them had gotten married, and more than a few were already having kids.

It was the holiday season and you were up to your elbows in flour and sugar, scrambling to get all your orders done while also keeping the bakery itself stocked for the walk-in customers. Your high school best friend was in town, you’d almost forgotten until she walked through the door of the shop, one arm pushing the heavy glass door open while the other cradled a small bundle.

She had a baby, not even six weeks old yet, still wrinkly and warm and smelling like the sweet treats you made day in and day out. You spent the next three days visiting with her while she was in town, each time immediately plucking the babe from where it slept and placing it right in your arms. That’s when the baby fever started.

You thought it would go away, wanting a baby wasn’t exactly in the cards for you right now considering your last relationship ended the summer after senior year. As the months passed on though, you found yourself staring longingly at each little child that walked into your shop, eyes round and wide with excitement as they peered through the display cases of cookies and cakes.

It had only been a couple of months since you actually decided on going through with your plan. In fact you nearly considered forgetting it all together until you found the right person for the job.

Danny Wagner. He never left town either, opting to stay home and help his family with their business. An apple orchard right at the edge of the city limits.

You knew the place well since opening your shop, preferring to purchase local, organic, ingredients whenever you could.

At this time of year, weekly with the orders you placed from the orchard, your crates of freshly picked apples in their vibrant green, shades of red and orange, and yellows came delivered by Danny.

“A slice of apple pie today?” You called from over your shoulder as you transferred the dozen of honeycrips from their wooden crate to the large stainless sink in the back of the bakery to be washed and prepped later.

“If you’re offering” Danny replied with a smile on his face, a smile you’d grown quite accustomed to seeing when you started giving out a slice of apple pie after every delivery. It only seemed fair he got a piece considering it was his apples you used, and they really did make a difference.

With the crate cleared you pulled the wash towel from your apron and gave your hands a good drying before untying the cotton cloth from around your waist and setting it aside. “Do you have a minute?”

“Umm sure” Danny set the extra boxes of things you’d ordered on the counter next to your apron, curious about what you had in mind.

“I’m actually tweaking the recipe a little bit. Was wondering if you wanted to come upstairs and try it out for me?” You voice sounded calm and resolved, but you hoped Danny couldn’t see the slight tremble in your hands as you waved him over to the unassuming stairs that lead directly up to your loft.

Danny followed quietly, he had obviously never been up here before so he was busy taking in the surroundings when you reached the top. It gave you a bit of relief that he wasn’t paying too much attention to how you anxiously fluttered around the small kitchenette.

“I never realized you lived up here” Danny mentioned as his eyes scanned the open space, the only privacy it offered was a door to your bedroom and a door to the bathroom, everything else was right in sight from where he sat.

“What? You thought I could afford a business and my own place all on my own?” You joked. That was the normal atmosphere between you two, a lot of joking, a little flirting maybe if you squinted, but mostly just kindness.

“Well I’d say you’re doing pretty well for yourself regardless” Danny replied, finally turning his attention to you alone when he heard the sound of a knife cutting against a porcelain pie dish.

“Thanks”. You set the plate down in front of him, letting your hand brush across the top of his shoulders as you went back for the fork, waiting patiently as he took the first bite.

“Wow, if I didn’t already think you made the best damn apple pies I’ve ever had in my life, I sure do now”. He tried another larger taste, turning the fork sideways to slide through the flakey crust and scoop some of the filling into the perfect bite. A look of pure satisfaction washed over his face as he chewed. No matter how often he had your pies he did always seem to really enjoy them and it always made your day.

“So Danny…” you trailed off, trying to maintain your resolve to your goal as he continued on eating. “You would say we’re friends right?”

“Of course” he quickly replied after swallowing.

“So I can ask you something in confidence? Well, it’s a favor really”.

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a charming half smile, one that made you swoon just a little if you were completely honest with yourself. That was besides the point though, you had him here right where you wanted him and now you needed to focus. “Have you ever thought about having kids?”

Danny’s smile faded, though he didn’t seem upset, just curious again about where exactly this was going. “Sure, I have a little” he answered truthfully, adding more after a bit of consideration “I do want some, yeah”.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently” you admit, leaning against the counter so your still unsteady hands would have something to grip onto. You knew this was a big ask and it could go over very badly, but you had to try. “I want one, sooner rather than later. Problem is I’ve looked into IVF, it’s hella expensive and I don’t know if you know but owning a business doesn’t come with very good health insurance”.

It had all made sense in your head when you planned it out, finding a man to ask to be willing to make a baby with you, but when you tried to explain your thoughts out loud they started to sound less and less rational. Still, you pursued since you seemed to have kept his attention for this long. “I’ve been saving up for almost a year, and I have a friend that’s going to give her used baby stuff to me. All I need is someone willing to help me out…”

Danny was quiet again, his eyes falling to the crumbs on his plate for a moment as he thought. “Are you saying you want me to get you pregnant?”

You pressed your thighs together as you clenched around nothing. It wasn’t besides either of you exactly how that would have to come about, but even though the sex would be purely transactional it didn’t help that you’d come to find Danny extremely attractive and the way he spoke was already doing things to you that you weren’t prepared for.

“Yes, that is what I’m asking”. It was getting harder and harder to sound confident, your nerves finally taking completely over as you scrambled to plead your case. “I wouldn’t expect anything from you obviously. I’ll have plenty of support from my family and I’m looking at getting a bigger place soon. No one will ever have to know you’re the biological father”.

Danny stood slowly and your heart sank, expecting he was preparing to leave because your idea was actually crazy. Instead he only stood there, his height exceeding yours by a few inches but the way he awkwardly slouched a little and rubbed at his bare upper arms made him seem less intimidating and more approachable.

You took the step forward, reaching out for one of his hands to cradle in your own, a simple touch you hoped would show him how grateful you were for his consideration. “You don’t have to give me an answer now, but would you think about it? For me?”

With the closer distance between you two now you could see the way Danny’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. His eyes fell down your body for a moment as a shuddering breath escaped him. “When,” he began, shaking his head softly and bringing his gaze back up to meet yours dead on, “when do you want to try this?”

Your heart felt like it stopped, was he seriously agreeing? Danny was always a nice guy, a people pleaser, a hard worker, and an all around joy, but even then a part of you still expected him to at least politely decline.

“I’m ovulating right now actually” you blurted out. Yeah, that was a real mood setter.

Danny chuckled, the sweet sound jumpstarting your drive. “Right now?” His dark brows raised in playful question, his hand in yours turning over to sneak up your arm and pull you closer. “Are there any rules in this agreement?”

“Rules?” You mumbled, the feeling of his fingers gripping into your waist making your knees already feel weak.

“I mean is this just a one time thing and if it works it works, if it doesn’t it doesn’t? I’m not going to stand here and lie to you by saying I haven’t thought about being with you like this”. Danny seemed a little shy to admit his secret, but it only ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. “I mean maybe not exactly like this, but you know what I mean”.

“Really?” You breathed, allowing your hands now to come up and rest on his shoulders, playing with the torn up hem of his cut off sleeves. “I never knew”.

“Well now you do” he smiled again, dipping his head down so that the very tip of his nose brushed against your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered closed, preparing for the kiss you expected, but Danny only moved to whisper into your ear. “So I ask again, are there any rules?”

You thought about it for a moment, coming up with something on the spot since, surprisingly, you’d seemed to have thought of everything else but this. “For now this stays between us, we act perfectly casual around each other”. Danny nodded, finally pressing a warm plush lipped kiss to the spot behind your ear. You tilted your head back, giving him more access to roam across your neck. “While we’re doing this, no one else”.

“There is no one else” Danny mumbled against your pulse point, his other hand coming up to thread his fingers through your hair.

“Good. And most importantly, no pulling out”.

In one swift blurry motion, Danny grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up, walking back to the counter where he plopped you back down and immediately connected his lips to yours. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as you kissed him back hungrily and desperately.

“Did you wear this for me then?” Danny asked as he slipped a hand between your bodies, sliding his palm up your inner thigh and underneath the hem of your floral dress. You nodded, biting your bottom lip as you leaned back to watch him explore.

“Easy access” he grinned as the tips of his fingers found the lace trim of your panties, and you gasped when he suddenly pressed his thumb to your heat, smirking at how wet you already were.

“Danny” you whined at how delicious the friction was even with the thin layer of cotton still in the way. “Are you going to play with me or are you going to give me what I want?”

“Oh I’m going to play with you” he chuckled again, his fingers pulling your panties aside to gather up your slick. “If we’re going to do this it might as well be fun right?”

Your brows furrowed, on one hand you wanted him to take this seriously. Having a baby was all you wanted right now and you were clearly prepared to do whatever it took. On the other hand, you thought he was right. You were sure you had read somewhere that the better the quality of the sex was, the higher the chances of conception were. So what was the harm?

With Danny still smirking at you as he circled his fingers around everywhere but where you really wanted him, you grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him back into a searing kiss. Danny groaned against your mouth and finally plunged two of his fingers inside, making your mouth fall open with a moan at the unexpected stretch.

“Yeah? That feel good?” Danny questioned in a faintly demeaning tone that made your brain go fuzzy for a few seconds.

You held onto his bicep tightly, the shiny polish coincidentally named ‘apple red’ on your nails contrasting with the way his skin turned pearly white under your grip. “Fuck, yeah that does feel good” you agreed with the breath in your lungs slipping away with each thrust of his fingers deeper into you. “But I bet you’d feel even better”.

“Patience sweetheart” Danny smiled, slowing his movements to give you room to breathe. “In time. But first…” he glanced around the counter you were still spread out on, his eyes zeroing in on a bowl covered in plastic wrap right within reach.

One hand with his fingers still buried deep inside you, Danny pulled the bowl closer to look at what was inside. “Is this the new recipe?” He questioned, seeing the thick caramel colored filling.

It was ridiculous he was concerned with that at this moment, but you played along anyway, taking the break to regain your composure so that you could continue to rival his attitude. “It is, did you like it? Though I have to admit it was mostly part of the plot to get you up here”

“Figured” Danny chuckled, shaking his head again. “I did, but do you mind if I ruin this batch?”

“What?” You were confused, not following his train of thought at all. “No, I don’t mind?”

Without another word he retreated his fingers only to lift the plastic off the bowl and dip inside. The look of pure shock you had on your face when he licked his fingers clean of both the pie filling and your juices mixed together had to be entertaining, because he chuckled even harder and leaned in to give you a taste.

While he kissed you, tongue lapping into your mouth, Danny found the buttons to the front of your dress and slowly undid them one by one, allowing the flowy fabric to slip open and expose your chest. “No bra? You’re making this too easy”.

“You prefer a challenge?” You giggled in return.

“No, this is good”. Danny leaned back, admiring your tits from a little distance before sticking his fingers back into the bowl beside you and smearing some of the filling onto your left nipple.

When his mouth connected with your chest you grabbed at his hair. Before you had always wondered how soft it would be, and now with your fingers weaving tightly through dense curls you were glad to say it was indeed very soft and smelled woodsy-sweet.

Once he had you nice and clean, your nipple now perky and covered in a sheen of saliva, Danny lathered up the right side with enough filling this time that it was dripping down your breast and onto your stomach. Danny held eye contact with you as he lowered himself, his tongue coming out to lick up the mess he’d made and then latched onto your nipple again, humming in satisfaction as it hardened up just as the other had.

Content with getting you cleaned off again, Danny lowered himself even further until he was on his knees before you, his hands diving back up your dress to find the waistband of your panties so that he could pull them off this time.

You braced yourself on your hands against the countertop and lifted your hips slightly to help, but before you could fully sit back down Danny wrapped his hand around your hip and pulled you right to the very edge. For extra support he let your legs come to rest on his shoulders, his face disappearing between your thighs as his mouth met your center.

Your back arched and your head met the cabinets with a dull thud as you held your moan in this time. Just like with his fingers, Danny didn’t waste any time in letting his tongue enter you, it’s pointed tip reaching as far as it could go. His nose pressed against the hood of your clit and you couldn’t help the groan that did come out when he started to shake his head side to side.

“Danny you’re gonna make me cum like that” you whined, sure that he could feel the way your legs started to shake and threatened to clamp shut around him.

Danny spoke quickly so that he wasn’t parted from you long enough to lose how close you were to your high. “Give it to me. I want to taste how sweet you are before I fill you up”.

“Ah fuck!” you cried out just as the band that had been tightening in the pit of your stomach snapped. You were unsure what had ultimately done it, the way he worked harder to get you there, or the salacious words spilled so freely from his dirty mouth. Either way your mind was still spinning with the after effects of your orgasm when he stood up and started unbuttoning his pants.

“Are you ready for me then?” He asked as you watched him through hooded eyes while he pulled himself from his boxers, stroking his hardened length a few times to smear his precum- not that he needed the extra lubricant, you were dripping at this point.

“Get over here and give it to me already”.

Danny clicked his tongue, but he moved back between your legs anyways, using the grip on his shaft to run the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “Still impatient. I’ll put a baby in you sweetheart don’t you worry”.

Before you could say anything else to counter his cheeky remark, Danny thrust his hips up into you until his base met your entrance. You thought you might have cum again just then by how wet you were around him, but you knew it was only because he turned you on more than you’d ever been before.

“God! Right there!” You threw one arm around his shoulders, your legs hooking back around his waist as his hips snapped back and forth knocking you against the cabinets. It was a good thing you’d flipped the sign in the window downstairs from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ when Danny arrived today, otherwise you were sure any customers who had stumbled in at this time would’ve heard you getting your world rocked above them.

“It’s gonna feel so good to cum in you” Danny groaned. You were unsure if he was still speaking to you, or if he was just rambling on to himself now by the way his voice came out breathy and strained. He had hands on your thighs, using his grip as leverage to keep his upwards thrusts just hard enough that you were seeing stars as you closed your eyes and let your head fall back.

Before long you were feeling like you were going to let go again, and he could feel the way your walls fluttered and clenched around him. Danny came first, slamming into you once more and then you felt the flood of warmth, the wild twitching of his length buried deep inside as he unloaded in you just like you’d asked.

“Hold on, let me look at you”. Danny hooked his thumbs under your dress and bunched it up at your waist then leaned back as he slowly began to slide out, still hard and throbbing. He watched in awe as his release started to dribble down, a sight he’d never had the pleasure of seeing before.

“Danny” you whimpered, still wound up from being so close to cumming yourself again.

He knew exactly what you wanted, and he could have teased you about it, but he wanted to make sure you were taken care of. Pushing in again, he fucked his cum back into you a few times until you were shaking as your second orgasm rocked through you.

“How are you doing?” The kindness in Danny’s voice returned and he helped tuck your tousled hair behind your ears as he kissed gently at your cheeks.

“Good…” you sighed, your body starting to relax again, “I’m doing good, thanks”.

“So do you think it’s gonna work?”

You thought maybe you could hear a bit of hopefulness, but you shook it off as your own will manifesting. “I guess we will find out in a couple of weeks”.

“You’ll let me know?” He was genuine when he asked, almost like he was afraid you’d choose to go through this alone even though you’d assured him you’d have plenty help.

“Sure” you nod your head and he helped you off the counter before retrieving your underwear from the floor. You didn’t even bother putting them back on, a shower was definitely within order before getting back to work.

“Well, see you around then?” He lingered by the door to the stairs, glancing around your apartment a few more times.

“Yeah Danny, I’ll see you around”. You held the door open for him, confident he could make his way back down to the large kitchen at the back of the bakery and out the way he always came in. “Again, thank you”.

He offered one last smile that warmed your heart to the core, “don’t mention it”.

Three days passed and you went about your life like normal. Of course you wanted to believe that it had worked, that you were cooking up your own little bun in the oven as you loaded trays of cookies into the ones at the shop.

Danny was always around, he made deliveries in town nearly everyday, usually always about noon, but today it was nearly six in the evening when the bell to the front door rang. You turned around, your face lighting up when you saw it was Danny paying you a visit.

“Closing soon?” He asked as he watched you cleaning up, broom in hand and a damp rag around your shoulder with glass cleaner stuffed in your pocket.

“In a little while. What can I do for you?” You set the broom aside, but finished buffing off the tiny fingerprints on the display case, smiling at the memory of the little boy who had excitedly picked out a chocolate muffin. If you had a boy would he like chocolate as much as this little one had? Or maybe a girl who liked strawberry.

“My dad said you hadn’t placed an order for next week yet. He wanted to know if he needed to set anything aside for you”.

“Oh, right”. A part of you had wished Danny was stopping by specifically to check in on you, but even if he was just here on business it was nice to see him. “Sorry, I’ve had a lot on my mind recently. Let me go check in the back, I’m sure I can make a list right quick”.

Danny had shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling a little out of place in your shop now even though he’d been here half a million times over the last few years.

You sensed his trepidation and exhaled through your nose. “Hey, I made some lemonade this morning. Want some?”

A bit of his awkwardness subsided, his charmful half smile returning as he followed you into the bakery kitchen. You finished off the picture of lemonade with two glasses, one for you and one for him, and started the search through your cabinets. Honestly you really already knew what you needed to order, same as usual a dozen of honeycrisps, a dozen granny smith, a dozen gala, two pounds of walnuts, peaches and blackberries were about to be done for the season so you’d get whatever you could, and it was about to be that time of year to start harvesting some beautiful pumpkin for bread and pie and even roasted seeds. Even so you fiddled around just to keep Danny here for a bit longer, at least so he could enjoy his refreshment.

“How have things been up there at the orchard?” You asked, trying to make polite conversation as you took out a pen and paper and scribbled your order.

“Busy as always, weathers been beautiful this week though so I can’t complain much”. He took another sip of his lemonade. Looked like maybe he was trying to make it last as well.

We’re talking about the weather… you shook your head and he raised a questioning brow. “Actually,” Danny moved closer to where you stood, glancing at your paper like he hadn’t delivered that order to you plenty of times and had it practically memorized. “I wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to come over for dinner?”

“Dinner at the orchard? Like with your parents or something” you scoffed a little. You ask a man to creampie you one time and he wants to take you home to mom and dad.

“I mean we can invite them if you want” he chuckled himself, “but umm, no I was thinking it would just be us. I live in a townhouse not far away. Then maybe afterwards I can give you a little tour of the place”.

Danny’s hand boldly graced your lower back as he leaned in closer, his chest nearly making context with your shoulders. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking about you nonstop”.

“Thinking about me? Or about our last visit?” You countered, arching your back so that your ass pressed up against his front.

“Both” he sucked in a breath, his hand coming around to grip your hip, but he didn’t pull you any closer, just dug his fingers into the waistband of your skirt. How convenient you’d planned on wearing it today without even knowing he’d be stopping by.

“Well, I’ve got another half an hour before closing. I suppose I can meet you there”. Danny had agreed to your favor, the least you could do was accept a dinner invitation.

Danny lowered his head and placed a kiss at the nape of your neck before taking a step back and composing himself. “I don’t mind waiting”.

“Suit yourself” you shrugged, tearing the page you had written on out of your notebook and folding it in half a few times. You turned around and approached him yourself and he looked excitedly expecting as you came chest to chest with him. “You’re going to help me close up then”.

Reaching around you stuffed the list into his back pocket then placed a chaste kiss to his cheek before returning to cleaning up.

With your belly full of dinner you stepped out of Danny’s truck, the kitten heel of your shoe coming into contact with gravel that broke way to lush grass as far as the eye could see becoming covered in a layer of leaves with the beginnings of the changing season. The air smelled crisp out here, earthy and sweet just like Danny’s beautiful curls.

You tried not to think of that now as he delightedly took your hand, guiding you off into the rows of apple trees that the property had earned its namesake for.

Danny whisked you around the place he’d called home his entire life, explaining to you exactly how growing apple trees worked, the science behind it, and even shared a few stories that had you giggling and taking his hand for more.

“Thanks for coming” he finished his tour with a walk through the barn that held all their order packing supplies. Crates that were easily recognizable as the ones Danny carried over his shoulder from his truck bed to your shop door, and piles of straw to stuff them with to keep the apples from bruising. A large table next to boxes stacked on boxes of mason jars ready to be filled and sent off to their eager recipients.

“Thanks for inviting me” you replied, moving to rest against the table. It was still early in the night, but you’d been up since six baking away before the shop opened, and you’d definitely worn the wrong shoes for this excursion. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always” Danny replied, keeping his distance for now, but staring longingly at you from across the open room.

“I’ve been thinking about you too. I quite enjoyed the last time I saw you”. The lights that were strung up in the pillars reflected in his eyes and you could’ve sworn you saw blush pinken his cheeks.

“That so?” He smirked, pushing off the pillar he had chosen to lean on.

“Was it not obvious?” You added, smiling as he made his way over to you again. “I mean I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I asked you for that, but you definitely delivered”.

“So,” He was right in front of you now, his eyes scanning over the length of your body as you tried to take some weight off your feet, “I know it’s only been a few days, but do you feel any different?”

You giggled, finding it cute that he wanted to know already. He seemed even more restless than you were to know if the fruits of your labor had produced. “No, nothing yet”.

“Well, maybe, if you want I mean, we could try again? For good measure?”

“Yeah?” You raised your brows and bit your lip, looking around to see if there was anything you should be weary of in the quiet barn. “Right now?” You matched the state of surprise he had when you’d asked him the same thing up in your apartment a few days ago.

“Everyone’s gone home for the night. The only thing left to worry about is how I’m going to focus at work when I remember fucking you on this table”.

“You’ll have to fuck me on this table first for that to happen Danny”.

He breached the last gap between you, cupping your face as your lips smashed together. Both of your hands went to work riding each other of as much clothing as possible, breaking the kiss only for your shirts to be peeled off and tossed somewhere to be retrieved later. Danny pulled you from your lounging position, hooking his thumbs into your skirt and panties together and pulling them down for you to step out of before lifting you back onto the table and connecting your mouths again.

You groaned as he worked to unbutton his pants, already aching to feel him inside you again. Danny parted from you to get his pants off, and when he returned he gripped your breasts, actually covered with a thin lacy bra this time, and pushed you back to lay against the polished wood.

“You’re going to be beautiful pregnant” Danny mused as he pressed kisses to your clavicle and chest.

“Danny please” you whined, reaching around to grab at his bottom, digging your blunt nails into the round of his asscheek.

“You want me to cum in you again?” He muttered against your neck, making his way up to tickle your ear with his nose and nip at your jaw. “Make sure you have my baby, hmm?”

You pulled him down, connecting your lips to his shoulder and then biting down to encourage him to hurry up already. When he entered you again the moan that ripped through you was muffled into his skin, but his voice echoed through the rafters as he quickly set a rough pace.

Danny pried your arms from him so that he could straighten up and get a good look at you from the way your tits bounced in time with his thrusts, to the way he disappeared so easily completely inside you. “Look at this pretty pussy, crying so sweetly for me”.

Your words were beside you, lost in a jumble in your head as the pleasure took over, but you held eye contact with him and nodded vigorously. Danny slowed for just a moment, spitting into his hand and easily finding your swollen sensitive clit with his fingers.

Your back arched off the table and you couldn’t hold back your cries anymore as Danny continued pounding into you and working his fingers at the same time. So close already, but it felt like long enough since the last time you’d had him.

With a newfound burst of energy, you gripped your chest, pinching your hardened nipples through the lace of your bra as your eyes fell shut and you felt your impending release building tight in your stomach. “Fuck Danny, I want to cum together. Please, I need to feel it!”

“Here it is sweetheart, just for you. Take it” he grunted as his hips staggered, and you whined his name one more time as your legs held him in place until both your orgsams were over.

“It definitely worked that time, had to” Danny chuckled as he helped you clean up as best he could.

“Danny?” You turned to him, your chest still feeling tight despite the rest of your body being weakened and wobbly as you stood from the table. “Do you think I’ll be a good mom?”

Danny looked surprised by your question, not that you had asked him of all people, but because there was still any doubt within you. He swallowed hard, trying to decide if what he wanted to say would be taking things too far, but ultimately deciding you guys had been so intimate already, what was a little feelings being added to the mix? “I think I wouldn’t want anyone else to mother one of my children”.

You blushed hard, moving to give him another grateful kiss. “You know, I think you’d make a great Dad too”.

@musicislove3389

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part I

Well, it happened... After trying to evade the hype for so long they finally got me 😂😂 This story has had me in a chokehold (haha, get it?) since I started toying around with the idea of it. Hopefully you guys enjoy it, let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for future chapters and/or Sleep Token one shots!

WARNINGS: None

Part II

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

Credit to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading, ily bb 💗💗💗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat with your feet propped up on the counter, one of the magazines you had yet to sell spread open on your lap. "Be fashion forward this fall." You read out loud to the empty store in a mocking tone as your eyes grazed over the pictures of chunky sweaters, jeans, and boring, brown leather boots. The bell over the door jingled as a customer entered the store, your eyes darted up, expecting one of your regulars. You were met with the sight of someone in a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over their head. 'Great,' you thought to yourself, 'just when I thought I was going to have an easy evening.' You watched the man carefully, waiting to see what exactly he was going to stick in his pockets. Now, you normally turn a blind eye to shoplifters up to a certain extent, everyone deserves to have something to eat. But, being an independently owned store you could only take so much of a loss on your inventory. To your surprise, the man didn't pick up a single item. He took his time looking over the contents of each shelf, his hands never leaving his sweatshirt pocket. "Can I help you find anything, sir?" His head turned slightly in your direction, but not enough for you to see his face.

"What time do you close?" You were caught off guard by his British accent, it was an uncommon occurrence to get outsiders in your small backwoods town.

"Eight o'clock." He nods his thanks and hurriedly exits your store, almost bumping into one of your regulars on the way out.

"Everything alright?" He asks as the strange visitor leaves your store.

"Do you know him?" You ask quietly, as if he would somehow be able to overhear you despite having rounded the corner of the building already.

"Yeah, he's one of those… those cultists that set up shop in the woods." He explains. You were a bit shocked at the realization. You had been seeing headlines in the local newspaper for months as curiosity rose around the small group of men that had built a few Cabins on the very edge of town. Reporters didn't dare venture into their camp for an interview, but that didn't stop them from snapping a few pictures from the safety of the treeline. Four cabins sat at each corner of a small clearing, a large fire pit dominated the center. From what you could make out they seemed to have some sort of root cellar and a lackluster garden, which would explain why you hadn't seen any of them in person until this afternoon. "You be careful, (Y/N). Freaks like that might just try to sacrifice you to some goat demon they worship." He warns. You can't help but roll your eyes at the outlandish statement.

"Mark, those boys haven't done a single thing to bother anyone since they got here. They've been out there for months, if they were going to take someone they would've done it by now." You argue.

He chuckles, "Trust me darlin', I hope you're right. But until then me and a lot of other folks around here plan on keeping a close eye on them. You'd do best to stay away from them."

"You think I can't take care of myself?" You challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Now, Miss (Y/N), you and I both know you'd beat my ass to next Sunday if that's what I was implying." The two of you shared a laugh. "I just don't want something bad to happen, that's all. These strange men show up out of nowhere one day and no one knows where they came from, hell none of us have ever seen their faces. They all wear these black masks, least that's what the reports are saying. You can never be too cautious."

"I'll take my chances." You smile politely in an attempt to get him off his soap box. "Now, I take it you're here for your pack of Marlboros."

"Yes ma'am, and an extra one for Donnie if you don't mind." He responds with a nod as he fumbles for his wallet in his back pocket.

"You got it boss." The rest of your evening was spent rather uneventfully, save for the fact that you would practically jump out of your chair every time the door opened. You glanced up at the clock, there was about twenty minutes left until you closed. "Maybe he decided to not come back." You shrug. Moments later an old, beat up pick up truck rumbled into the parking lot. You watched as the driver got out, his head dipped low to hide his face in the hood of his black sweatshirt. He pushes through the door, the jingle of the bell the only sound to cut through the tense silence. "Welcome back." You tried to sound friendly despite your unease. He nods at you in response, not saying a single word as he makes his way quickly and directly to everything he needs. He approaches the counter, unloading his arm load of supplies before taking a step back. "You got a name to go with those big, broad shoulders of yours?" You ask in a bit of a teasing tone, trying to do what you could to lighten the mood. He remained silent, despite the fact you couldn't see his face you couldn't escape the feeling of his piercing gaze. You opened a bag, carefully organizing his contents inside. "$18.75, sir." He slaps a twenty dollar bill on the counter, not even waiting for his change as he grabs his bag and flits out the door. You watched as he drove off, not sure exactly what you were supposed to make of that interaction. You had a similar occurrence every day for almost a week. He would come in, grab an armful of groceries, put down his money, and he left. You would try and greet him whenever he would come in your store, it was always met with a curt nod.

"Vessel." You froze as he finally spoke up. You looked up, your eyes met with 6 slits on an odd looking mask. "You can call me Vessel." You couldn't think of how to respond at first. He had barely acknowledged your existence before tonight, what had changed?

"Vessel… (Y/N)." You stick out your hand to shake his. "It's nice to finally meet you." You smile as his hands clap into yours.

"You're different from the other people we've run into from town." He remarks.

"The reporters?"

"Some of them, a few others we just happened to cross paths with." You could feel him studying you. "You don't seem scared."

"Vessel, you've been coming in here for over a week now. If you were going to try and hurt me you would've done it by now." You notice the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smile.

"I guess you have a point." He chuckles. You finish scanning his items and give him his total. He places the money down on the counter and picks up his bag.

"How come you never take your change?" You ask as he's almost out the door.

"I know you run this place by yourself, think of it as me tipping a small business." He flashes a brief, brilliant smile at you. You try to hide your shy smile by fixing up your register. "Oh, and (Y/N)?" You glance back up at him. "It's nice to finally meet you too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @herripinkle @mustluvecho @jumpcauseimfroggy (If you would like to be tagged for Sleep Token stuff let me know!)

[damiansgoodgirll]

i felt like i needed to write this as this is basically what it’s going on in my life with the guy i’m dating

damian priest x reader

reader is in her twenties! we need the age gap cause me and my “bf” have a huuuge age gap lol

fool me once

“i’m dating someone else…i just wanted to let you know” was what he texted you when you first met.

it pained you a little but in reality you didn’t even know him so you agreed of just staying friends.

he was happy about that, he liked you but not in the way you liked him back. you prayed every night you were the girl between his arms, you prayed he wouldn’t take that long to answer your text messages and you prayed every night that he would realise what he was really missing.

yes, you were friends and you liked the idea of having him in your life, even if he wasn’t your boyfriend.

in the end, he was a good person and you preferred having him as a friend than not having him at all.

one beautiful day he texted you that it was over. the girl he was dating was gone and that he was now more comfortable in seeing you.

you should have said no. you knew it wasn’t right for him to make you the second option but the crush you had for him was too strong and your brain couldn’t say no.

you agreed on that date. and everything went perfectly. he took you out for dinner, he paid for you, he took you to the cinema, he gently kissed you when he brought you back home.

everything was good.

and silently, in your mind, you finally said “fuck, something good is finally happening to me…”

you texted each other every single day and secretly you loved the attention he was giving you.

your friends didn’t like him. they said he was bad news. maybe because he was older than you, maybe because he chose you as his second option and not his first one or maybe because he was only using you in trying to forget her.

you knew all they said was true. deep down, you knew it but you didn’t want it to be real. you felt too good and too safe when you were with him that you thought for a second that all of your friends were jealous of you.

so a second date happened.

it was better than the first one.

he took you out of town on a beautiful but cold sunday night, you went to an amazing restaurant where he paid for you and let you enjoy your time together. the ride back home was amazing, you talked, you laughed and joked and before letting you go, he kissed you again, and again, this time it was more passionate and sensual and if it wasn’t for him, who had a show next monday, you would have invited him in.

you promised him that on the third date you would have offered him dinner.

a third date that never came.

you waited for him to remember it but when you got tired of waiting, you simply asked him. he said he was busy with work and in all honesty, you believed him.

he was a busy man, why would he lie?

he had a full career, a full time job. he was a grown ass man with his life and compared to him, you were just a girl in your twenties who’s in reality is a complete mess. you didn’t have a home to call 100% yours, you had only three real friends and you were always so busy that you barely see each others.

that’s when you realised how different you were.

you knew something was wrong the moment his text messages became slow, like he wasn’t texting you but just replying to your questions.

it came to a point where you got tired of that situation and asked him what was wrong.

“you know the girl i was daring before i met you…she came back…she told me she was sorry, that she knew she fucked up everything…i didn’t see her yet because i was not in the right mood but this made me think…” he texted you.

you felt your heart break.

everything was so good until it wasn’t.

you expected him to say that everything was fine, that he was just busier than usual, or maybe that he didn’t like you anymore. you were ready for that outcome. you weren’t ready to hear about her.

not what you imagined. not what you expected.

you knew, from the way he talked about her that he liked her…that he still likes her…and you knew that if he had to choose, he would choose her.

why would he choose you when you weren’t his first choice in the beginning?

“can we please talk about it? do you want to talk about it?” you texted him. you needed to know what he was thinking about the whole situation.

“not really…”

“okay…” you texted back “just to let you know, damian, i’m here in case you wanted to talk”

“i appreciate that…i just need time” he replied.

time.

time for what?

time for what when you already knew he would choose her.

you weren’t supposed to cry for him because he never was yours to begin with but you still cried. you cried every night before falling asleep. you cried when you saw he wasn’t replying to your text messages anymore. you cried because for the first time in your life you felt safe in someone’s presence.

and it wasn’t fair.

for you. knowing you would have given him all.

you’re still hoping that he would choose you, because, in the end, you didn’t make him suffer, you didn’t make him cry. you hoped that he valued those things.

he texted you good morning on a random tuesday morning and that little message made you hopeful.

of course, you texted him back, asking him if everything was okay.

it’s been three days and you’re still waiting for his response.

to be continued…

(if he answers)

[http-paprika]

Under the Orange Sky / Phillip Graves

cowboy!au / pairing philip graves x wife!reader / wc 1027 / warnings suggestive content, nondescript mentions of nudity, allusions to sex

summery her husband has always been a stranger to her, but one day when he returns from the fields, Phillip's behavior towards her has changed.

notes here's the second poll fanfic, not as long as i thought it would be, but satisfying still. no use of y/n. the story takes place during the turn of the 20th century in western texas.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Her husband was a stranger, despite the five years she’d spent tied down to him, living in the wild of Texas, far from town, far from her parents; he stayed estranged. Leaving early in the morning before the sun rose over the jagged mountains, returning late in the evenings when she was already in bed, trying to sleep, she seldomly saw Phillip ‘cept for Sundays, on the Lord’s day of rest. Yet still on those days, he was distant from her, withdrawn, solemn, never touching, and only a few stray glances. It was hard for her to remember that charming, proud man who’d swept her off her feet, who flattered her mother and talked business with her father. 

Closing her eyes, laying her head against the back of the tub, she could hear the faint rumbling of hooves, the barking of cattle dogs, and the distinct sound of her husband’s voice. It was early, too early compared to the usual time of his arrival. The sun still hung in the sky, just below the mountains and spilling light into the washroom, remnants of dinner lay on the table waiting for him, lukewarm, and she felt her throat constrict as the sound of his footsteps heavy against the wooden floors of the home. 

The door opens, creaking on its rusty hinges, his blue-eyed gaze falls on her bare figure as Phillip approaches her. Dirty, tall, stern. Removing the black, worn glove off of his hand, it moves down and cups her chin, making her look up at him. Swallowing harshly, she fights the temptation to yank away and look elsewhere, not wanting to invoke the anger she’d seen him possess before. The feeling of his rough and calloused skin against her chin, and the deep gaze of his eyes causes a shiver to run down her spine and a low chuckle to escape his mouth. 

“Do you plan on getting ill, bathing in water this cold?” Phillip asks, removing his other glove before beginning to undo the buttons of his shirt, his overcoat hung up by the door along with his boots. His wife hadn’t even noticed that the water had turned cold around her, or the ache in her chest as she watched her husband slowly undress, folding his clothes and laying them neatly in a pile on the stool next to hers. 

Before she can finally connect the words to ask, he settles into the tub behind her. The warmth of his skin from being out under the Texan sun seeps into her as his hands move to his wife’s shoulder blades. They begin drawing tight circles with his thumbs which causes her to sit up straighter in the bath, stiff with nerves. This wasn’t unfamiliar to her, she knew Phillip’s touch, and with heat pooling to her cheeks, could remember different nights when he’d woken her up and left her sore in the morning. But it was still as strange to her as Phillip was. 

“Relax, doll.” His voice comes out cool, albeit gravely, as Phillip speaks to her. Keeping his hands fixed on her shoulder blades, he brings her back until she’s resting against his broad chest. The rosy blush stays on her cheeks and his nose presses against the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of soap she’d used to cleanse her skin and hair. Staying beneath his grasp, the rising and falling of her chest begins to slow as she realizes his actions are gentle, slow, and considerate of her. Not like before where she had the innate sensation of being a deer that’s being hunted by a coyote. Instead, it reminds her of a book she once read as a young girl, and the pink tint of her cheeks turns into a violent shade of red. 

“Didn’t I say to relax?” Phillip states, once again bringing his hand back to cup her chin so she has to turn her head to look at him. His gaze transfixed on her face, the haze in her eyes and the soft swell of her lips. The way she appeared was so heavenly, that even a holy man would find himself sinning. Pride swelled in Phillip’s chest as he acknowledged the fact that she was his, his wife, his girl. She, on the other hand, felt like the world was spinning around her as she tried to figure out what had happened to her distant husband, Phillip had never done this before. He’d never been so attentive, even when they courted and he had left her feeling dazed and confused. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She finally gets the courage to ask, feeling stupid as the words left her mouth. There was almost a sense of adoration as his thumb grazed her lips, a desire that was not primal, but loving. 

“Like how a husband should look at his wife?” Phillip’s voice comes out calmly, yet it still sends shivers down her spine. He chuckles again, relishing in the reaction he receives, enjoying the way her face turns flush and how she looks away from him. “What’s wrong, doll? Would you rather me leave?” 

“No.” Yes, no, she didn’t know what she wanted. The feeling of her stomach tightening as his hands dip down to rest on her hips leaves her unsure and startled. Phillip’s rough lips move to her neck, peppering small, light kisses on her cool skin.

“You’re still cold, doll.” His hands run up her side, the calloused palms rubbing against her plush, soft skin, her breathing hitches as she leans back against him. Letting logic and sensibility fall to the side, her hands fall on top of his, nails grazing against the back of his hands. “Let me help with that.” 

The man behind her was still a stranger, but there was a burning desire in the bottom of her stomach to know him. To find the reason for his sudden change, to touch him, bask in the warmth of his skin, and mindlessly confess everything to him. Phillip Graves was like the sun, lighting her up and painting her skies in shades she’d never known.

[rogueddie]

The first time Steve and Dustin were alone together was the night they found Will. He had reassured Joyce that the kids would be fine, that he'd call their parents and, if needed, he would personally drive them home. Everyones parents were able to come to the hospital to pick them up.

Everyone expect Dustin.

So, Steve drove him home. He was giddy the whole ride, didn't bat an eye at Steve's presence the way the others had. He'd been more excited when Steve encouraged him to keep telling him about their side, about the little girl with superpowers and their little nerd game.

He'd invited Steve in for tea. Steve didn't have any left at home, had run out a couple days ago, so he agreed. He needed something warm after the day he'd had. He only hoped he wouldn't be intruding.

Claudia was horrified when she saw how bruised and bloodied he was. She had not only made him tea, but wrapped him up in a blanket and got her first aid kit. She was only really able to clean him up, most of the cuts beginning to heal just enough to be find on their own. Not that it made Claudia feel any better.

She'd only gotten more overbearing when Steve reluctantly admitted that his parents still weren't home yet. She insisted that he stay there so she can make sure he's still ok in the morning.

He has to argue with her when she tries to insist he sleep in her bed, while she stays on the sofa. Luckily, Dustin backs him up on that point. He points out that she'd make Steve feel guilty, which Steve quickly agrees with. Together, they convince her that Steve will be fine to stay on the sofa.

She made him breakfast in the morning. Homemade pancakes. She checks over his wounds again and, when she's finally satisfied that he doesn't have a concussion, she reluctantly let's him leave.

She calls him every other day, checking in on him. She stops commenting on his parents absence, just tutting. She only stops calling when, after two weeks, his parents do arrive home. They don't care about his bruises, simply remind him to keep his grades up, to not let the incident effect his basketball 'career'.

Steve finally took Claudia up on her offer to visit any time. She didn't care that he stayed the whole day, even offering to babysit Dustin when she wanted to go out for a little bit and was trying to find her usual babysitters number. He insists she doesn't pay him too, that she'd been letting him squat for long enough that he owes her anyway.

It becomes routine after that. Sometimes Claudia calls him to babysit, usually he's already there. Dustin complains a lot that he doesn't need a babysitter, but Steve can tell that he doesn't really mind. Dustin can rant about whatever he wants to Steve... mostly because Steve isn't really listening but that just means he can rant about the same thing as much as he wants.

The second time Steve turns up at Claudias house, bruised and bloodied, is far worse than the first.

She fusses a lot more, scolds Dustin for the plasters the kids had used to try and stop the bleeding. She had to reopen a lot of the cuts in order to clean them properly. She only needed to bandage one, holding the ice pack to his eye for him for some time.

"You can't keep getting hurt like this," she had tried to scold him. Her voice broke though, revealing the fear she tried to hide.

"He was protecting us," Dustin finally spoke up. He was unusually quiet, almost timid. "B... the guy was going to hurt Lucas. He said he was gonna kill him. Steve was protecting us."

After that, Claudia insisted that Steve join them for their Sunday roasts. At first as a thank you, for looking out for Dustin and the kids as much as he had. It soon becomes something... more.

It wasn't until Dustin dragged Steve home after Starcourt and the Russians, bruised and bloodied once again, that the subtext was no longer sub.

Claudia complained, loud and upset, that someone must have cursed the town, must have cursed her.

"If it wasn't for you having all your friends here, Dusty, I'd move us away. I'd pack all of our important stuff and we'd go, right now. Far, far away where nothing can hurt my boys ever again."

She'd been looking at Steve. She'd been making sure the medics had properly taken care of his wounds. She'd looked at him, pointedly.

"Where you two go?" Steve asked, trying to ignore the look.

Claudia had tutted, narrowed her eyes at him. "Us three. Our little family is already too small. Nothing could make me leave you behind, Stevie. Nothing."

"Oh."

She had smiled, fixing his hair.

Dustin snorted when he looked over. "You're catching flies, Stevie!"

"Shut up!" Steve threw a pillow at him. "You're such a brat!"

Dustin grabbed the thrown pillow, throwing it back at his chest. "You're one to talk!"

"Be careful," Claudia warned.

She sat back with a smile, keeping a close eye on them and making sure that they're play-fighting didn't get too out of hand.

She can remember when she first had Dustin, how much she'd wanted another son to keep him company, a brother who would love him. She can remember how distressed she was when she realized that she never would.

Funny how things turn out, she thinks; funny that she did get her dream in the end. Even if it does come with a lot of stress.

"Dusty, careful! You need to be careful, watch out for his face, ok?" She raises her voice a little. She bites back a smile at the sheepish looks they both send her.

[msbigredmachine]

On Sight - Part 3 (Jey Uso/OC)

The fact that we hate each other don’t mean we can’t fuck. Just don’t fall in love with me. Part 3 of my 4-part Jey Uso/OC series.

Warnings: The usual smut, toxic behavior, angst

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: I had to split it, so now it’s four parts. I wasn’t comfortable that it was so damn long lol.

ON SIGHT MASTERLIST

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

PART 3 - BOTH?

A tired sigh left your lips as you disabled the comments on your Instagram page. Another day, another disrespectful internet troll trying to fuck up your mood. 

The past couple of weeks were some of the worst you’d encountered in recent memory. Barely eighteen months since you joined WWE and you had already fallen prey to the vulturous dirt sheets and backstage drama. Your co-workers were now under the false assumption that you were in a love triangle with Jey Uso and Cody Rhodes. After the airport pictures were leaked, you and Jey trended on Twitter for twenty-four hours, as fans had a lot to say about what they believed was a new wrestling romance. You refused interviews, shut off your comments and mentions on all your platforms, and under ‘advisement’ from Hunter and management, you stayed off TV for a couple of weeks until the whole thing blew over. But now that you were home alone and not traveling, your mind was forced to return to what happened that day.

Return to the one person you had no business thinking about.

You did not miss Jey Uso. He did not deserve a second of your attention. Which is why you ignored all his phone calls and text messages, only stopping short of blocking his number. He did not deserve an ounce of your emotions. Even though you cried over him more times than you cared to admit. Even though you couldn’t get all those nights…and mornings…and afternoons…of passion, out of your head. He did not deserve any of your headspace. And yet, all you could think about was those chocolate brown eyes of his that pierced your soul…Eyes that now haunted your dreams…Eyes that were filled with rage just weeks ago. In all the times you got on each other's nerves, you had never seen him like that, and you weren’t sure you wanted any part of it.

The irony was, you had no intention of fraternizing with the talent when you joined the WWE. Workplace dalliances often went up in smoke. But there was something about Jey fucking Uso that you just could not seem to resist. Your mind kept saying no, even resorted to name-calling and bickering to repel him. But once your body gave in, there was no going back. Then, your heart followed. Thinking all would be well, you carried on like a naïve little girl, only to end up getting embarrassed. And it hurt like hell.

Your phone vibrated, and your partner in crime, Kayla Braxton’s happy face flashed at you, reminding you about attending Beyoncé’s show later tonight. How could you forget about the hottest tour in town? You all bought VIP access tickets months ago and there was no way you were going to miss it. Your hair appointment was in an hour and a custom-made outfit would soon be at your doorstep. You planned on looking your very best tonight; after all, you never know who would meet at a place like that…

Long story short, you were moving on. You were becoming the main character again, living your best life and damning all negativity to hell. Because you were that bitch. Simple as.

Fuck Jey Uso.

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

If Jey thought you didn’t have that many fans before, he found out the hard way that it was the exact opposite.

Your fanboys were coming for his head. The nicer comments were “It should’ve been me!” and the more caustic ones were not very PG. Only God knows how they would have reacted if they found out how the breakup went down; he’d be fucked six ways to Sunday.

The Tag team champion groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and regretting it instantly - because every time he did, your face was all he saw anymore. His brain seemed to enjoy tormenting him with memories of the mess he made that day. He could still smell the roses he’d bought for you. He could see you in that room, Cody’s lips pressed against yours...

...The tears in your eyes as he screamed at you…the pain in your voice as you screamed back…

He knew he fucked up. He said some terrible things he wished he could take back. But now he couldn’t go through a day without being asked about you and when he started dating you. Hilarious, as you weren’t even speaking to him. He glanced at his phone again to see if you’d finally replied to at least one of his numerous calls and texts. Of course not. You ignored every single one of them. You avoided him and refused to be anywhere near him. As much as he deserved your wrath, it was starting to get to him.

Scrolling through his Instagram, he noticed Liv Morgan’s recent IG story placed her at Beyoncé’s concert. Most of the Smackdown female roster were with her, yourself included. He knew you loved Beyoncé, so undoubtedly you were having a great time. Your hair was beautiful, and you looked hot as hell in that jumpsuit…

Fuck.

He thought this shit only happened in movies; the whole enemies-to-lovers schtick, catching feelings only for something stupid to happen and ruin the connection you were building. Well, it was happening in real life and happening to him, and honestly? It sucked.

His matches also suffered a drop in quality. By all standards they were still okay; he was still executing all his moves right and his mannerisms were adequate. But it wasn’t the same. Because he was missing you. Without you around anymore, he was useless. He'd become so used to being with you that your absence opened up a void that he felt could not be filled. 

His boys were starting to notice and were losing patience with him. 

“Dude, get your shit together,” Roman admonished him one evening in their locker room as they prepared for their tag match for the Smackdown main event.

“Chill. I’m just in a funk, that’s all,” he explained lamely, acutely aware that his older cousin would see right through his excuse.

“Not our fault that you fumbled Y/N. Don’t mean you should take it out on your performances and make the rest of us look bad.”

“Stop being an asshole, Roman,” Jimmy said as he taped his fingers, then turned his attention to Jey. “I’m still shook over the fact that you were sleeping with her all this time and I had no idea,” he said to Jey. “And why you tell Big Uce before me? Huh bro?”

“He never told me. I found ‘em fucking in our locker room,” Roman clarified.

Jimmy gaped at his brother with wide eyes. “Yooooo, what?! When was this? Damn, you nasty as hell, twin!”

“Fuck off, you and Trin done fucked in worse places,” Jey countered. “It was a long time ago, bruh. Now she won’t even look at me.”

“What d’you expect?” Roman continued. “What did you think would happen after what you did? And on top of those photos getting out? Yeah, you didn’t stand a chance. Own that shit, dude. You fucked up.”

Jey exhaled heavily. “Thanks man, way to make me feel like shit.”

“He is right, uce. That’s a bad bitch you let slip away,” said Jimmy.

Jey gaped at his brother and cousin, lifting his arms in exasperation. “Yo, ain’t you supposed to be on my side?”

“Yeah, but I like her a lot.” Jimmy elaborated. “She’s cool and sassy as hell. Now that I think about it, she was good for you. She kept you on your toes, and you were much happier, Uce. I saw it, and now that I know she was the reason, you need to figure out how to get her back, asap.”

Right. That was not happening anytime soon, not if you had anything to say about it.

The Bloodline’s match was against the team of Cody Rhodes and the Street Profits. Jey did his best to remain professional, but one look at the American Nightmare had his blood boiling. Once they locked up in the ring, his punches got stiffer, his move set became more aggressive. At one point, Jey wrapped his forearm around Cody’s windpipe a little too tightly in an illegal rear naked choke. In retaliation, Cody elbowed him square in the face, causing blood to spurt from his nose. It was all downhill from there, and they barely made it to the end of the match in one piece.

Backstage, a big melee erupted as Jimmy and Solo had to forcibly restrain their brother from attacking the American Nightmare. “You motherfucker! You broke my fuckin’ nose!” he yelled.

“And you beat the shit outta me and almost choked me out, so we’re even, motherfucker!” Cody shot back over Roman’s shoulder. “You got your receipt now. Are you happy? Huh? Are you satisfied?”

“No. Next time keep your hands off my girl!” Jey snarled.

Cody snorted. “Your girl, huh? You say she’s your girl, yet you had no problem disrespecting her and embarrassing her in public.”

“Aye, shut your fucking mouth!” Jey barked, incensed. In his peripheral vision, he could see you standing among the gathering crowd a few feet away, flanked by Kayla and Samantha. The other two women were looking at him like they wanted to beat his ass. In contrast, your expression was blank. Unreadable. He wished he knew what you were thinking.

“Did I lie? We all saw you, insulting her, calling her names over something that wasn’t even her fault!” Cody went on, “So since you wanna air this shit out again, fine. It was me. I put her in a position she didn’t wanna be in, and I regret it and I’ve apologized. But you’re a dumbass for treating her like that.”

The Tag team champ visibly bristled. It was one thing to hear from his family that he fucked up. It was a whole ‘nother thing to hear it from his opp. Both were rather humbling experiences, not that he would admit that shit to anyone. 

Cody picked up his ring jacket and threw it over his shoulder, his ire still trained on Jey. “Now that we got all the aggression out of the way, I strongly suggest that you get on your hands and knees and beg for her forgiveness. That’s a beautiful, smart, gem of a woman you’re taking for granted, and she obviously cares about you, which is a whole lot less than your bitch ass deserves.” With that, he walked away, having made his point loud and clear.

Jey twisted out of his brothers’ grasp, his teeth bared in an agitated sneer. When he glanced in your direction again, you were gone. 

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

You fixed what you hoped was an attentive look on your face while pretending to listen to Bobby Lashley talk. He was a nice guy, but he just wasn't…interesting. You’d been talking to him for most of the night and you were bored, despite the fun, albeit pounding, music booming through the club. The sooner you got out of here, the better, because the mannerisms and suggestive twinkle in his eyes told you he was expecting sex later tonight. Such a pity…he looked like he was good in bed, but it was painfully obvious that you didn't have much in common. Maybe you should start dating non-wrestlers again.

A chill swept through your spine out of nowhere. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you sensed a new presence among the cluster of people already in the VIP section. Something pushed you to direct your gaze towards the entrance, and you did.

Jey.

Despite yourself, desire flushed through you as you watched him make his way into the room. As though feeling the heat of your stare, he looked in your direction and your eyes locked. Even from a distance, the sparks flew between you, sharp and explosive over the dimmed lights of the large room. You saw his gaze flicker between you and Bobby, a maelstrom of emotions swimming in his narrowed eyes.

Diamond came up behind him, looping her arm around his.

You felt your heart drop, and the pang of jealousy grew inside you like a weed. Of course. Why were you not surprised? 

Bobby calling your name finally broke the hypnosis. Tearing your gaze away, you cleared your throat and reached for your drink.

"We can leave if that’ll make you more comfortable,” Bobby offered, his tone sympathetic.

Adamantly, you shook your head. “Why? We’re staying right here.” 

“So, he your ex now or somethin’?” Bobby inquired, his eyes on you as he sipped his cocktail.

“He’s nothing to me,” you answered, a bit too harshly. “Let’s talk about something else, please.” You plastered a smile on your face, exponentially more interested in Bobby Lashley than you’d ever been.

The drinks kept flowing, to your delight. When a waiter placed four tequila shots on your table, you snatched one up and knocked it back with ease, followed by a second. Looking over to where Jey was seated, you saw him take a swig of Hennessy straight from the bottle. Diamond was on his lap, grinding all up on him. Releasing a deep breath, you cleared your throat, annoyed. The longer you sat there, the angrier you felt, and the more alcohol you consumed. Glancing back at him one more time, you gulped down the rest of your drink and turned to Bobby. 

"Dance with me." You stood up without waiting for his answer. He followed though, and soon you were encased in a moving sea of bodies. Your arms slid around his neck, feeling his hands grab your hips, holding you against him as you moved together with the music. He then turned you around so your back was against his chest, keeping you tight to him. You tilted your head as he nuzzled your exposed neck, his breath hot on your skin. 

“You’re lookin’ real sexy tonight, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear, his big hand draped dangerously over the top of your thigh.

You weren’t listening. You had caught Jey’s eyes again, and he looked like he wanted to murder somebody. Good. Fueled by alcohol and revenge, you ground your ass against Bobby’s groin, feeling his arousal, imagining it belonged to someone else. Your gaze remained on your ex, and your nipples tightened from the way he stared at you, knowing he was fully aware of his effect on you.

Done with the games, you stepped away abruptly from Bobby, swaying slightly on your heeled feet. "I don’t feel so good. I think I’m gonna head home," you informed him.

“You’ve had a lot to drink. Let me take you home,” Bobby said. His voice remained calm, but his teeth gritted with obvious sexual frustration. You saw right through it and hastened your exit.

“No need, I’ll just call an Uber. Don’t let me ruin your evening.” You turned and left without letting him answer. You felt bad that you did him like that, but you just had to get the fuck out of there.

The fresh air afforded you some relief as you waited for your Uber. It cleared your head a little bit, but then all the thoughts rushing in were on him. You hated that he still felt like home to you. It still felt like he was yours. Those feelings angered you because it was not true, and you knew you were being stupid, pathetic and weak. You knew if he’d fucked you over once, he’d do it again. You weren’t a child. You knew the games of the assholes of the world, and you couldn’t believe you’d given in to one, that all you had to show for it were the shattered pieces of your heart.

You really wished you could forget about Jey. You did. All you wanted was for the pain in your heart to subside, but he’d made such an imprint on you. It didn’t help that you were in l-

As soon as the thought emerged, you jammed your hands over your ears, as though this could somehow block out the mental reverberations of your emotions. No! Stop it! You’re not! Not with that prick-

“There she is. The queen ho herself.”

You heard her before you saw her. Diamond. With her hands on her hips, in a dress one size too small for her, adopting a smug, triumphant air as though she had finally won the prize she’d been chasing for a long time. “Nice to see you, girl,” she said, a fake ass smile stretching her face. “I see you been real busy sleeping your way to the top. So, not only did you fuck Jey and Cody Rhodes at the same time, you’re fucking Bobby Lashley now.” She scoffed. “Who’s the slut now, huh?"

The last thing you wanted was to entertain this bitch. But the drinks in your system made your mouth faster than your brain. “Run along, little girl. Don’t speak on things you know nothing about.” You made a shooing motion with your hand.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’re the talk of the town, sweetheart. Jey caught you having sex with Cody. You got tired of them two and now you’re with Lashley. Tell me. What’s it like getting passed around like a lit blunt?”

The fucking lies. That was what you could not stand. The dirt sheets, your nosy ass colleagues. And now this bitch. “Is that what Jey told you, or did you read that somewhere and your dumb, gullible little self swallowed it up like a sheep,” you sneered, eyeing her up and down. “Oh, I forgot…swallowing is what you do best.” 

A snide laugh left Diamond’s lips. “Jey was right when he said you’re jealous. You're pressed because I got your man now. Stay mad, ho.”

You giggled at the desperation oozing from her. She really tried it. “You ain’t got shit, bitch. You’re not half the woman I am. Every time you’re fucking him, you know damn well that he’s thinking of me. Are you enjoying the taste of my pussy, sweetie? Cuz that’s all you’ll ever taste when you’re kissing him or sucking his dick.”

The self-important demeanor slipped from Diamond’s features. “Bitch, I’ma beat your drunk ass right now. You’re begging for an ass whooping, and I’ll be happy to give it to you!”

“Bring it, bitch. Drunk or not, I’ll still wipe the floor with your dusty ass wig. But my nails cost a hundred dollars and they cute as fuck. Your bitch ass is definitely not worth it. Keep enjoying my sloppy seconds though." With that, you walked away, wondering where the fuck that Uber was.

When Diamond shoved you in the back, making you almost fall over from the impact, it felt like a fever dream. By the time you turned to face her, your vision had reduced to a sea of blinding red. The backhand you hit her with was so hard your entire arm stung. She’d barely hit the ground before you lunged again, clawing at her hair, but a pair of strong hands yanked you backwards before you could inflict another blow, pulling a few tracks out of her head in the process.

“Get off me!" you shouted, flailing wildly and swinging your fists. "Get the fuck off me!"

Jey’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as his warm breath grazed your cheek. "Hey, hey, chill," he whispered firmly into your ear, "Let it go," he added as he glanced over at Diamond being helped to her feet by some of her NXT peers. A small crowd was starting to gather outside, and Jey knew you had to leave, now. “Come on, let’s get outta here.”

“Fuck off me! Let me go, that bitch need to die!” Enraged and out for blood, you continued to struggle against him as he led you away.

“Are you gonna leave me here?!” Diamond shrieked, watching Jey depart with you in disbelief.

Ignoring her, he took you to his truck which thankfully, was nearby. He literally dragged you, kicking and screaming, into the truck, shoving you into the passenger’s side, and drove off as discreetly as possible. 

He knew where you lived. He’d been to your place many times, just like you’d been to his. Though it was only a fifteen minute drive from the club, it seemed like hours as the deafening silence amplified the already suffocating tension between you.

“Why you out here fighting, huh? Whatchu doin’?” he asked, not backing down from the murderous look you shot him at his question.

“Fuck off, you ain’t my daddy!” you fired back. “You shoulda let me wash that bitch, I don’t care if she’s your girl.”

Jey sighed. “She’s not my girl.”

“Oh, really? Woulda never guessed from the way she was practically fucking you in the club.”

“I could say the same thing ‘bout you and Lashley. You were all up on him too,” he challenged.

Feeling your temper rise, you started to respond, but stopped short and shook your head instead. “Ya know what? Stop the car. Now. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

"You ain't goin' nowhere in them high ass heels," he pointed out. "Besides, you in no shape to be alone right now. And we almost at your place anyway."

“Well hurry up cuz I’m feeling nauseous. Unless you want me to vomit right here. I’ll be more than happy to.”

The thinly-veiled threat motivated him to increase his speed limit. 

When he pulled up at your house, you refused his assistance and tried to get out of the car by yourself. You barely made it a few steps out, teetering on your heels, when you stumbled on the way to your door. 

"Need me to carry you?" Jey asked, knowing the answer already.

You looked at him miserably, "My head hurts."

“Where your keys at?” he asked, opening your purse to fish out your key. Unlocking the door, he picked you up bridal style and stepped through, as you wrapped your arms around him. 

"You're really strong, babe. I like my men strong,” you slurred and broke into a fit of hysterical giggles. 

It was going to be a long night.

In your living room, he laid you on the love seat, took off your shoes and quickly put a trash can next to you, just in case. Sitting in the arm chair across from you, he noticed you staring intently at him. "You okay? Ya need somethin’?"

"You’re sexy as fuck. Have I ever told you that?” you drawled, your smile wider than necessary as you slowly stood up.

Jey couldn’t help but blush at your compliment. "Ain’t nobody as sexy as you, princess," he replied, biting his lip as his eyes scanned your curvy frame appreciatively. Hands down the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He ached for you, but he just couldn’t have you.

Your stance was shaky as you crossed over to him, swinging your leg over his lap to straddle him, and wound your arms around his neck. "Jey...I think I like you."

He blushed again, a little flustered by the complete 180 your behavior had taken between the car ride and now. Yes, he knew you were drunk, but he wasn’t exactly sober himself. This was suddenly a precarious situation. "I thought you hate me," he murmured against your shoulder, his hands finding your hips despite himself.

You pulled back and thought about it for a second, "Yeah, I still do. But I like you too. A lot. Maybe." Framing his bearded face in your small hands, your lips brushed softly over his nose, his cheek, his chin. “Can I kiss you? I really wanna kiss you.”

Tilting your head, you nipped his bottom lip, teasing the plump flesh with your tongue. With each press of your mouth, you added more pressure, and like butter next to heat, he melted, capturing your mouth with his, tasting the alcohol on your tongue. God, he missed kissing you. Missed your touch, missed you pressed up against him like this. But this was wrong. You were both clearly out of it, and he didn’t want you to feel like he was taking advantage of you.

Groaning pitifully, he broke the kiss and tried to push you away, acutely cognizant of your big, dilated pupils. "Princess, we shouldn't do this…Not when we both wasted."

You frowned and pouted, "We’re fiiiine. Come on, Daddy, I need you." Your lips latched onto his neck, knowing full well it was his sweet spot, rolling your ass against his crotch and feeling him harden underneath you. Your moans became throatier and sultrier, gradually stripping away the little self-control he had left. His lips crashed back over yours, his tongue moving roughly in your mouth, a fistful of your hair in his hand and your ass in the other, molding and kneading possessively. This was such a stupid idea on both your parts. But right now it was all you both wanted and consequences be damned.

You helped him peel off your short dress, tugging it over your head. His palms quickly roamed your smooth skin, stopping at your ass to squeeze the soft flesh. Then, shoving his hand inside your underwear, he flattened his palm right over the slick juncture between your legs and rubbed the wetness there, and he smiled as you moaned softly, as your skin quivered around his hand. But two could play that game. Your hand slithered down his pants, finding him rock-hard. You massaged his length with your fist, and just like that, you both found yourselves in a standoff; heated stare on heated stare, jerking each other off like it was a competition. 

Leaning in to nibble his earlobe, you whispered in his ear, "Fuck me right now, Uso. And make it count."

He didn’t need to be told twice. He shot to his feet, lifting you into his arms with your ass in his clutches. Your body was alluringly warm and soft and he almost wept from how good you felt against him. Cradling you to him, his long legs quickly ate up the distance between the living room and your bedroom. He laid you on the edge of the bed and took off his shirt. His mind and body were highly strung, desperate to find some relief and release all of the pent up tension from tonight.

Although you tried to pretend that this was nothing more than a quick fuck, you couldn't resist sitting up and slowly kissing his lips. He tasted so good, and his naked body felt even better. You let your hands wander over his chest, dragging your nails across his pec tattoos in as you kissed him, before you pulled away abruptly and shoved him onto his back with his legs still set on the floor. Seeing him stretched out over your sheets brought back memories which you quickly tried to dispel. You yanked his pants down to his ankles with force, frowning when a condom fell out of the back pocket. Picking it up, you tossed it onto his chest.

“Put it on,” you told him, denying yourself the enticing visage of him rolling the rubber down his shaft. For all you cared, it was meant for Diamond, but you decided to ignore that and focus on the hard dick that was waiting and ready for your use.

Jey’s eyebrows creased in confusion as he watched you take off your panties, only to turn your back on him. "Whatchu doin’?"

"What’s it look like I’m doin’," you shrugged, nudging his legs wide apart and adjusting yourself in the reverse cowgirl position. You took hold of him and eased yourself down his length, an agonizingly slow slide until your ass pressed down on his pelvis. You both groaned at the feeling, your head hanging down while you reacquainted yourself with his fullness. This was for the best; you wouldn’t have to look at his face or get caught up in his gorgeous eyes.

Placing your hands on his knees, you began riding him, hard, quick, focusing solely on your pleasure. Circling your hips, you moaned out as your pussy immediately clamped around every inch of his cock. He was panting already, his hands on your waist helping you to bounce on him. Jey looked on, completely hypnotized by the sight of your ass slapping against his pelvis, your pussy leaking all over the condom covering his cock. He gripped your ass cheeks before spreading them open so you could take him deeper. As he began to jut his hips upwards into you, you threw your head back with a whimper, losing yourself to the sweet sensation of him filling you, wet smacking sounds echoing around the bedroom as you met him thrust for thrust.

“You feel so good, princess," Jey breathed, caressing wherever he could reach, eventually finding your breasts and tugging your puckered nipples between his thick fingers. 

"Mmmm," you purred, trying to ignore his sexy voice. It was impossible to deny how good he felt, stretching you, testing the limits to the depth and tightness of your pussy. Still, you took back control by switching to hard, grinding motions, concentrating on getting off. Luckily you were almost there; he was nestled right against your g-spot as you gyrated your ass on him, edging closer to your orgasm.

Jey knew what you were trying to do, and the Alpha Male in him was not having it. Surging to his feet with you in his arms, he climbed into the bed and dumped you amongst the pillows back-first. Sitting back on his heels, he pried your legs wide apart and tapped his dick against your clit, then shoved it back inside you. The sharp, sudden invasion only fueled your pleasure, and you squealed, your moans coming in short, raspy pants as he pummeled your pussy hard and fast. Clamping a hand around your throat, he slammed his dick into your sweet spot over and over, making your eyes flutter shut in utter pleasure as you came all over him. This was just like old times...straight-up vulgar fucking that laid waste to your g-spot. Jey kept fucking you through your orgasm, looking down at the place where your bodies merged, and smiling arrogantly at what he saw.

"Look at that pussy, nutting all over my cock. So fuckin' good. You missed Daddy's dick, amirite?"

"Yes, Daddy," you moaned, turning your head to the side as he started rotating his hips, slow-grinding inside your pussy, "Aww, shit..."

“Look at me,” he growled, frowning when you ignored him. Again. Grabbing your cheeks between his fingers, he steered your face back to meet his heated gaze. “I said look at me,” he ordered, his voice gruff and menacing.

Moth. Flame. Just as you predicted, the feelings and emotions came flooding back. Just like you feared, you got lost in his eyes; the passion, the desire, the affection you felt for him, reflecting back at you. You groaned softly with him, and he leaned down and nuzzled your throat, his nostrils breathing in your scent, your skin, absorbing you. Your legs hitched higher around his waist, allowing him to hook them over his elbows and deepen his strokes, giving you that Henny dick, and your pussy reacted accordingly.

“Yeah, baby, grip that dick, squeeze me hard. You’re turned on, ain’t cha,” Jey grunted, licking the seam of your lips and doing the same to both your nipples, “I told you, this pussy belongs to me. You’re mine, princess. Don’t ever forget that shit.”

“Mmm, unnnhhh, mmmph…” You whined so sexily beneath him. All soft and delicate like a little kitten. You were looking up at him with your pretty eyes, dilated with a mix of pleasure and liquor as you took his big cock like a good girl. He was caught up in your eyes and the feel of your fingers clutching the back of his head, enticing him to kiss you again, adding extra tongue, his head seemingly about to combust from how good he was feeling. Sober or intoxicated, your sex was always incredible; he couldn’t get enough of you if he tried.

He swung your legs up onto his shoulders, your heavy pants dissolving into outright cries when he started jackhammering into you. His hips collided into yours with brute force, smothering you into the bed with his bigger body. It was mind-blowing, his dick at the bottom of your pussy, your toes touching the headboard, the heat between you spreading, scorching, hurtling towards an extinction-level explosion. And when it hit you, tears sprung to your eyes and you were robbed of all speech. Your muscles tensed and your legs shook from its intensity. 

Jey’s tortured groan warmed the crook of your neck as he detonated with you, his body shivering from indescribable pleasure. The harsh movement of his hips softened into gentle rolls in his attempt to pour every drop of himself in the condom buried inside you. Afterwards, he hovered weakly over your prone frame, drained and out of breath, before finding enough strength to pull out and crumple down next to you. Your last thought as you curled up against his warm body was how much you missed this. Missed him.

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

The horrendous sensation of your stomach climbing up your throat woke you up. Almost falling out of the bed, you half-ran, half-stumbled into the bathroom. You barely made it to the toilet bowl in time, falling on your knees to empty the contents of your stomach. Tears pricked your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You hated throwing up. It hurt like hell and you always felt like you were puking up all your insides.

Just as you thought it was over, another wave of nausea came along, wrenching through your entire body. You suddenly felt a hand on your back, another pulling your hair away from your face. Jey. You tried to ward him off, but he didn’t budge, holding your hair until you were done puking your guts out. He then helped you up, took your robe and put it on you, and it was then you noticed he was in his briefs and nothing else. He waited for you to wash your mouth and brush your teeth, then carried you back to the bed, picking up the bottle of water and aspirin he’d set by the nightstand.

“Here, this will help. Took some earlier this morning before you woke up.” He handed them to you and watched you closely like a dutiful spouse. The taste of water right after brushing your teeth was revolting, but you forced the medicine down. Once you were finished, you put the water away and pointed at the door. 

“You can get out now. Let yourself out when you’re done getting dressed." 

There was a heavy silence as he digested your flippant dismissal. “You bein' for real right now?” he said through gritted teeth.

“What? We fucked and we got off. Why you still here?”

"Because I care about you," he responded. His voice was tight, strained, struggling to keep his emotions at bay. "Okay? I’m here because I didn’t want you to be alone. I stayed cuz I wanted to see you…Baby, we need to talk."

“I ain’t your baby. And I don’t wanna talk to you.” Getting back out of the bed, you left him alone in the room. You were still tired and the morning light felt as blinding as headlights, but you trudged on, eager to put distance between you and him.

Hurrying into his clothes and shoes, Jey fought off his own hangover symptoms as he followed you into the living room. “You ignored every single one of my calls and my texts. I been tryna talk to you for weeks. Just hear me out, please, babe.”

With every syllable he uttered, a tsunami was gathering strength inside you, threatening to break and flood the wall you had tried so hard to put back up. Then, that wall gave way, and your lips moved, the raging tsunami powering through the throbbing sensation in your head. 

"Fuck you."

Jey flinched, chastened by your vicious rebuff. "Princess," he began, but you kept talking, your emotions spilling like a malfunctioning fountain.

"No, don’t fucking cut me off! Why would I ever want to speak to you again after what you did? You never gave me a chance to explain so why do you deserve to be heard? Huh?” You shoved your hair angrily out of your face. “After Cody kissed me, I came straight to you because I wanted to be honest with you and start off our relationship the right way. And instead you exposed us. I begged you, begged you to hear me out…but you didn't. You called me every name in the book over a misunderstanding! You humiliated me in front of our co-workers! Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"

He did. That was why he was here. To take responsibility for his actions. To start over, if you wanted to. He wanted you to understand that what he did hurt him as much as it hurt you. 

But you had no interest in any of it. “That's not all you did, either and this is the one that really pisses me off. You used me. You used Key West to break down my walls and get close to me. You stole my heart, you made me fall for you and then tossed me aside like trash. You treated me like I was nothing, in fact, less than nothing. I always knew you hated me, but I never realized you hated me that much!”

He felt his stomach plummet somewhere in the abyss. “Baby, I don’t hate you-”

The laugh you let out at his response sent a chill through him. It was sarcastic, humorless, borderline manic, and it burned his soul, the fire almost as scalding as the one that blazed in your eyes.

“You don’t just hate me, Jey. You despise me,” you corrected, your tone clipped and ice-cold. “You detest me. You would never have done what you did if you don’t. You hurt me on purpose, and I blame myself because I was stupid to think you actually cared about me. I let my guard down and that’s on me. But mark my words when I say it will never, ever, ever, happen again. I swear on all four of my grandparents’ graves. You fucked with me for the last time.”

Jey forced down the lump that had formed in his throat. The regret in his eyes was palpable, looking like a lost puppy as he tried to plead his case. “Y/N, please-” 

"Don’t touch me!" You jerked away when he tried to reach for you, your heart lurching at the hurt in his eyes. “Just fucking leave, alright? Leave me alone! Go back to Diamond. You can fuck her all you want now, cuz as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing between us."

Jey came closer to you, his eyes narrowed and unwavering. "After last night, we both know that’s bullshit,” he stated confidently.

For one agonizing second, you wanted to choke him out. You wanted to rip your heart out of your chest, hold the battered organ up in front of his face, and scream: "See this? This is what you did to me!" You were so upset; your legs were about to buckle and you just wanted him gone. You couldn’t bear to be near him anymore. "Last night was a drunken mistake. Period. We’re done, Jey. I don’t ever want to see you again. Get out!" Walking over to the door, you flung it wide open and glared pointedly at him.

A distraught Jey struggled to process this turn of events. He didn’t want to leave you. Not like this. But the tears in your eyes and the quivering of your lip told him everything he needed to know. He had done an unforgivable thing by breaking your heart. Breathing out a dejected sigh, he slipped past you without another word and walked out through the door, out of your life, just like you asked him to, his chest tightening with every step he took.

Slamming the door shut on the man you loved, your legs gave out at last, and you slid down to the ground in a flood of tears. This agony, this ache inside your chest, was tearing you apart. The betrayal and deep regret and utter worthlessness overwhelmed you. You couldn't breathe, your chest heaved, and you struggled not to cry out from the pain that gripped your broken heart like a vice.

On the other side of the door, Jey’s features crumpled in pain as he listened to the anguish of the woman he loved; your sniffles, your sobs, each one ripping out a different piece of his heart. Pressing his forehead against the door, his fingers splayed out against the wooden surface, as though trying to reach out to you, trying to take away your pain. The pain he caused.

"I'm sorry, Y/N…I'm so sorry…"

END OF PART 3

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

More drama!😖😭

Thoughts? Is it finally over for our lovebirds? What’s going to happen in the season finale?

Please leave comments. I love comments!

Banner made by me. Jey gifs by @jeysuso​. Credit to owners of the other pics and gifs.

[abiiors]

Okay okay okay but what about the reader being married to Ross but she’s really tired that he’s always out of the house in the studio with new singers until late and she’s always alone and he kinda neglects their marrige and doesn’t realize it? And it’s super angsty because she would do anything for him, but he’s never there for her anymore. Like something along the lines of Tove Lo’s “true romance” - ‘We are meant to be, I'd die for love and loyalty’, because the reader just feels that Ross doesn’t care about her anymore and would rather spent time with those other girls until late - because that’s what he does everyday

i’ve been thinking about this for a while, idk if this makes any sense 😭😭

why... would you make me think of this you're evil 😭😭 i changed it a little bit because i just cannot make him that much of an asshole :( but here you gooo

your footsteps echo in the house as you walk up to the kitchen counter. it happens a lot these days, this echo around your house. it's a constant reminder of how this place remains empty more often than not; even on days when both you and ross are in town.

first, it was because he wanted to work on the new album in solitude.  you were supportive, giving him as much space as possible. then when the recording started, he basically turned into a machine, staying at the studio till odd hours of the morning. all he had time for at home was to have dinner and pass out. 

you see it all on twitter, all the updates on his life--what he's wearing for the day, what his hair looks like--all through the screen of your phone, all next to fans and strangers alike. he always looks the same in them, smiling and happy and like a proper rockstar. but the rare few times you see him his eyes are glazed over, there are tired circles under his eyes. and you've lost count of how many times he's fallen asleep halfway through conversations.

at this point, you can count on one hand how many times you've seen him in the last month. and you're supposed to be living together for fuck’s sake!

"you’re home," his voice comes from somewhere behind you, making you jump out of your skin.

"jesus, ross! don’t do that," you press a hand to your chest, trying your best to keep the irritation out of your voice. it bleeds through anyway. 

"do what?" he asks nonchalantly and the irritation bubbles up more and more to the surface. your skin feels uncomfortably warm, almost like a rash might break out if you tried to swallow your anger anymore.

"nothing," you shake your head, "you’re home today…" the sentence trails off, unsure and awkward. ross raises an eyebrow. 

"yes, it’s a sunday. and this is my house too remember.’ there's an unexpected bite to his voice, something that almost makes you flinch.

the snark makes you retort. "well, you have been using it as a hotel an awful lot lately." you turn your back to him, making your way back to your bedroom. 

when did he even come back? where did he even sleep? the made looks unmade only on your side, his is still arranged neatly. just as cold and untouched as it was last night.

ross follows you because this fight, or argument, or whatever it is, is clearly not over. 

"what’s that supposed to mean?" he stops at the threshold, arms crossed in front of his chest.

you turn around to look at him. he looks like the same ross as always, with long hair, and a rough beard you've always adored. he's wearing the t-shirt you bought for him a long time ago, back when you still bought surprise gifts for each other. it strains over his arms--old and faded and familiar in a jarring way because there is nothing familiar about him right. nothing familiar about the way he stands there and looks at you. he looks like your ross and yet looking at him makes you feel…nothing. 

"don’t act dumb, ross," you retort. suddenly there's no more energy in your body. suddenly it's all so tiring and weary that you have to stop whatever you're doing and sit on the edge of the bed. "do you even know when you were home the last time?"

ross looks a little taken aback, opening his mouth and closing it again when he can't immediately come up with a retort. a second later he rolls his eyes, "so this is what it’s about? that i’m not constantly here—"

"you know that’s not what this is about," you interrupt, "don’t make me out to be some clingy child!"

"and yet you’re holding my job against me! you know how important it is that this turns out good for us. you know how important—"

"definitely more important than me anyway," you mutter under your breath, not even trying to keep the bitterness out of it. it's not fair and it's not the right thing to say. you know how dedicated he is to his music but this time you're tired. just this once you want to stomp your feet and demand his attention and yell at the top of your lungs about how neglected you've felt. air out all your grievances until you don't feel so heavy and burdened anymore.

"what was that?" he's suddenly standing up straight, no longer leaning against the doorframe, "are you being serious right now?"

it would be so easy to take it back, to tell him you didn't mean it and you can try to be more understanding. but the anger rising in you burns every rational thought.  

"you heard me," you try to push past him. all you want to do is be alone, lock yourself in the bathroom for a bit, and just have a good cry, but of course, ross blocks your path. 

"leave me alone, ross," the tone of warning clear in your voice, "you were fine doing that for the past couple of months anyway."

"i have been home!" he sounds incredulous, "you’re acting like this is the first time you’re seeing me in six months." ross paces around a bit, rubbing a hand over his face, "besides, it’s not like you have been home a lot lately."

"well, sorry i didn’t wait for you to come home and finally spend some time with me!’ you yell back.

at some point, you got tired of waiting around. you started making plans with anyone and everyone who would ask you to hang out. you started staying at work later than necessary, doing more work than anyone asked of you. 

"fuck," he mutters, "i just…i don’t know how to make this work anymore," he turns around, facing away from you. the coward doesn't even have it in him to look you in the eye anymore. 

such a simple sentence, “i don’t know how to make this work anymore”, but you feel your heart shattering into a million pieces. when did it come to this? when did you and ross stop being the best thing in each other’s life? when did everything go to shit?

there's no other woman in his life, that much you're sure of.  and he hasn't flipped a switch overnight, no. this has been coming for a few months now. frankly, it's surprising that this fight hasn’t happened sooner. 

"so this is it then? you just...don't know?" your voice sounds smaller than it ever has. there was a time when ross would have instantly turned around and apologised. he would have pulled you into his chest and said sorry till the word lost its meaning. he would have done anything to show he cares.

but he just sighs, still looking the other way. 

the silence is suffocating, none of you willing to acknowledge it, to say the words that would fully seal the deal. all ross does is shake his head and walk away. 

two minutes later the front door gently thuds shut. he didn't even slam it shut, there's no anger behind it, just bitter resignation. 

you sniffle, wiping the few tears that slipped out, and get your suitcase out. you'd just pack the essentials now; an overnight bag, some documents, and work stuff. ross wouldn’t be home for the next few days anyway. and even if he was, you aren't so confident anymore that he would try to stop you from leaving.

[camillecrellin]

A Sacrifice — Grace Chasity

Synopsis: Grace's catalystic power hungry riddance of dirty dudes comes with a sacrifice of her own to the Lord in Black: Nibblenephim.

Word Count: 872

Warnings: Grace's murder spree, bisexual!Grace, internalised homophobia, mentions of virginity, references to Christianity, soul devouring

A/N: Please request Hatchedfield characters or even just Angela fics! I loved writing this. Hope you enjoyed <333

Grace didn't consider herself bisexual, that was Ruth. Grace on the other hand was a 'good' girl of Christian faith who just happened to have a weird fascination with you that went deeper than her one with Max Jagerman.

The Jagerman was a phase, besides you couldn't maintain a relationship with a ghost you inadvertently killed with you plan only to give up your prize possession to kill again. No, that was unreasonable.

Yet when Grace was near you, she felt those same feelings that she had with Max. The same that lead her to worship new Gods. Ones who were real.

The Lords in Black.

Pokotho, Bliklotep, T'noy Karaxis, Nibblenephim, Wiggog Y'wrath.

When those names were invoked an unspoken euphoria in her arised. A power-hungry purge of all those who sin.

Though Grace's faith in Christ were doubtful, his readings stood strong in her actions. Dirty dudes were to die. Sinners were to die. They're not the Lord's child. She was.

Grace Chasity was the child who stood on a dying town. A blood thirsty, sinful town in Michigan. Fulfilling the wishes of her Gods. For she was the Prophet laid upon Hatchedfield.

To invoke a rebirth of the timeline, fix the problems that laid upon those who did not believe.

For Grace, not believing was not an option it was death. She had the book in her hands, she'd be the only survivor of Hatchedfield. Outlive the sins that fell upon the world.

Grace had yet to run in any problems killing any dirty dude that dare bats a single glance at her. The souls made her strong, but at what cost.

Her Gods called upon her power, they needed a soul to make them strong and she would give them one. But they wanted more. There was one who was hungry for more.

Nibblenephim.

Nibblenephim, also known as Nibbly, was the hungriest God. He was blind in his eye, but he wouldn't forget a face. Rather a smell, the smell of lust from the perv killer.

Nibbly was gluttonous. He needed a sacrifice from Grace. It was his dinner time after all.

Grace offered up many perv’s, but Nibbly wasn't satisfied. He wasn't hungry for them.

She went for Pete, Steph, her parents, and even all four of them at once. But his stomach craved for something more meaningful.It wasn't until Nibbly invoked your name that you even crossed Grace's mind for a sacrifice. She couldn't though. You weren't like other people, you meant something. That's what the Lords in Black wanted.

The only thing she valued more than you was her virginity. Ever since that was gone, she knew staying with you was a dangerous choice.

You had yet to even do anything except hug, but even that made Grace feel weird inside. She was a good Christian girl, not some dirty bisexual slut.

Yet the Lords in Black promised a utopia world of no sins. One where it would be safe for you two to live in another life.

And so, you were asked to meet Grace on the football field on a Sunday. The day of the Lord.

Excited to meet her, you put on your best outfit. You even did you makeup to make sure you looked the best for Grace.

What you didn't expect, though was a sombre look on Grace's face as you met up. This made you worried, scared even.

"Grace?" You called out her name, but she just stared at the book in her hands.

"Grace?" You tried again, and a few more times walking up to her.

Placing a hand on Grace's shoulder you let out a shaky breath, "Grace, you're scaring me."

Grace looked you in the eyes and her gaze immediately soften before she quickly thrusted you into a hug, muttering in your ear, "Don't be scared. The offering won't take long."

"The offering?" You pulled backed, a confused look on your face.

"I'm sorry, Y/n, but my craving is too strong it must be devoured to be rid of its sins." Grace explained, opening the black book in her hands.

"Craving?" You asked, looking in Grace's eyes, madness and joy filling them. "What the fuck is happening, Grace?"

"Nibblenephim must feast." Grace declared as a forceful power overcame you, forcing you down onto your knees. "Your soul will be in service of the good."

You felt your bones crack as you no longer became able to move any muscles in your body. The Lords in Black had won. Nibbly had won.

You let out a bone chilling cry as you felt your life drop before your eyes, the sky turning to black.Grace's hand lingered on your shoulder before she turned away, not being able to able the sight as a pink fury creature with grotesque smile roared out your name.

"I've been waiting for you." Nibbly licked his lips. "Yum, yum." Nibbly launched forward, closing his jaw around you.

Grace heard your screams; she couldn't do anything. You were her treasure, so you were Nibbly's prize. A lost for the Chasity, but it meant no more sinning, no more unholy thoughts. They had just been devoured with your soul.

Nibblenephim didn't go hungry that night.

[jaimexbrienne-fic-finder]

Sports Fic

I don't celebrate Superbowl Sunday, but still, here are stories inspired by sports:

Sports featured more or less prominently!

Completed; Summaries from AO3

Baseball

you, just like heaven by theworldunseen

Jaime is an All Star pitcher on the King's Landing Crowns, and Brienne is the girl he gives free tickets to and sleeps with sometimes. That's it, she tells herself. And yet.

With All Your Faults by sea_spirit

In 1943, small-town slugger Brienne Tarth is recruited to play for Tywin Lannister’s newest business venture: the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League. There, she meets Jaime, a maimed former Major League pitcher who’s been talked into managing one of his father’s teams. She can't stand her arrogant coach, and he is definitely not interested in his annoyingly principled star player. They don't like each other at all, really...until they do.

Loosely inspired by "A League of Their Own," with slightly less baseball and lots more love story.

Diamond in the Rough by cardinalgirl75

All Brienne Tarth's ever wanted to do was play baseball. All the world's ever given her is scorn for thinking a woman could be as good as a man--until she's drafted by the King's Landing Royals. Now she's got a chance to make her wildest dreams come true.

Jaime Lannister overcame a rocky start to his career to become the premiere pitcher for the King's Landing Royals. He thinks a woman playing professional baseball is ludicrous--until he meets Brienne Tarth.

Stealing Home by PrettyThief

It was cold, he was warm, she'd polished off a very tall beer, and the night was full of happiness. Besides, they were friendly colleagues now, so surely there was no harm in a platonic hug between two fans.

Coaches Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth find themselves seated together watching the losingest team in baseball, Brienne's beloved Storm's End Stags, compete in the final game of the World Series.

these warm summer evenings where we once and again shall meet by sdwolfpup

This summer, the fourth since they'd parted after college, Jaime's coming for a month, and Brienne's already dreading having to say goodbye at the end of it. But there's no alternative, because they're simply baseball buddies, no matter how many nights Brienne might fall asleep talking to Jaime on the phone about work or how often he texts her random non-baseball thoughts during the day. Regardless of too-long hugs and extended vacation stays.

It's been eight years since they met. She's sure she's missed her chance to try to make it anything more, so she's going to be happy with the time she gets. Just as soon as she stops dreaming about him.

Right Off the Bat by hillaryschu

to be read in 90s Movie Trailer RomCom Voice

Meet Jaime. He used to be the most infamous player in Major League baseball but a career-ending injury brought him back into the family business. He hates it. What he doesn’t hate is coaching the best Little League team in Kings Landing.

Meet Brienne. After her father’s death, she left behind a successful career in women’s competitive fastpitch to start over. She’s trying to balance life and love in a new city, all while coaching a down-and-out Little League team.

In a world where everyone is looking to connect, Jaime and Brienne discover the best way to meet someone is to never meet at all. What they don’t realize, is that they already have.

This fanfic exchange season, follow along with Brienne and Jaime as they take to one another on Twitter and battle on the ballfield. Then find out what happens when those worlds collide.

(a You’ve Got Mail AU)

Change-up by Lady_in_Red

Jaime is used to reading signs and changing his play accordingly, but baseball and relationships are two entirely different games.

Formula 1

Heart Full of Gasoline by sdwolfpup

Jaime Lannister is a Formula 1 driver with a sordid past, dubious future, and nothing left to lose as he hits the far edge of his career. He thinks all he wants is the world championship title he’s never quite been able to reach and to finally give up smoking. What he finds to his great surprise is what he really wants might be Brienne Tarth.

Brienne Tarth is an unknown mechanic eager to make the jump to the big time of Formula 1. When Jaime hires her as Chief Mechanic for his team of misfits, she discovers she’s ready for the work, but is she ready for Jaime?

Bull Riding

Fever by Lady_in_Red

As a professional bull rider, Jaime Lannister cheated death, eight seconds at a time, for more than a decade. When his luck finally runs out, Brienne Tarth becomes his unlikely savior. A slow-burn romance set against a backdrop of dangerous sports and pop culture geekery in a Westeros-flavored United States.

What he loves might kill him But he's got no choice, he's a different breed With a voice down deep inside That's screamin' he was born to ride - "The Fever," Garth Brooks

Dancing

I Owe It All To You by theworldunseen

Fresh off another World Cup title with the United States Women's National Team and heading into retirement, Brienne Tarth lets her friends convince her to join the newest cast of Dancing With The Stars. Mostly she doesn't want to embarrass herself. When the show pairs her with veteran dancer Jaime Lannister, she gets even more than she bargained for.

Hockey/Dancing

when the sun shine, we shine together by cardinalgirl75

Brienne spent one incredible weekend with hockey superstar Jaime Lannister, only for him to break her heart when it was over. Four years later, she's moved on with her life and made a name for herself as the lead choreographer for one of the hottest shows on television--Lip Sync Battle. The last thing in the world she wants is for the show's creator to announce that he's pursuing Jaime to be one of the contestants.

Tennis

Grand Slam by LadyRhiyana

In which Jaime and Brienne play tennis, fool around, and fall in love.

Football (Soccer)

Playing Defense by RestedAbandon

Jaime and Brienne are always on opposite sides of the field, until they're not.

Kiss Cam by SeeThemFlying

Jaime and his girlfriend Cersei go to see a football game.

There's a kiss cam.

Jaime doesn't kiss Cersei.

This Is The One by disappointed_turtle

Jaime, Brienne, football, feminism, friendship, dogs, cake, sex. Good things, basically. No one is getting crushed by bricks after a wildly unbelievable 'relapse' in this story. No one is ending up celibate and having to spend their life playing the diplomat between lots of men who have failed upwards. Modern universe, this world. It'll probably be quite crude. Title from The Stone Roses song. I'll update very soon as it's almost finished.

Football (American)

Stannis Baratheon, Fantasy Football League Commissioner by ikkiM

Stannis Baratheon is the new Fantasy Football League Commissioner.

This is completely an exercise in fun. If you're looking for heavy angst or a deep exploration of the characters, this fic is not for you. If you are looking to have a laugh, come on in.

Basketball

My Best Friend is the Centerfold by PrettyThief

Five years since last they spoke, Brienne does not expect to see her old best friend, Jaime Lannister, modeling underwear on her social media feed.

Swimming/Football (American)

Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken

___________________

This is unfinished but it is great until it stops

Make Love Your Goal by lionswench

When the arrogant, widely-reviled and recently-relieved war veteran Jaime Lannister starts pulling the reins at his father's factory, he finds himself tiptoeing around the ire that munitionette Brienne Tarth seems to reserve only for him.

Careful to contain the explosive potential between the two of them, Jaime gradually begins to win Brienne over with a little help from the beautiful game. If a war can momentarily cease for a bit of football, surely a bit of workplace bickering can too, right?

A retelling of the history of Dick, Kerr Ladies FC with slightly less football, and many more feelings.

[eiraeths]

Gimme gimme gimme

Solvent for caustic scars

And pithy observations of canine incisors

Prebby prease

elllll my love hi

i’m pretty sure you’ve beta’d both of these at some point

snippet from solvent for caustic scars chapter two:

“God fuckin’ dammit,” Soap seethes, pressing his back against their steadily chipping cover as he checks his remaining ammo.

Empty as his current ideas.

Gaz abandons his Sisyphean task and scrambles for his radio. “Does anyone read me?”

Even the hail of bullets couldn’t mask the answering silence.

“We’re so fucked,” Gaz whispers, slumping down.

Soap peaks over the crate, attempting to get a hostile count. He needs something. Anything. Just one confirmation so he can pull himself together and come up with a semblance of a plan.

It takes a single sharp-pitched whistle blazing past his ear for him to drop back down without thought.

“Anything?” Gaz asks, scanning the room over his shoulder.

They’re running out of time. Waiting is a certain death sentence. No one is coming to save them.

“Stay here.”

“What?”

—

get cliffhangered >:]

snippet from pithy observations of canine incisors:

Soap stopped going to church long before he signed his name on the dotted line, signing his life away right along with it. Years have passed since he last stepped foot on those crumbling steps. It’s been longer since he made it through the threshold.

He wonders if someone’s repainted the guardrail yet. Years of sea salt lingering after heavy storms chipped away at that white paint. The salt filled the air—so heavy the taste would linger in the back of his throat for hours—and over the years he’d watch the paint chips crumble.

Back in the day, before the violence and bloodshed, when he was still a stupid kid, he’d go to church. Not a single Sunday passed where the entire MacTavish family wouldn’t stuff themselves into those rows of stiff wooden pews. They looked the part, too, all dressed up in their finest clothes. All dolled up with ironed shirts, shined shoes, and a tie he fucked up so many times.

His older sister, Elspeth, would take it from his clumsy hands and show him how to do it properly. Time and time again, she’d take it without a skip in the beat, and tie the damn thing like hadn’t done it the week before. She’d admonish him every time, telling him they had to look their best when in front of God.

Little John MacTavish—so stupid and so goddamn naïve—would grin up at her with a gapped grin and tell her, “But God’s always watchin’. That’s what you said. He knows every part of you inside and out.”

He would be so fucking proud of saying it. So pleased, like he personally made God proud. Like God would approve of his entire being. At the time, he thinks God might’ve done so. Back when he still had faith in a higher power above. When the MacTavish’s still got together and played the part of picture-perfect family in front of the town.

Sometimes, he still wonders if the townspeople ever found out his old man could drink all of them under the table with ease. Did they ever think about how he would drink and drink until he bristled about, red in the face? How with every bottle downed, he’d get real damn mean.

His old man wasn’t always like that, and Soap doesn’t remember when the bastard crossed the line and never looked back. Couldn’t be sure if he ever knew the line existed in the first place.

Soap’s not an expert on God anymore—doesn’t know if he ever perceived himself as such—and he’s never been good at figuring out why he wasn’t good enough to love. But he’s sure as hell God doesn’t like men that beat on their kids and wife.

His faith crumbled over the years right alongside the white paint. Chipped away with every purple bruise stretched across his skin and the tight funds spent on makeup. Covered those dark bruises right up, every swipe of the brush accompanied by acidulous accomplishment.

What a waste of money. What a waste of time believing in a God who did fuck all for him.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Good afternoon! I'm actually the one who requested Frollo x an fem!albino!reader, and I loved your work too much. I'd like to request a second part with these two, if you don't mind.😅

Protecting the pale flower

warning : angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, cuddling, obsession, no use of Y/n, fem reader

Part.1

Info : Very happy to write a second part for this and thank you for the request @catmint01 . This one here will be a little more angst but I still hop you like it. Again thank you and everyone have fun reading :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had watched this pretty pale flower long enough and had chased after it long enough. Clung to every flower he could find. Had watched it, even had it inspected.

Wanted to make sure she didn't hurt herself, that she was safe. Even though he knew she was safest with him, judge of the city of Paris, judge of the people and her judge who would take care of her.

But the kiss had happened, he had kissed his favorite, made her his, she had worn the ring, played the harp, undressed for him, removed the veil, in her wealth, she had emerged as a shining star.

But days had passed since then, days that threatened to turn into weeks because he had hardly seen her after their kiss when they had finally touched.

He still remembered the overwhelming yet devotion that had shimmered in her bright reddish eyes. ,,I know you're waiting for me," he mumbled, looking out of his window at his beloved's presence. But he could see no light, no light from the candles and torches.

But he also knew something was wrong when she didn't show up at the church that Sunday, neither for morning, noon or evening service, when he personally stayed until the last candles were burned out.

The bells had fallen silent and the choir of people had dispersed to the last. ,,You haven't seen her either, Archdeacon?" He had asked the old man who was about to lock up the church.

He was no fool and had stayed away from the older man for a reason. But he saw the worry in his eyes, ,,Didn't you notice...her father passed away two days ago".

The words hit him like the spark in a coffin. Why hadn't he noticed? He remembered when a new problem was reported at the city walls, a new pack of travelers to whom he had to turn.

With a nod, he walked out of the church faster than usual and went back to his horse, the black stallion snorting as his owner moved the reins slightly to ride in the direction of the approach.

How could I forget you? he thought, cursing as he rushed through the streets and saw that the sun was almost set in the sky.

He wouldn't miss it, not when the moon came up. He ignored the leather of the reins in his hands, remembering her sweet softness the gentle smile the sweet irritation when he had finally kissed her.

Her body now covered in tears and fear - no, he couldn't let that happen. She was only allowed to turn to him and cry in his arms, she was his. His pretty flower.

With a yank on the reins, Snowball came to a stop with a whinny as he dismounted. Knocking at the courtyard door, her servant opened the door for him, ,,Judge Frollo do you wish?" the older man asked him and was already pulling off his robe when he looked around frantically.

,,Where is she?" he asked, almost nagging, when he saw that her coat and robe were not hanging on the hook, but what did that mean?

Before he could hurry up the stairs the other interrupted him, ,,She's at the cemetery, she's taken her own horse, shall I give her something-" but before the offer could be spoken Frollo was past him, slamming the door behind him before following the light trail he had, hurrying after Snowball.

The fear that she had done something at the cemetery was the sun, which was as strong as ever on the hill. The cemetary was on the only hill in the town full of iron, stone and wooden crosses.

Looking around, he rode over the graveyard, it was nothing that he was damaging graves and dams, she was more important. She was the most important thing, she was his and no one would take her away from him. But there.

Then, as he turned his gaze to the tree where the recently deceased were buried, he saw her. Her name calling again and again he steered his stallion there, almost dismounting while still riding before hurrying to her.

,,Darling," he said, reaching for her hand as he saw the pained sound she made and his eyes glazed over as he walked around her, finally blocking out the sun that was retreating behind the clouds and hiding her.

,,Frollo...what are you doing here?" she mumbled, her voice filled with tears, the pain of her father's death too much for her.

But this painful wince was repeated when he put his fingers on her arms and saw that she had probably been here for several hours, if not since the funeral.

,,What have you been doing?" he asked, pulling her gently towards him, knowing that her sensitive skin was sunburned, more painful for her than for him.

,,Mourned...cried...tried to go on," she confessed as she slowly let Frollo guide her back, her fingers trembling, clutching the white handkerchief he had given her to wipe away her tears.

He took off his robe, the dark tunic slightly too light in the wind, but he put the cloak around her to protect her from any light as he led Snowbald back by the reins to her place of residence.

His gaze went to her every now and then, the pain in her eyes yet he saw the slight smile a smile of hope.

A hope he gave her and could only give her. I'll be there for you, my wife, don't worry, I'll stay with you," he assured her as they went into her house, leaving the butler to look after the horse and rider. Frollo practically threw the incapable man out of the house to the horse to take his flower.

On her bed she saw a blush on her cheeks as she wore only an undergarment with her evening cloak, her arms, legs and hands visible to the older man who reached for the cooling ointment.

,,Thank you," she murmured, looking from the dancing flames of the candles to the older man. She saw his grin as he continued to apply the cream and tinctures to the injured skin as carefully as possible.

,,I think that should smell i'll take care of your wounds though my pretty flower you won't have any more leaves ripped out" he mumbled and took her bandaged hand in his the smell of lavender from the tincture hung in the room as he placed his lips on her wrist.

He showed a surprised expression as he looked up from his hand to her as she held him in her arms. She kissed him, she wanted him like he had said she would, she was united in the pain she felt.

The love they felt would heal he was sure of it. I love you and I'll stay with you forever," he said, pulling her into his arms and running his hands gently over her wounds.

He knew that when the candles burned out and the room was lit only by the moon, their beauty would blossom and their love together would be secure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@kissingonclouds , @catmintO1 , @fics-i-like-shhhhh @wassupyou ,@cedric-my-beloved , @aliensthegreat

[anonazure]

The sheriff treating his adult scary children like babies?

The sheriff treating them like his precious baby boys in public?

“Richie, what did I say about smoking? Put.It.Out!”

“Mitch, kiddo, we use our words before we use our fists. You’re 36, I shouldn’t have to say these things.”

“Stiles, for the love of Christ speak English. You’re butchering my mother language.” (The man, in my head, was born and raised in Poland until he was like ten. Polish is his first language and while he’s got English down packed and uses that predominantly in public he speaks polish mostly at home with the family. People in town look at them all weird when they speak Polish so he feels weird about speaking it in public and Stiles? He butchers it. Like a lot. Think Spanglish but with Polish.)

“He daddio, there’s this new laser tag place that opened up in town-”

“Father mine, daddy-man, please please please please can I borrow the armored truck? Jackson’s visiting and I wanna relive old times with the fucker I mean my precious friend-”

“…Dad…can I just sleep in the office? Richie talks in his sleep and moves around a lot so the bunk beds shake. I tried staying with stiles but he’s only got one bed and he’s clingy. And drools. I don’t want to accidentally sleep shoot my brothers.”

Sheriff, at his breakfast book, hasn’t even had coffee when his three children came barreling in to annoy him and this 7AM on a Sunday.

He sighs.

“Richie, if you swindle or threaten any children at laser tag you’re grounded. Stiles, no. And I don’t mean no you can’t wink wink, I do not mean no but do it anyway so long as I don’t notice. I mean no, don’t. You cannot. Do it and you’re grounded. And Mitch,” The sheriff takes a long drink of his black coffee. “If you’re okay with that sure. If not just bunk with me till we can get the spare sorted out with a bed.”

The kids all separate for the day and unsurprising he grounds 34 year old Richie for threatening a group of twelve year olds “they started it!”

Grounds Stiles for stealing the armored truck, “I was gonna put it back!” And laughs at his community service. Hard. “It’s not fair! Scott was there too of course he was there so I didn’t do too much damage but he was!”

And Mitch? Well he doesn’t have to ground Mitch. Mitch is a silent child who sometimes scares him by just appearing out of the darkness but is his good boy. Mitch is the one that doesn’t give him any ounce of trouble.

He also sleeps like the dead and keeps the sheriff up at night to check his breathing with a mirror, so there’s that too.

At least he couldn’t get any worse. Until the front door bursts open and they see a colorful mass barreling towards the sheriff, the hug is tight, he is lifted up off the ground. He pats the top of the bleach blonde head.

“Colin, kid, how you been?”

“Big Papa you have no idea!” Colin has his phone out and angled for selfies.

Whoever said kids keep you young has never met the Stilinski’s. And there is still two more out there that have yet to make it home. This sheriff wonders if he has room in the house and he’s trying to figure out how he did it the first time around.

(Cuz it’s a funny idea and you liked it the first time😊

This is the best thing I've ever read about the Stilinski family

[lucystark12]

i very very rarely listen to running up that hill but i am right now and it's just like holy shit YOU HAD TO BE THERE (weird reflection post that i just randomly started writing and couldn't stop for some reason about my depression lol that was supposed to be cute and lovey about my love for stranger things but ended up being really somber)

i didn't immediately watch season 4 when it came out on may 27th, because friday may 27th was the day that i came back from a week long class trip to the deep depths of northern washington (hell on earth, no mans land, if you will) and since my parents were out of town for my mom's 50th birthday, i was going straight to my best friend's house to stay over for the weekend. that i did. my best friend everly, whom i was staying with, always falls asleep really early, so at some point in the early hours of may 28th, probably around 1 am, i pulled out my phone and starting watching stranger things. i had spent the entire spring rewatching after all.

i got to where chrissy got possessed and immediately had to turn it off because i was in seventh grade and the bone cracking thing scared me to death (this was before i watched GOT for the first time, my tolerance for gore was not as high as it is now)

such began the first of many times where i'd neglect watching my favorite show for no reason. i did it with house of the dragon season 2 as well. so, a few days later i left everly's house and my grandma came to stay at my house with me while my parents were finishing out the rest of their trip.

at this point, the whole internet was already talking about running up that hill. it was that sunday when i decided i had to watch the show. who the fuck was i kidding? i loved stranger things. problem was, my grandma is and will always be the worst tv hog in the history of the world, so with a shitty disaster movie playing in the background, i put in one airpod and finally started watching stranger things season four.

this was a particularly rainy spring for portland, something that literally scarred me at the time because i was nearing the end of the worst depressive episode of my entire life, and the sun not being able to peek out of the trees like it had in late may last summer and every summer before that was something so insignificant yet something that really was sending me off the edge. i didn't realize how far off the edge i already was at the time. my other best friend had just started taking medication for her depression, which manifested very differently in ways that mine didn't. she was mad. she was resentful. between the few moments that she was the same laughing, loving girl i'd always known, she hated me and our other friends and hated herself more. my cousin likewise had depression so bad he couldn't get out of bed. he hadn't been to school in three months. i wasn't like that. i thought i was happy comparatively. i was diagnosed with OCD the year before and thought that was an explanation. it took getting a new therapist and unpacking my behavior back then to understand what was really happening. i never cried. when i did, it was violent. it came in bursts that lasted all afternoon. i started and i didn't stop until i fell asleep. i threw things, i refused to talk to anybody. i was failing math, which i've never done before. i couldn't understand a thing. i didn't even care to try. i hated myself. the only thing i ate was a bowl of craisins at school every day because i couldn't physically force myself to eat. i thought i was just tired even though i got ten hours of sleep every day. i was always exhausted. my therapist couldn't diagnose me because after years of being taught i had to be perfect, i refused to tell even her that there was something wrong. i thought i was stupid, i thought i was ugly, i thought i was worthless. i thought i was just experiencing what it's like to be twelve years old.

so, another rainy and overly misty sunday afternoon passed me by as i reached the ending of the fourth episode, and finally, the fated song that i'd been hearing all over tiktok and didn't quite understand yet started playing out of max's walkman. i watched the entire scene with my grandma barking questions at me about why i was tearing up.

running up that hill was my most played song of 2022, just ahead of africa by toto.

now i'm not going to say that stranger things brought me out of said depressive episode, because it didn't. the four months ahead of me were four of the hardest of my life still to this day, just as the six before them had already been. but i've grown a lot since then, and two years later when i was in spain alone, sick and crying, experiencing a little week long bout of similar feelings to the ones i felt when i first watched season four, the show weirdly managed to find me again.

the week before i had left to study abroad in spain i had learned that i got a B+ in math instead of an A- in math because my teacher wouldn't round up my 89.9%. it might seem trivial especially because a B+ is incredible process from the algebra i had nearly failed for the second time in the row the year before, but sometimes things like that can be enough to cause somebody to fall back into old habits and feelings. estranged from everybody and everything i'd turned into coping mechanisms for hard times like these when i was literally half the world away, i didn't know what to do. so, when i was in my dorm with food poisoning from a salad i'd eaten the night before, i decided to press on the byler analysis video that had popped up in my youtube feed. such began what i've been calling my "stranger things renaissance"- a second stranger things phase that's been going on since late june.

not to sound overly bylerish, but i've been seeing a lot of parallels between this summer and the summer season four came out. for reasons out of my control, i've been forced to spend a lot of time alone. this summer when i've started feeling lonely, i've taught myself that rather than overthink, to channel it into something else like writing, or doing something that will calm me down. now when i'm home alone and haven't seen a friend in a few days, i'm not sad anymore. i think "well damn" and then i move on with my night. i'm no longer depressed. with the help of my new therapist, i've gotten really close to growing out of my OCD. i no longer have to pray every night. i don't wake up in a cold sweat if i go to bed at 10:31 instead of a "perfect number" like 10:30 or 10:35. i rarely lock my bedroom door anymore. and no, it's not perfect yet. i'm not "cured"- i still have my crying episodes. i still have moments, even though they're few and far between now, where i feel the same way i did back when i was twelve.

but i'm moving on. things have shifted in my life. i've grown up and this show has with me. i started watching it on halloween of 2019 when i was in fifth grade and my friends and i did the "goodbye mike" trend in my basement. i watched the first three episodes that night and finished it for the first time during covid. it was with me through that hard time back in the day, and for some strange (haha) reason, it's with me now, and will probably continue to be with me until the show ends, because like as typically happens when i fall back into obsession with something i liked when i was a little younger, (the mcu, harry potter which remanifested in the marauders) it becomes more than a phase, but a part of me in some weird way.

stranger things may have its flaws and it might not end the way i wanted it to, but for the rest of my life it will be special to me regardless. i'm finally for the first time in my life older than the characters. i was seven when season one came out, eight when season two, ten during season three, 12-13 and season four, and will be 16 in season five.

so thanks, stranger things, for helping me, and thanks even more for showing her that there's nothing wrong with the many different aspects of her that she'd been led to believe were wrong. as corny as it sounds, she couldn't have done it without you 🫶

(say hi to baby lucy, because it's always more fun with pictures, and because depression can happen to anybody no matter what they might look or act like on the surface)

rip 2022 lucy, you would have loved the byler sunset pictures that you somehow would have found a way to relate to reddie and your best friend that you were highkey in love with. you also would have loved mike wheeler if i could explain who he really is to you because said in an EARLY analytical essay that "All I really gained from season four though was that I absolutely hate older Mike and that I wish he would’ve died instead of Max." in the same essay you say you wish you could throw mike of a cliff. oh the irony. (please laugh)

ps: if you ever find yourself feeling anything like what i described in this post, know that it gets better even if it seems like that's what everybody says and it seems like it never will. there were times back then when i didn't even know if i'd make it to the age i am right now, and now i'm at one of the happiest points ive ever been in my life. know that even if we've never talked before, i love you and i believe in you. my blog is always a safe place if anybody out there ever needs anybody to talk to.

[ash-is-dying]

Mr. Perfectly Fine: Chap 2

A/N: It’s like 12am right now and i’ve been doing this since 9pm... really wanted to get another chapter done and dusted and I actually really like this one so hope you enjoy! 

P.S. Also let me know if you want me to make a taglist at all...

Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.0k

Chapter 2: Mr. Here To Stay

---

That one interaction hung over your head for the rest of the week. What once was a peaceful and calming place to relax was now haunted by the presence of one aggravating barista. Unfortunately for you the closest coffee place aside from Grateful Bread was blocks away and not worth the walk, so you were stuck with Eddie, the pretty barista from hell.

Avoiding him proved to be easier said than done. He worked most mornings as you’d come to find, on days it was just him you’d wait until the morning rush brought an extra pair of hands to the register and when he placed your order on the bench which made him roll his eyes every time you made sure to wait until he’d moved onto the next order before collecting it. Mornings had become a game of cat and mouse except when you were around Eddie it felt more like starving lion and mouse.

Your one reprieve was on the blessed Sunday morning when you walked in to see Wayne working the counter and Eddie nowhere in sight. Risking it even if he could just be in the back or on break, you swiftly approach the owner who spots you and breaks into a tired smile. “The usual?”

You smiled softly. “You know me too well Wayne.”

He nods and makes his way over to the coffee machine preparing the myriad of ingredients for your usual drink. You stand there watching quietly until your curiosity gets the better of you. “So who’s the new hire? I’ve seen him around recently but haven’t gotten the chance to talk with him yet.” You said lying through your teeth in the hopes of finding out anything about the pretty asshole making your life miserable from afar.

“Eddie? Yeah he just moved to town, needed some quick cash while he settles into school so I thought I’d let him serve while he gets on his feet. Barista is most certainly not his dream job.” He said shaking his head and laughing.

You smile in return, Wayne’s laughter becoming contagious. “You know him too well?” Wayne closed his eyes and shook his head,

“Only lived in my trailer for the first twenty years of his life, the bum. Still hasn’t paid me back a cent for his college degree.”

The realization dawns on your face and your eyes widen, “So you two are…”

Wayne looks up and shrugs, “Yup, that couch potato is my good for nothing nephew” he says kind heartedly, “he’s really more like a son to me than anything, he’s been living cross country for a bit and decided to finally settle down closer to home.” He sighs. “More than anything I’m just glad he’s back in my life for a bit, won’t be long before he gets some savings and goes off on another road trip and I’ll tell you one thing that boy does not look back.” He finishes his speech and puts the lid on your coffee cup to go gently sliding it across the counter. “Sorry darl, feel like I’ve been hogging the conversation. Much going on with you?”

Still reeling from Wayne’s admissions about Eddie the questions fly through your head a mile a minute. ‘How on earth is Eddie your nephew? Why is he such an asshole? Why is he in town? How long’s he around for?’ And yet all that comes out of your mouth is; “No. Not really, just stopping by before my music lecture.”

Wayne nods and reaches for the small bakery display window pulling out some tongs and placing a custard danish into a brown paper bag and placing it in front of you. “On the house. You gotta be taking care of yourself girl.”

“Oh no- no- really its fine Wayne, ill grab something on the way home.” You smile  before he crosses his arms.

“I ain’t arguing, enjoy your breakfast kiddo.” Before you can reject him again he slips away back to the front counter. You blush and tentatively grab the pastry before leaving to head to class, mentally beating yourself up for letting Wayne do that for you.

The guilt begins to wash away as you eat the flaky treat on your walk to campus, the custard is sweet and the pastry is sticky as you hold the bag while you eat, trying to save your fingers from the inevitable. By the time you finally reach the building your sweater is covered in crumbs and the leftover hot chocolate is now lukewarm. You stretch and sit down on a nearby bench, pulling out your music notebook trying to get something down before class, your mind continuing to wander to the tattooed boy who is becoming more intriguing by the day.

---

As you walk in you notice the classroom looks different than usual. The lecture hall has been rearranged. Desks are now set aside in pairs and there is labels on every other desk, some form of assigned seating unfamiliar to the students, you included. You look around and find your chair in the back corner, your desk mate being nowhere in sight. As everyone found their name tag and sat in place the professor started to speak.

“I’m sure you’re all curious why you’ve been seated this way today. I’ve decided that it is time for you all to work on your collaboration skills, a musician must learn to work with a conductor, songwriter and above all else other musicians in order to progress their skills to a more professional level.”

Your eyebrows furrow as the desk beside you remains empty and your attention wanders to your partners tag.

Edward Munson.

Whoever he is he must be new, the class only consists of about fourteen people so keeping track of names is not something you struggle with. Someone you’ve never met and have no experience with in the slightest is who you’re going to be depending on for your music degree. Someone who isn’t even here for the first class of the new course. Lucky you.

You turn back to the professor.

“I have paired you with those who I believe have different music tastes and styles to you going off of your application demos you submitted when you joined this extension class. This will be work the majority of your grade this semester so I suggest you make it count. Spend this first class getting to know your partner and begin to understand who they are, after today I expect you to no longer be strangers.”

You resign yourself to spend the class scrawling in your notebook possible style collaboration ideas, a gut feeling telling you that you’d be completing most of this task. Your headphones go in as the sound of ABBA takes you away from the slight disappointment of not having a partner. Due to this your ears only catch half of what is happening outside your little bubble. There is the sound of the door opening behind you and some mumbled speech hard to make out before a certain phrase catches in your ears.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Clear as day a familiar voice penetrates your brain and causes you to look up beside you. There stands a boy in what seems to be pajama pants, deep grey ones with lightsabers wrapping around the legs. He also wears a stained and well worn iron maiden shirt as his teased curls sit on his shoulders, his whole body slumped over, his eyebrow raised in annoyance as the current bane of your existence glares into your eyes.

Edward Munson.

Eddie Munson.

Shit.

The pair of you stay silent processing what this all means. This is so much worse than working with a stranger.

“Glad to see you’ve shown up. I think we can skip the pleasantries and just get to work.”

“Agreed.”

He sits, more flops into his chair looking over your shoulder at what you had been working on. He closes his eyes and rests his head on his arms. The smell of cheap cologne and sweat fills your nose as you frown and continue to write on your own. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t shown up. At least then you’d still have your sense of smell.

This is how the class continues until the professor comes around to read your notes. “These are all good ideas I like them a lot.” A smile graces your face. “But… I don’t know if I’m seeing much of Mr. Munson in here.” Your smile falters slightly. “Have you two been getting to know each other like I asked?”

This perks Eddie up as he lifts his head and opens his eyes slightly. “Oh trust me sir we’re well acquainted.”

The teacher leans back on the desk in front of them. “Then tell me what her favourite song is, favourite colour, where she works, anything at all that you’ve been talking about.” Eddie sits in silence formulating his reply.

“She has almond milk in her coffee.” He replies smugly causing you to scoff.

“He’s a barista at my local cafe sir it hardly counts. He doesn't even remember my name.” You slide your hand over your name card as he grimaces at you.

“As if you remember anything about me.” He responds snarkily.

You sigh and turn to face him. “Your name is Edward Munson but you obviously prefer to be called Eddie, you work at the café Grateful Bread most days a week except for when you come to your music lectures. You obviously don’t particularly care about being on time for said classes and I’d say you feel the same way about work and you get away with it because your boss is your uncle Wayne. You can’t stand it here and you can’t stand me and I’m almost entirely certain as soon as you can afford it you’re leaving this place for good.” You cross your arms as Eddie’s mouth moves and no words come out.

The professor is the first to speak “Sounds like you’ve got some homework to do Mr. Munson. I suggest you both spend more time getting to know each other properly and less time psychoanalyzing each other. I’m expecting big things from you two, you are by far the most advanced students in this course after all and I hope you can be mature and sort this out like adults.” He stands and moves to the next group leaving you both in the same uncomfortable silence as before.

“So… what’s your favourite colour then.” Eddie asks in a monotonous voice.

“Black.” You respond sharply.

He looks at you like you just spat in his face. “Black’s not a colour. It’s a shade.”

Your fist clenches as you hold back the snarky comment stuck in your throat. “It has to be a colour as light is absorbed by it and we can physically see it with our eyes.”

“Uh no. Black is a combination of colours meaning it can’t be a colour itself it just exists as a shade.”

“Your logic makes no sense. If black is just a combination of other colours then how is it not a colour it’s just a darker tone than other colours.”

The palm of his hands dig into his eyes. “Even your favourite colour is dumb I swear-”

“And what makes your favourite colour so great?”

“My favourite colour is dark red like a normal person and it is the best colour.”

“That’s not even a proper argument- Why did you even start this fight? You sound like such a child.”

“At least I’m not an uptight prude.”

“Up yours Munson.”

The class is dismissed soon after and Eddie stays seated whilst you pack up your things. “I’ll write you a copy of my notes so you know what our project is.” You move to leave before turning back sticking your nametag lopsided to his desk. “That’s my name by the way asshole in case you ever wanted to actually know who you’re bothering with your childish bullshit.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind sweetheart.”

You scowled as you walked out of the lecture hall, your head hurting and your face on fire as it dawned upon you that Eddie Munson was becoming Mr. Here To Stay.