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dolly-on-the-dotted-line · 2 years

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Interlude: Doorway

Pash: A brief infatuation for something.

Rating: 18+ (for consistency)

Warnings: None

A/N: Thinking thoughts about the first time Javi and Bug come head to head after that night. Enjoying the process of these two working one another out. Also... yes we're back! Plenty of Changes queued up and coming soon. Got over my own anxieties and just decided to jump back in.

Laredo, Winter, Age 19: Doorway

“So this is where you’re hiding?”

You look up from the buffet table in the back room to find Javier staring down at you, an expression of imposed disappointment on his face as he tut tut tuts comedically.

“Hardly hiding,” you scoff back, determined not to rise to his teasing so easily, “I’m just looking for something to drink.”

Settling for another beer, you offer it up instinctively for him to open and watch as he props the cap against the edge of the table and smacks it with the butt of his hand to loose the top.

You grimace at the mark it leaves on the woodwork and rub at it half-heartedly for a second. The boy is a well-meaning bull in a china shop.

“Evening’s that bad, hey?”

“No,” you ponder fairly, “it’s one of my favourite nights of the year. I'm just a little... overwhelmed.”

This was technically an adequate truth.

The yearly Christmas gathering was your favourite. It had been for as long as you could remember. But since you’d moved to college, home, surprisingly, was not.

While you had expected to come running back with open arms, simply needing a few weeks to clear your head of the complicated events of the summer, the long semester had transformed the harder parts of your life with a welcome reprieve.

The suspicions you'd been harbouring had come to roost. Leaving had been good for you, great even.

As you started to get a real glimpse of the kind of life you could be living, one free of the aches and pains you couldn't help but feel here, your list of priorities in Texas was dwindling, with only two very notable exceptions.

Consequently, being back so soon felt like a confusing sentence, tearing you between your need for space and your desire to be with the people you loved most.

It was a dilemma you weren't emotionally equipped to deal with just yet, and one that was feeling all too apparent in a room full of people you'd known your whole life.

“Missing school?”

“Not exactly. It's more than that. It’s more that I’m not missing many people here, if that makes sense.”

He frowns at you, opening a beer for himself with another smack and taking a long drink, eyeing you warily as he does it.

“I’m going to assume that doesn’t extend to me, you know.”

“Good,” you smirk back, feigning annoyance. “I’m not stroking your ego just for the sake of it. But you know I don’t mean you. Once I’ve ticked off you and Pa, the rest of it just feels... tricky.”

“They’re not here, you know, if that’s what you’re worried about. Pa asked them not to come anymore. Not that I think they even would.”

Your heart simultaneously sinks and soars with the pull of your different emotions. Your old family and your new one, very deliberately apart.

Your parents were long gone, packed up and across state lines as far as you were aware. The distance didn’t always help, though. You still found the impression of walking in familiar spaces jarring, despite their positive connotations.

Sometimes the knowledge that they seemingly had nothing to come back for was painful enough. Contradictory bastards.

“It’s not just them… but it is usually mainly them,” you resign, forcing a pathetic laugh along with it. “Call it… residual bad energy, superstition-,”

“-Trauma,” he butts in shamelessly, but not unkindly.

Mincing words with him was admittedly useless, you knew that, but you often forgot to give him credit for the astuteness of his assessments, even now.

Hiding from him was best done in plain sight. That was the only way you could get anything past him, by making it obvious. But, even then, the chances of getting away with it unscathed were slim to none.

He didn’t miss a beat when it came to your biggest foible, and knowing your parents had packed up without even saying goodbye as soon as you'd moved to college was always going to have its consequences eventually.

The two of you turn in the small space to prop yourselves up against the table, your shoulder immediately bumping up against his as he places himself as close to you as possible.

It’s muscle memory, you think, the way the two of you slot into place against one another no matter the available space.

“You still love it here, though, right?” You ask, trying to hide the way your voice wavers just a little.

After spending a lifetime together, you wonder if you’ve come to find certainty in his own; vicariously living through the absolute faith he has in his definitions of home, or justice, or family.

His confidence is electric, and it’s hard to avoid the feeling of affiliation he seems to carry with him wherever he goes, no matter the room he enters. It’s an addictive sensation, the assurance that you belong, but also an uncomfortable reflection of where your own skillset… lacks.

What’s it like to be so sure of everything all the time?

“Me? Yeah. Of course,” he replies roughly, keen to display just how obvious your assumption is, how automatic that reply is. It’s a line practice-perfect from repetition, time and time again.

“This place is everything to me. I could never say no.”

What would it be like for you to do what you want for once, Javi?

“Couldn’t say no, or wouldn’t?” you tag on frivolously, turning to look up at him for just a second as you ask.

He smiles blithely but doesn’t reply, instead tucking his arm around you lovingly when he sees your unsure expression.

In the same vein, you wonder how much of his insecurity he hides under your own. A familiar scapegoat for complicated ideas about insufficiency, independence, and guilt, that have no place in the mind of someone who has everything laid out before them.

You rode the waves of your unfortunate circumstances with a half-hearted smirk on your face. Javi, on the other hand, was more reliant on the good nature of things.

Swings and roundabouts. Que sera, sera.

You notch your head into his shoulder without a second thought, focusing on the way you meld together, bit by bit, seeping easily into comfortable companionship whenever the proximity allows for it.

When you were little you used to hypothesise about stepping into one another's bones, walking together, talking together, stuck together like glue. Now you think you truly understand what that would feel like, to occupy that space the way you try to now.

You think it would feel good.

Four years of college is quite a long time, you consider, perhaps for the first time. This semester alone had been the longest you'd ever been apart.

The rest of it after that is even longer.

It wasn't just the difficult stuff that bothered you about being back. It was the nice stuff, too. Maybe they were one and the same.

Maybe you were going to really miss this bastard.

“It wouldn’t be the same without you, though,” he adds, just to be sure that the sentiment is clear despite your divided nostalgia. He knows how much you need to hear it sometimes, and how easy it is for him to stoke the gaps in your opinions.

“You know that.”

The combination of his tone and his arm around you almost makes it believable.

And so you just stand there like that for a minute, propped against the table, watching the people go by and taking remedy in the fact that even you had something to offer the golden boy, because even he did not possess everything.

After a moment, as if he’s let the cogs in his head finally come to a stop, you catch him in your peripheral turning his head upwards and staring toward the ceiling. Hatching a plan, scheming and scheme.

“It’s bad luck not to, you know.”

“Not to what?” you query, genuinely confused by his choice subject.

“Kiss.”

He draws his eyes up more deliberately to the mistletoe strung above the doorway on a decorative piece of ribbon, and takes another long drink as he brings his eyes down to meet yours again, waiting.

Outside of the realms of his usual conversation, he’d laid off the flirting since the ‘incident’ last summer.

He had been right: nothing changed. Not for him, anyway.

If anything, you could even say things had gone the other way; you felt more assured of the exacting nature of your relationship now that you’d been able to carry on as if not a thing had changed.

He hadn’t made it awkward, in fact, he’d barely mentioned it at all. As expected, he’d been nothing short of the perfect gentleman. And you couldn’t help but be a little disappointed by that fact.

When you lay awake unable to fall asleep, tracing the memory of the places he’d reached, you took a conflicted comfort in the notion that that night was your little secret, a sacred gap in time that belonged in some untouchably sweet way to just the two of you.

Instead of seeing it as a blip in your friendship, you visualised it as a loop; raising the stakes, careening over, and then gently coming to land exactly where you had been. It’s how these things worked, you suppose. People take what they need, give something back in return, and then go their separate ways.

It happens all the time. Right?

Your relationship has always been an affectionate tug of give and take, just like this conversation. You demonstrate the need for comfort, he steps right in to offer it. That night had been no different.

Just bigger, further.

And this was just another example of that.

Right?

And people kiss, too. All the time.

Right…?

“We’ve done worse than kiss,” he offers softly, as if reading your mind.

When he makes little comments like this - sideways remarks, dirty jokes - his voice takes on a completely different tone. It’s warm and deep, as if he can cover up the trail of what he’s saying with the intoxicating hum of the way the words sound.

It’s hard not to be affected, however insincere he may be. He’s too good at it.

“You said that last time, and look where that ended up,” you manage to shoot back, but you find your words equally glazed, practically simmering with the intention clinging to the underside of them.

He’s setting a paper trail and you’re shocked by how easily your words are setting it alight.

It’s intriguing. Maybe things had changed more than you'd realised.

“I thought it went well.”

“I could say the same.”

“So really,” he begins, changing tact now to something altogether more direct, more rational, “what we’re both saying here, is that it would be unreasonable not to.”

“To what?” you quip back, matching his flirtatious tone now. It’s fun, you note, dancing with him like this, heavy with the knowledge that it’s all true.

You’d done much worse than this. And you’d liked it. You’d both liked it.

“To kiss.”

His reply has such a determined finality to it you both know the discussion is done. Your chemistry has backed you both into a corner, and from the way he’s leaning into you, neither of you seem particularly unhappy about it.

He’s never been so brazen with it before, though, so clear about the way he’s running his toe along the edge of the line he might be about to cross.

You feel the tension rise just a little as you consider the power you have here, for the second time now. Why not three times, or four, or more. It’s a funny sensation. You can feel in it your stomach, in your toes. You refer back to the graph in your head, the loop of the stakes rising and falling and coming to rest again.

Why not more? You loved rollercoasters.

With overexaggerated clarification, you place your beer on the table behind you, leaving both your hands free to draw your arms up and around his neck.

“Well, I guess if that’s the case, you’re right. It would be rude not to.”

You note the way he lingers as he runs his hands up your arms to secure them tightly there, encouraging your fingers to intertwine with one another until he finds himself satisfyingly locked in.

It’s indulgent, you think, how he takes his time. A kiss can be quick if the situation calls for it. This is not that.

When he finally appears to have you where he wants you, guard down, your chest only half an inch from his own, he rests his own hands at your waist and pulls, closing the gap between you completely.

You’re sure to keep your eyes locked on his, determined not to give yourself away for even a second as you observe the familiar way he tries to push your nervous tendencies to the limit. Little does he know you’re feeling anything but afraid right now. Or maybe that fact is what he’s relying on.

The fact that, for the second time now, you’re letting him lead you somewhere else.

“Merry Christmas, Bug,” he whispers lowly, that deep octave causing the words to reverberate around his throat in a way that would make your head spin if you let it.

“Merry Christmas, Javi.”

And it’s him that leans down first, scooping you gently up into his arms as he curls them around you to hold you snug against him.

You kiss once, twice, three times.

There’s a confidence about it that is simmering between the two of you, one that you can’t quite interpret in the moment.

If the summer was a demonstration of affection, assistance, this is something closer to showing, taking. It’s greedy and frivolous, without intention but also full of ambition.

For as long as you can remember you’ve both had a point to prove, a proverbial chip on your shoulder. It was why you worked so well together, a sheer determination to get things done and see them through.

But adding them together like this was lining up cards you didn’t even know you were holding. You’re both imagining what it would be like to do what you want for once.

As you lean in for the fourth time to press your mouth into his, you’re drearily reminded of exactly where you are as the piano starts off next door, followed by a surprisingly rowdy cheer from the relatively sauced attendees as the carols begin.

You linger for just a second more, liberal in the way you take your lips apart. He puts you down as deliberately as he picked you up, sure to show you that there’s nothing spontaneous about it.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” he quirks, but in the small space, he’s transparent.

Javier Peña loves women, loves to kiss them and hold them and make them feel special. This is his favourite kind of game, the one that results in his getting to show off his best sides. You almost take pride in the fact you could fall into that remit, even for a minute.

“You’re right, that was actually quite enjoyable. I could probably do that again.”

You picture it, quietly, for just a second. Letting him crowd you into the darker corner of the room. Lifting you into his arms again to kiss you, but this time with the flat of your back pressed to the wall of a quiet alcove.

He’d probably put his hands through your hair, he had done that a lot that night, would let it curl between his knuckles and maybe pull it to turn your face towards his.

He was so much taller than you when you came cheek to cheek. You liked the way he made accommodations for it, leaning down, picking you up.

He would be insistent but gentle, taking his time at first but ultimately getting carried away. It would be too fun not to, here, just a wall away from a room full of people who wouldn’t be able to let it slide; you and him, not acting the way you’re supposed to - however you’re ‘supposed to’. More fun than it should be for exactly that reason.

You and him and a whole room of disapproval. It’s not what you were supposed to do.

Or so they would say.

You see one eyebrow twitch up at your remark, but before you can say another word you collect your beer from its spot on the table and finish it off in an impressive gulp.

“Come on,” you huff, “let’s go and sing before someone asks where we’ve got to.”

He’s as cool as he can manage as he turns his face back to the crowd, unwilling to suggest he’s been caught short even slightly, especially not when it was his game to play.

“Yeah, sure. Sure, sure, sure.”

He leaves the alcove first, quickly, and you watch the back of him as he hovers in the doorway, immediately starting a conversation with the first available party he finds adjacent to him.

You bring your hand to your lips to trace the tingle of his stubble, as if you can capture the drag of it across your skin and keep it there for a little longer.

That feeling, you ponder, as you eye up his frame, his hair, the gentle slope of his body that you realise you know the shape of.

That funny, funny feeling.

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#Spotify #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic #Pedro Pascal #pedrito #Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal #javi #javier peña #javi peña #javier peña x you #Javi x Bug #young!javier peña #changes #reader insert #female reader #changes fan fiction

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1kook · 3 years

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right place, wrong time

— a someway, somehow jungkook drabble summary Home was Jungkook, it had always been Jungkook… but it wasn’t this Jungkook. warnings angst, heart ache, its actually kinda sad :/ lmfao, jk is a little... uh... como se dice.... jerk without realizing it.... justice for oc.... also there’s a scene where oc throws up so !! rating m wc 1.5k

notes THIS TAKES PLACE 5 YEARS BEFORE SWSH ITSELF ! OK ! enjoy <3 i wanted to try writing angst again <3 also i have no self control i said i would post this in 7 hrs yet here i am. and its not proofread <_<

When you were kids, the fact Jungkook’s birthday fell early on into the school year was a huge deal; everyone in your class was invited, both new and returning students, and the event itself was practically the opening scene to the school year itself. As you got older and he began to move away from colorfully decorated parties, his early birthday still earned him a lot of attention, had everyone at your high school congratulating him from the moment the first bell rang until the last. There weren’t any grand birthday bashes during high school, but the Jeons were a loving family, party or no party, and always got him a cake to celebrate each new year.

Up until you left for college, you had never missed Jungkook blowing out the candles for his birthday. Be it a backyard party bustling with kids or a smaller affair at his favorite restaurant, you had always been invited, always cheered for him with each new year of life he welcomed.

As a kid, you had always been adamant on getting the spot closest to him as you sang happy birthday, beaming at your best friend like he was your entire world. His childhood photo albums had been proof of that, filled with a chronological sequencing of every birthday he’s had with you at his side, your smiles changing with the times— from missing teeth to full of braces, you had always been at Jungkook’s side.

As a young-adult, you had to bite down your pride and watch Sojin fulfill that spot.

You had missed his last two birthdays since entering college. Your first year away from home, everyone you knew warned you about not going home too early into the year, something about how it would solidify your homesickness and you’d never be able to assimilate afterwards. So you had congratulated Jungkook from Taehyung’s phone screen, greatly appreciating the way Taehyung angled the phone away from Sojin as best he could. Then your second year, you had been drowning in that first wave of projects and essays, and simply couldn’t squeeze a five hour drive there and back into your schedule. Jungkook understood; there was no party this year, just a simple family dinner. The video call ended soon after you congratulated him, his attention drawn away by the voice of another woman you knew all too well.

For his twenty-first birthday, Jungkook was adamant that you attend. He had told you about it before you had left for the new semester, bent over by the front wheels of your car, making sure everything was in tip-top shape before you went off again. His t-shirt was drenched in sweat, trails running down his hairline, over the prominent veins of his neck.“I want you there,” Jungkook had said, taking your offered hand as he stood back up. He must have miscalculated— or maybe it was on purpose —his step, because when he stepped forward, he was all too close. He didn’t let go of your hand. “Please?”

Your eyes flickered over his chest, to his neck. He smelled like home, or at least the image of it you had created in your mind during your last two years away. Home was lavender fabric softener billowing over you in waves, the faint traces of this morning’s cologne, the subtle scent of his metallic work tools. It was his chocolate curls tickling his eyebrows, his easygoing smile, the way he pulled you closer, made the scents wash over you all over again.

It was Jungkook. It was Jungkook. It was Jungkook and his warm touch. It was Jungkook and his softened gaze. Home was Jungkook, it had always been Jungkook… but it wasn’t this Jungkook. It wasn’t this Jungkook and the hickey on his neck.

The sight made your stomach recoil, eyes quickly averted from the site of the crime. He had gotten here later than usual, said something about having to take Sojin somewhere first. So that’s what that meant. Jungkook, unaware of the fact the collar of his t-shirt has let you in on his private life, squeezes your hand. “You’ll come, won’t you?”

And you were stupid and you were in love, so of course you said yes.

It’s a cookout this year, his backyard filled to the brim with relatives and friends and so many cans of beer you don’t know what to do. His parents are ecstatic for your return, babbling on and on about how much he missed you for the last two birthdays. You take it in stride, and maybe in a different timeline you would have believed it, but not this one. Aside from greeting you at the door and taking your keys off your hands, you had barely seen the birthday boy all day. You mingle with old friends, his relatives, tentatively sip at your can of soda. You’re tired, the long drive having sapped the majority of your energy for the day.

Sometime around sunset, you meet eyes with him across the yard. Jungkook smiles, he always smiles. You okay? he mimes with a thumbs-up, and you want to say yes, but Sojin is sitting on his lap, an obnoxiously loud display, and when he puts his hand back down, it immediately finds its home on her thigh. You send him a half-hearted shrug, play it off like you're still a little carsick from the long drive here.

(Truthfully, you are sick, but you’re not sure it’s from the drive.)

Even at twenty-one, his family maintains their tradition and sings him happy birthday. With your return, his mother delegates you to cake cutting duties again, so you’re on standby for the song, at his side with the cake cutter in hand. Jungkook is grinning from ear to ear, Sojin attached to his hip, his arm sling around her shoulders. His family sings and sings, and Jungkook is happy. His eyes jump around the table, taking in the sight before him the way he does every year. And when they reach you at his side, Jungkook beams, reaches for your hand beneath the table and squeezes, all the while keeping his girlfriend closely hugged to his other side.

You cut the cake. Sojin gets her slice and promptly whisks Jungkook away.

By ten pm, you find yourself in his upstairs bathroom puking your guts out. It’s the carsickness, you tell yourself, or maybe the cake frosting, throat gagging around nothing, tears clinging to your lash line. But is it really?

“__?” someone says, and you make a weak attempt to turn towards the door. You don’t know what you expected— had you actually wanted Jungkook to find you in this sorry state? —but it isn’t Jungkook. “Shit, what happened?” Taehyung worries, hurrying to your aid. And you’re grateful that there’s someone here to help you, to save you from yourself and your stupid, heartbroken thoughts. But it’s not the man you want it to be, and that has you squeezing your eyes shut tightly, until the mascara on your lashes imprints itself against your under eyes instead.

The man you want bumps into you downstairs, catches Taehyung helping you into the spare bedroom to lie down. “__?” Jungkook calls out, eyes big and scared. “Where— what’s going on?” he asks, thrusting his plate into Sojin’s hands before rushing to your side. He grabs your forearm, and the touch burns, so you yank yourself away.

Faintly, you hear Taehyung explain. “She’s sick,” he says, pulling you closer. “She’s been out of it since she first got here. I think it was the long drive.” Yes, it was the long drive, you agree.

Jungkook, unfazed by your first recoil, reaches for your arm again. “I’ve got her,” he tells Taehyung, underestimating his strength when he tugs you closer, has you stumbling into his chest. His rough handling makes your stomach tighten, your head feel dizzy.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, hand on his chest. “Wait— I’m—“ And he’s trying to move you back up the stairs, probably into his bedroom to lie down. But the sight of the stairs and his overwhelming scent and the hickey on his neck, the hickey Sojin left on his neck, makes you nauseous all over again.

Taehyung yelps in your defense. “Jungkook,” he scolds, carefully maneuvering you out of Jungkook’s harm’s way. “You’re making it worse.”

From a few feet away, Sojin calls out his name. “Jungkook?” she says and her voice is so sweet, yet so sticky; it makes you gag. “Baby, they’re calling for you outside.”

And everyone is saying his name, so he doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know who to prioritize, not when everyone wants his attention. He looks at you, and your heart soars for a millisecond. Then it plummets when he settles on Sojin instead. “I— you’re right, Tae,” he sighs, backing off, letting go. “You got __, right?” Taehyung nods. “Call me if anything happens.”

And he leaves, slips his hand around Sojin’s waist and guides her out the door. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t even tell you to get better soon. He just leaves.

Taehyung lays you down, doesn’t say a word when you start crying because he probably thinks it’s about your stomach and the vomiting. “It’s okay,” he soothes, helping you out of your shoes. “Does it hurt?”

Yes, you sob. It hurts very badly.

#networkbangtan #jungkook #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fic #jjk #bts x reader #swshd #mine

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multi-fandom-freak0221 · 4 years

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The Shell of a Girl that I Used to Know Well

Inspired by "Love of three" by @misashabunbun

Thank you @thestressmademedoit and @maleive07 for helping me find the fic.

So this turned out to be longer than I thought it would be (probably because I based it around like 5 songs) so I'll break it into parts and post each part separately. Oh and did I mention this is songfic? Because it's a songfic! No Felix yet, but you guys do see Peter but I surprise surprise I turned this into an OT4 pairing. Anyone wanna guess who the other lucky person is to date Mari, Peter and Felix? Also bonus points for anyone who can figure out Mari's stage name.

The song in this part in Stitches by Shawn Mendes and The Lonely by Christina Perri is where I got this parts title from. Also the song mentioned at the end is Partners in Crime by Set It Off ft Ashley Costello.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was grateful for the quiet she found in what she was pretty sure was some kind of presentation room. There was a raised platform which she believes is supposed to be some kind of stage and a couple of tables with chairs surrounding them. She still has no idea how she got here, she was just trying to find some peace. She knew her pseudo Uncle and her friends meant well but they were suffocating her. It's been over a week since she left that bastard, not likely that he even noticed. Since Marinette has gotten to Stark Towers everyone has been treating her like she's about to break and she can't stand it. Yes she's hurt, but like give her a chance to fall apart before trying to shove her back together again! Marinette took a deep breath to calm herself as she sat on the little stage to work on the embroidery she was putting on the back of the blouse. She already had a full heart there but it was kind of plain. She wanted to add something but she didn't know what.

She sighed softly. At times she really missed Tikki being around to be her second opinion.

Ever since the defeat of Hawkmoth the kwamis asked to be renounced and to have their respective jewelry return the Miraculous box. They were working together to heal poor Nooroo and Dusuu. Even though Marinette had been able to fully fix the peacock Miraculous, as well as heal Emilie Agreste and Nathalie Sancour from the effects of using a broken Miraculous, the two kwamis had to deal with a significant amount of emotional trauma from the whole affair.

Even though the final battle had been won quietly without casualties it had taken a lot out of everyone who had been a part of it. Adrien's relationship with his father has been very strained to say the least. Even though Gabriel is doing his best to right his wrongs, it goes to say that the only reason Adrien even speaks to his father at all is because of his mother who is desperately trying to make up for years lost between the two of them.

While Marinette was trying to think of an idea for her embroidery she started humming a song she had heard recently on the radio. In her eyes it fit her past relationship with Damian Wayne perfectly. Soon enough she was singing softly.

I thought that I've been hurt before

But no one has ever left me quite this sore.

Even on their worst days Lila's lies, Alya's beratings, hell even Mlle. Bustier's looks of disappointment never hurt half as much as Damian's total disinterest did. She had cooked him a nice romantic dinner yet he barely acknowledged her. More interested in whatever, or should she say whoever, was on his phone. After 5 mins of trying to carry the conversation alone Marinette sighed and just decided to eat the meal she worked so hard on. After 10 mins of stiff silence in their shared apartment, only filled with the sounds of Marinette eating and Damian texting, the latter got up. Grabbing his coat he made his way to the door, barely turning his head towards his fiancee to call out "I've got to go. Something came up at work."

Marinette wasn't even shocked anymore, just resigned. Still she tried to reason with the man she no longer recognized. Sometimes she wonders if she ever truly knew him at all. "You just got here. Isn't there someone else who can handle it? You haven't even touched your dinner."

True to her words, the young heir's meal sat completely untouched, quickly cooling in the AC.

"Mari, you know these things are important. Not just anyone can handle them." Damian's words were patronizing at best. It frustrated the young designer, but she didn't let it show.

"Will you be back tonight?" She knew the answer but she asked anyway.

Damian hummed noncommittally as he walked through the door still looking at his phone and not the beautiful young lady in front of him. "Most likely not. Don't wait up for me." He quickly walked out, closing the door behind him. Marinette quickly placed her ear to the door as he walked away from the humble abode. She could hear him on the phone.

"Yeah. I'm on my way, gorgeous. I just left." Silence. "No, she doesn't suspect a thing." Nothing but his footsteps as he continues to leave unknowing of her distress behind the apartment "Perfect. The less you're wearing, the better."

Marinette crumbled to the floor after she could no longer hear him. She had suspected as much but that didn't make hearing it less painful.

Your words cut deeper than a knife

Now I need someone to breathe me back to life

She remembers the first time he truly yelled at her. The way he looked at her with disgust. The way she flinched away from his imposing figure and his cutting words. If tried hard enough she could delude herself that he was doing this out of her best interest. The illusion made even easier to believe by the way he apologized and hugged her after he stopped yelling. The way he told her he was worried about her going out and being made a target to Rogues because of her connection to him. The way he feared that he disguises wouldn't be enough even though he himself didn't recognize her at first when she walked back through the apartment door the day. She believed she was safer staying in the apartment because he said so and he only wants what's best for her. So eventually the walls of their apartment was all she saw 24/7. For her safety of course.

Got feeling that I'm going under

But I know I will make it out alive

If quit calling you my lover

And move on

Marinette's head was spinning. Or was it the room? Was she even breathing? She couldn't focus on any of that. All she could focus on was the picture sitting on the screen on her phone. The phone Damian had bought her. The idea made her feel sick now because all those gifts he was giving her now seemed to have double meanings. Especially when the picture filling her screen was of a naked Lila whose body was hidden behind a sheet lying on Damian's bare chest while he slept. She didn't even think to process how the lying bitch managed to get her number. Instead all she could focus on was tears streaming down her face as she felt her heart shatter. She didn't even process the fact that she left the phone right there with the picture still on the screen and started packing her stuff. She grabbed everything that was hers that she bought herself, later on she'd be surprised at how little that was. She stuffed her things in a small suitcase, put the miracle box in a duffle bag wrapped in her leftover fabric from commissions, grabbed her purse with her wallet and left. After locking the apartment door she slid the key underneath the door so he could have it back. He could have everything back he ever gave her. She was done. She was so distressed she didn't even notice that she had put on the one disguise she had and taken a train to New York until she was standing in the lobby of Stark Tower with her Uncle Tony and her Aunt Pepper holding her while she sobbed.

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

I'm shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Marinette was so engrossed in the lyrics, in her feelings, that she didn't notice the tears falling from her eyes, nor the way she was furiously embroidering the shirt in her hands. And she definitely didn't notice that she had gained an audience.

Just like a moth drawn to a flame

Yeah you lured me in and I couldn't sense the pain

The first time she met Damian it had been an accident. She knew when her classes started she wouldn't have the time to get the fabrics she needed for her last commissions that she agreed to before going on hiatus. She knew juggling her business and school would be hard so told her clients she'd be on break for the unforeseeable future. She was so focused on her phone trying to make sure her list was complete, that she didn't notice the man right in front of her.

"Oh!" She fell back with a little yelp and when she saw what, or who, she ran into she hurried to help them up as well. "I'm so sorry monsieur. Are you okay?"

The man yanked his hand away from her and growled, "You wouldn't be having to ask if you weren't caught up in whatever idiotic nonsense is on your phone."

Marinette fumed silently. "Well excuse me sir, I don't know who you think you are, but that is uncalled for. I apologized and helped you up. All you had to do was walk away. No need to be so rude."

Damian raised an eyebrow at her curiously. "You don't know who I am?"

Marinette crossed her arms still annoyed. "Am I supposed to? You could be the president for all I cared and I still would say you were being rude and disrespectful."

Damian's expression changed slightly to a bit of amused intrigue. "I apologize. I thought you were another fangirl with some kind of ruse to get my attention. If you don't mind me asking, what is a girl like you doing in a city like Gotham? I can tell from your accent you are not from here."

Marinette relaxed a little bit. "I'm here going to college when the semester starts, but right now I was out doing some shopping."

"Perhaps I could join you as a way to apologize for my rude behavior. I could give you a mini tour along the way." Damian smiled softly at her.

"I don't know," apprehension was clear on Marinette's face. "I don't even know you let alone your name."

Damian chuckled lightly. "I assure you, even if you don't know me, the rest of the city does. I won't be able to get away with doing anything to you without being plastered across every newspaper and magazine in town, Angel. But my name is Damian by the way. Damian Wayne." He grabbed her hand and kissed it softly after his introduction.

"A-angel?" Marinette stuttered as she blushed.

"Well, I still don't know your name."

Marinette smiled before introducing herself. "My name is Marinette. Your company would be much appreciated, Damian"

Your bitter heart cold to the touch

Now I'm going to reap what I sow

I'm left seeing red on my own

Sometimes on nights like these Marinette wondered what she did wrong. Because it had to be her of course. Why else would Damian go from her caring, charming, wonderful, Dove to Gotham's very own cold, unfeeling, ruthless, Ice Prince.

"Hi, Damian. You're home early." Marinette tried not to let the hope seep into her voice. She had a feeling she wasn't successful.

Damian barely grunted at her as he continued to their room. "My idiots brothers dragged me into spending some time with them so I'm forced to change into something less formal."

"Oh okay." She knew she did an even worse job of hiding her disappointment. "You know I finished Uncle Jagged's outfit the other day. He loved it."

Damian hummed noncommittally. She knew he wasn't paying attention, he never was but she kept trying.

"You know how he's doing that "World's Greatest" Tour. Celebrating the hero's of the world in their respective cities. Luka's been opening for him. His career has really taken off. Hell I'm sure half the tickets Uncle Jagged sells are people just trying to see Luka. He'll have to tour solo soon."

"I bet." Damian's voice was muffled from being the closet, but she could still hear the disinterest in his voice.

She sighed as she leaned against the doorframe of "their" room. It was only theirs in name the fact that his clothes were there. She spent almost every night there alone. She took a deep breath trying to gather her courage for what she was going to ask. "Well they wanted to thank me for the outfits. Claimed the tour would have been half as successful without them. They invited me to take me out to dinner tonight to catch up, then for me to hang out backstage during their show. They said they missed me." Marinette hoped he still wasn't paying attention, but as soon as he settled his famous glare on her, she knew she wasn't that lucky. She flinched into herself under his gaze.

"Marinette. You know what would happen if you left this apartment. The famous Wayne Heir's sweet vulnerable fiance. The one never seen in the media anymore. You would get off this block before your picture would be on every media outlet in the city. Then you would be the Rogues target for the night. They would go anywhere you would be. Including the concert. Would you really be so selfish to endanger hundreds, possibly thousands of innocent concert goers just to 'hang out' with people you can see any time you please?" The disappointment on his face and the coldness of his delivery had her feeling ashamed. She hung her head low trying to hold back the tears.

"I'm sorry." She knew her voice was barely above whisper, but if she tried to speak any louder she knew she'd open the flood gatesp.

Damian brushed past her. "You should be. I'll be heading to the concert with my brothers. I'll inform Jagged of your apologies for not coming."

"Just telling him I'm sick." She offered weakly still not looking up from the floor.

She could feel his judgeful look on her. "Of course not. He'll insist on coming to check on you then he'll see your lying. I'll tell him you're busy with commissions." He left her standing there as headed to leave again. She heard his phone ring and he answered it harshly. "I'm coming down, Todd!" "Of course not, you imbecile! She's a serious designer who can't be bothered out of her schedule to spend time with my idiotic brothers, especially when she's up to her nose in commissions!" She heard the door shut after that statement. I guess her soon to be brothers in law didn't know the real reason behind her lock down either. She stood there for a few more moments before she broke down into loud heavy sobs. She collapsed to her knees and just cried. Not for the first nor last time in that prison she called an apartment.

Got feeling that I'm going under

But I know I will make it out alive

If quit calling you my lover

And move on

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

I'm shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Needle and the thread

Gotta get you out my head

Her hands were moving furiously as she was trying to rid her mind of her cruel ex.

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

She wanted to forget everything about him.

Needle and the thread

Gotta get you out my head

His smile, his laugh, the loving look in his eyes.

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

His kisses, his hugs, the way he held her like he was afraid of losing her

Needle and the thread

Gotta get you out my head

His scowl, his glare, his need to hide her from the world

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

His distance, his apathy, the way he was happy in any other girl's arms but her's

Needle and the thread

Gotta get you out my head

Get you out of my head.

She wanted to forget loving him and hating him. She wanted her happiness back

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

Shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

And now that I'm without you kisses

I'll be needing stitches

I'll be needing stitches.

As she finished singing she awoke from her haze. She felt the tears on her face and wiped them away before looking to see what she had made. The simple heart from before now had a jagged line down the middle that stopped a quarter of the way to the bottom to represent a break. From the bottom it looked like the heart was dripping. The most noticeable change was the crude yet tasteful stitches that laid over the break in the heart. They weren't neat as if she were suggesting they were professionally done. The way she laid them subconsciously represented as if they were self done by someone trying their best.

While she was studying her impromptu embroidery a voice surprised her. "It looks nice."

She looked up in shock to see a brown haired boy around her age, 21 maybe 22, sitting at the table closest to the stage she was on. He looked as if he had been there for a while.

"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you. I heard you singing so I came to see who it was because you have a beautiful voice, but then I saw you crying and I wanted to make sure you were okay, but you seem really focused and I didn't want to interrupt, but I didn't want to just leave you either, but- I'm sorry I'm rambling. My name is Peter. Are you okay?" The boy, Peter, asked her softly, looking concerned. For Marinette it was enough.

She had sat in the chair next to him and finally let out everything she was holding in. The tears were flowing freely now "I don't know. I'm so mad, so hurt, so confused. Where did it go wrong? One minute I'm getting my business degree at Gotham University, the next I'm in a relationship with Damian Wayne. It was amazing he was so kind and sweet and loving and he made me so happy. Then next thing I know after dating for about a year and half he proposes. I'm on cloud 9 and I say yes and I'm so excited for what's to come, but suddenly everything changes. Next thing I know he's saying I can't leave the apartment because he wants me to be safe from the Rogues and I accepted it. Then he's yelling at me for trying to sneak out and I'm thinking I deserve it. I should have just stayed home and he's already apologizing for yelling. Then suddenly he's gone more and more. He's never home and I'm alone and it hurts. Then suddenly I'm selfish for asking to go out to see my friends because how can I put everyone at risk just to go see some friends who I can see anytime I want. Yet nobody is ever allowed over. But I still believe he's right. How can I be So now I'm alone and miserable and it hurts because he keeps getting further and further from me and I'm starting to suspect what's going on but I'm too scared to ask him because if he confirms it, then everything I believed in is a lie and I couldn't live with that. But I didn't even have to ask because soon someone is sending me a picture and it's the girl who made my school life hell by taking everyone I thought was my friend away from me with a few far fetched lies, and here she is laying naked on my fiance's naked chest as he sleeps. And I know he knows who she is and what she did to me because I told him. Yet he doesn't care because here he is fucking her while I'm at home all the time because he told me to be. So I grabbed my stuff and left everything he ever got me and just left. So here I am miserable staying with my Uncle Tony trying not to think about the asshole while my friends try to help me feel better yet I feel terrible because I loved the jerk and I still kinda do and I still have the engagement ring which I should pawn, but it was Bruce's mom's ring and that would be wrong and Bruce would be devastated. Why do I care so much about him and his family when he couldn't be bothered with me?" She felt better after finally letting it all out. She hadn't cried since she came to Uncle Tony. Not when Adrien arrived with Kagami, Marc, and Nathaniel, not when Luka arrived with Uncle Jagged and not even when Chole and Alix arrived. All her friends and pseudo family were there yet she hadn't cried once, nor had she actually told them the full story. But here this stranger asked if she was okay and she let it flow like Niagara Falls.

If Peter was shocked by her rant he didn't let it show. Instead he placed a hand on her before speaking softly "Because you are an amazing person who is a million times better than him. He is insane to choose anyone over you especially someone so foul as a desperate liar. I just met you, but I can already tell that you are a kind hearted, talented girl and anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives and I can tell by the crowd over there by the door that you have many people standing with you who already figured that out." Marinette looked up at his words to see her friends and pseudo uncles and their respective wives standing in the door.

"Hi guys." As soon as Marinette finished speaking they all rushed towards her. Adrien reached her first pulling her into a tight hug.

"Oh bugaboo, I'm so sorry you had to go through this. Are you okay? Why didn't you tell us, princess?" He buried his face in her neck purring slightly in a way that calmed her.

"I guess I was still processing everything kitty. He really had me thinking he loved me and to find out he didn't was a hard blow." She confessed quietly.

"He'll meet my blade for hurting you, Mari," Kagami seemed to have Chole, Alix and surprisingly, Marc ready to back her.

"No, Gami, I just want to get over him. He's not worth it." Mari remarked sadly before smiling at her friends. "But thank you, all of you, for having my back."

There were various "Of course" and "Always" that were heard among the group before Tony Stark cleared his throat. "Marinette let me properly introduce Peter Parker, my intern. Peter, this is my niece Marinette Dupain-Cheng also known as MDC owner and head designer of Miracle Designs."

Peter looked star struck. "I love your work. You make the coolest clothes on the planet."

Marinette blushed lightly. "Thank you, Peter. Uncle Tony told me much about you and I was always impressed. You're nothing short of a genius." Marinette missed Peter's blush as she started introducing her friends to him, but Tony didn't.

"This is Adrien Agreste, former model and Physics major. This is Kagami Tsurugi, world champion fencer. This is Luka Couffanie, singer songwriter signed under Jagged Stone. They're dating. This is Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Marc Anciel creators of Miraculous Tales comic. They're engaged. This is Chole Bourgeois, the best lawyer in all of France and probably Europe. And this is Alix Kubdel, X Games Winner, and famous archeologists. These two are also engaged. I'm sure you know Jagged Stone and his manager and also his wife, Penny."

"You guys are amazing! None of you look much older than me yet you're already so successful! What is in the water in Paris? Some kind of talent steroids?" Peter was amazed.

"Speaking of talent," Luka turned towards Marinette. "Melody why didn't you tell me you could sing like that?" Soon everyone was agreeing that she was an excellent singer.

Marinette was bright red. "It's no big deal guys. I was just singing to myself, I wasn't expecting an audience."

Jagged took his chance to pull his pseudo niece into a hug. "Nettie, my girl you have got to let me sign you. It would be so rocking to have talent like yours produced under my label!"

"No way Uncle Jagged! I'm not even that good!" Marinette began protesting before Luka put a hand on her shoulder.

"How about this? I need some vocals for a song I wrote and no matter how much I love them, my dear boyfriend and girlfriend can not sing." Adrien and Kagami looked at each other before shrugging. No point denying it. "How about you feature in my new single under an alias and if it's hit you'll give an album a try?"

Marinette looked around at some of the most important people in the world to her before sighing and agreeing.

"Alright. But no promises that this will be hit. I'm really not that good. You guys are just biased."

Alix ruffled Marinette's hair. "Whatever you say, DC. Now let's go play some UMS3!"

As everyone was heading out to find a room large enough for all of them Peter prepared to go back to work on a project until Marinette turned back to him with a huge smile and bright eyes. "Come on Peter! Come play with us."

How could he say no to that? So he came along.

A couple weeks later Luka's single "Partners in Crime" featuring Neon Titanium hit number one on the charts. And the most searched inquiry on Google for 3 days following was "who is Neon Titanium?" Needless to say Marinette was busy for the next couple months. Especially after Luka dropped a music video which she starred in as well wear a full face mask to stay hidden.

#maribat salt #maribat #spideybug #felinette #past Mari x Dami #marivenger #ex daminette #neon titanium #moving on

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marvelousell · 4 years

Text

Solutions

Pairing: Professor!Seb x Student!reader

Summary: After you couldn’t find the book you needed for your assignment your Literature Professor helps you out with it and with something more

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, spanking, unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Posting this again hoping the tags will work now🤡

Masterlist || Add yourself to my tag list

“Oedipus, Oedipus, Oedipus..”

Was the library a mess or they just didn’t have the book at all?

It was the third year of college, the end of the semester, probably everyone grabbed their book to prepare for it sooner and write the review brilliantly so that their last mark can be as high as possible. Studying literature was intriguing, absolutely engrossing. This particular class was very important for you, you made sure to never fail a test or hand your work too late. It was an enthralling class, enhancing your analytical thinking skills and sharing your point of view freely wasn’t the only thing that made it so interesting, it was the professor that made you extremely attentive. Professor Stan. A man in his late thirties, that was like a good glass of wine on a Saturday evening. A charming and prepossessing man that made your breath hitch a little every time he would enter the classroom.

“Stupid book.” You groaned, clearly frustrated by the situation. This never happened before, and you didn’t want it to be the first time now, especially because it was his assignment.

The typical quiet library atmosphere was interrupted by low giggles coming from the desk where the librarian, Mrs. Smith was working. You were lost honestly, help would be nice in this situation.

“You should be a little less strict, they came here last week like a hurricane to grab the books.” Her voice was all sweet and fake? Yes, it was definitely fake since she always talked like she was forced to with the students around. And of course she was talking like that while twirling her wavy hair, everyone here does it when Mr.Stan is chatting with them.

“Come on Lilly, I’m definitely not that hard on them.” He leaned on the desk, giving her a broad pearly white smile, making her giggle even more.

God he made your heart beat wildly, his figure and charming blue eyes were getting more and more hypnotising.

He was definitely not a strict Professor even if he looked sometimes like that. The first day in his class was definitely the most hard one. Having a guy that was so easy on the eye and humorous as well was a big yes for you in life. Even if it was inappropriate, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The small things made you go insane about him, like his bewitching smile that would brighten up the whole room, his eyes that wouldn’t let you concentrate on what he was explaining whenever his gaze would shift on you, and definitely how your name would roll off his tongue every single time during the lesson.

Mr.Stan was everyone’s silly little crush, every student and professor was almost drooling over him and you were one of them.

“Good Morning Professor.” You greeted the man that had his eyes fixed on you and the dress that was breathtaking for him.

“Morning Miss Y/L/N.” Sebastian’s voice was soft, his eyes not leaving your body. He knew how shy you got around him and how you tried to avoid the direct eye contact with him. Your shyness drove him wild, the innocent behaviour was making him crave you more.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you could check if there’s a book that I need? I can’t find it myself unfortunately.” You asked nicely, Mrs.Smith clearly annoyed how her conversation got interrupted by an annoying student.

“Yeah. Which one?” She exhaled, her horrible honeyed voice making you regret coming here.

“Oedipus Rex.”

“No need to check it, the students came here last week and grabbed them all.”

Great, he is thinking already that you’re irresponsible and that your assignment will be a work of improvisation and memory of what he was talking about it.

“Thank you anyways.” You excused yourself, rushing towards the exit.

You could still feel his eyes on you, how he followed your steps and every movement. As much as you tried to shake that feeling off it was impossible.

Sebastian could say the same. He never felt like that, it was highly inappropriate to think about a student of his in that way. But you were the most beautiful woman he ever saw. Your elegance and purity was intoxicating, God knows how many times he needed to suppress those feelings in order to continue his lecture. Every time your sweet scent filled his nostrils he couldn’t help but imagine how happy would he be if he woke up every morning with you by his side. Sebastian could feel that spark, even when you tried to avoid his eyes and finish a conversation with him as soon as possible, the rosy cheeks gave it all away to him. You could definitely feel something, just like he did.

“Miss Y/L/N.” Sebastian immediately said his goodbyes to Lilly after you left, he couldn’t let his chance get away now.

“Professor Stan?” You were surprised, cheeks burning from the feeling of his body so close to yours. Is he going to let you know how you won’t be able to pass his class without this assignment?

“Last minute assignment?” He laughed, making you even more nervous. You eschewed alone conversations with him, clearly because he made you stutter almost every time and looking him in the eyes made your legs wobbly from the thoughts that would mess with your head.

“N-No, I always do my work on time but it looks like everyone is panicking because it’s the end of the semester and they want to get a better grade.” You half-smiled, giving him a short glance. He grinned, trying to get you relaxed in his company.

“All good Miss, just joking a little. I actually have a solution for your problem.” Sebastian was nervous now, blood pumping in his system eagerly waiting for you to look at him.

“You do?” His eyes were glued to yours, he smiled at your enthusiastic response. Your eyes were calming, he could stare at them for days enjoying the warm feeling.

“I actually have one book at home, a copy I would gladly borrow to you. You definitely need it more now.”

“Oh I, thank you? If it’s not a problem for you I would borrow it. I can come to your office tomorrow to pick it up.”

“I don’t have any lesson tomorrow, you can come to my place today to get it.” Sebastian was trying not sound creepy, he wanted you to say yes, he wanted to get to know you better.

You weren’t sure if you heard that right or not, but the thoughts of you and him in his apartment made you feel dizzy instantly.

“I-I sure? Only if I won’t be a bother. It’s Friday I don’t want to disturb you.”

“Nonsense, here’s my address. Come whenever you want after college finishes.” He nodded, feeling like a teenager again. The tingle in his gut was strong, he was smitten and when you flashed him a bright and wide smile it was enough for him to burst. You were so powerful, your presence and bashfulness could make him feel so much things at the same time. Sebastian fell hard for it, he loved how you were a tender-hearted person always helping students around in his lecture, he admired how quiet you were around him but you never had a problem to speak in his class. Your arguments were phenomenal, exceptional and every time you negated his opinion, Sebastian would fell for you even more.

“Thank you Professor Stan.” Your voice was shaky, it was hard to maintain the eye contact even if his eyes were beginning for yours to acknowledge them at least once.

Sebastian’s nerves were running wild. You should be here any time, and he was losing his mind. He was imagining how will you look outside class, how your hair will be done and how will your time go together. The only thing he wanted was you to stay. With him.

It wasn’t just the innocent thoughts, the ones of you with your legs wide open for him were definitely stronger. You were a work of art, he lost count of how many nights he lost sleep because of his imagination. Sebastian couldn’t help but think about your soft whimpers and moans begging for him, begging him to make you feel good. The blood in his system rushed down, the space in his boxers became so small just from the thought of you.

It was the bell that woke him up from his trance. You were here.

“Just a second!” He groaned, the now rock hard shaft in his pants made it difficult to think clearly, it ached for some attention.

“Good evening, Professor.”

That sweet, innocent voice. You’re making it so hard sweetheart.

“Evening, come inside please.” His eyes caught yours for a second before you shifted them to the enormous house he was living in.

Sebastian’s eyes popped wide, the long dress from today was replaced with a much shorter one. Your legs were looking great, and the bare back stopped his breathing instantly. You looked divine, but Sebastian couldn’t stop himself from thinking what’s underneath. He was sure you tasted so sweet, much sweeter than your scent.

“Oedipus by Sophocles right? Do you know that I absolutely hated this book in college and now I’m torturing you with it.” He started a small conversation with a joke, his hot breath tickling your neck.

Your were so tense, you couldn’t do anything back in your apartment with him on your mind. He was a constant distraction, even at night. Many nights were spent thinking about him while you pleasured yourself, his voice echoing in your ears.

“The plot is a bit twisted sure, but what I heard from you Professor I kind of got interested in the story behind everything.” You tried to chat as well, stop the shy you that came out every time you were around him. However he made it so difficult.

He was dressed in black pants, his usual baby blue shirt replaced with a white one.

“Found it.” He spoke, showing you the book that was resting in his palms.

You weren’t focusing on it, the only thing on your mind was his messy hair and large hands that would cup your ass perfectly. He was grinning from ear to ear as he handed you the book you needed. The once avoid the eyes immediately situation was now long gone, your eyes were resting on his face. Sebastian noticed you staring, he loved to feel them exploring his body.

“Here you go.” You could swear that he was near that large shelf a second ago, not near your left side. He focused on your red lips that were slightly parted, imagining how lovely they would look around his throbbing shaft. Sebastian’s mind was going to explode like a ticking bomb if he doesn’t kiss you soon. You were irresistible in every way possible.

“Thank you Professor, you’re a life saviour for me.” Your chin trembled as his arm was placed on your shoulder, shivers of pleasure going up and down your spine.

“Please Y/N, it’s Sebastian. We’re not in class now.” He wasn’t a fan of formalities, especially with you in this moment. Professor or sir could go only in bed.

“Thank you Sebastian really, I-I should probably go now I don’t want to ruin your evening. Thank you once again.” You honestly didn’t want to leave, this was everything you ever wanted. Him and you, all alone and close to each other.

“Don’t be silly please. I don’t have plans, except marking your last week tests, but yeah nothing special.”

You tried to speak once again but he was definitely faster, he couldn’t let you go.

“Please stay, take a seat. I invited you to my house, not offering you a drink would be rude from me.” Sebastian’s sentences were a mess, you laughed how a different person he was outside work.

“I guess it would.” If he could push the professional relationship aside so could you right?

“What would you like?” Sebastian was over the moon, you relaxing on his couch was a sight he always wanted to see. You both shared a few looks, grinning widely.

“Surprise me.”

He wasn’t used to these kind of answers, you were much more open after he implied that there was no need for Mr. and Miss when you were alone.

“My favourite.” His figure plopped down next to you, both of you sipping on the bitter and strong beverage.

“You have a great taste.” You were never like this, this wasn’t you. The shy, quiet Y/N left, all because the desire was too strong.

Did he want the same as you? What if you got the wrong message?

“No need for the shyness, look at me.” He wanted to look at your eyes, his index finger hooked underneath your chin guiding your face up.

The fear of being rejected or doing something you didn’t want to was stopping him from so many things, he wanted to test the waters first but you were making him go nuts. You didn’t flinch at his touch, it was a soft gentle touch that you wanted to feel on your whole body.

“There they are.” If he would describe the feelings you gave him every time you were close, professional or not he could go on and on.

“You know, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you.” You breathed out a chuckle, finishing your drink.

“You were the first one that caught my attention, you were always so quiet around me but you never had a problem to say what you had on your mind in my lectures even if it was different from what I thought it was right.” Your heart leaped like a wild stag in your throat. Was he really into you?

“Your pure heart and wild nature that was hidden made me go absolutely crazy.” Your lips looked so kissable, he wanted to smash his against yours so badly.

“Thank you, you’re a great Professor.” It sounded so stupid, but it was the best that could come out of your mouth.

“And you look great Y/N.” That was it, Sebastian couldn’t hold it anymore. The space between you was so small, his hand rested on the nape of your neck while you both began breathing rapidly.

“W-We shouldn’t do this.” You wanted it. You needed it. However you were still worried what will happen after it.

“Are going to tell me that you don’t feel this like I do? Tell me to stop Miss Y/L/N if you don’t want this.” Sebastian was teasing, his lips on yours but there wasn’t any movement at all.

Wasn’t this what you wanted the last couple of years? Why were you hesitating now? This will be just between you.

“Fuck it.” You couldn’t hold back, your hand flew over his shoulders lips moving against his hotly.

Sebastian was smiling into the kisses, the fact that you couldn’t resist him was a dream come true. He was right, your wild nature was just hidden behind that angel face. Your lips burned on his skin, his imaginations came true and now he will never get enough of you. His hands were placed on your sides, giving them a slight squeeze encouraging you to do more.

“Miss Y/L/N you are a fucking dream come true.” He broke the kiss focusing on your neck. You granted him more space as you leaned your head on the side. You sucked in a breath as his swollen lips marked you, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin.

Sebastian was lost, your heat on his crotch and your low grunts are going to be the death of him.

“Eager? Are you going to be polite and ask what you crave doll?” His fingers pushed the silky material of your dress down, your breasts and perky nipples on display just for him.

“Gorgeous.” The pulsing in his pants began to hurt, he wanted to push his girth inside your little pussy now. You were still not answering, moaning from the pleasure he was giving you. Sebastian wanted to tease the shit out of you, but he also wanted to see you fall apart with him inside of you.

“I’m waiting Miss, are you going to answer me?” Without a warning he wrapped his mouth around one nipple, making you tremble as the other was between his fingers.

“Oh fuck, please make me feel good Professor.” Your panties were damp, probably leaving a wet spot on his pants.

“Good doll.”

“Are you going to let me see how much you want me?” You nodded, heart thudding in your chest as he pushed the thin material to the side sliding his fingers up and down your folds.

“My God, you are dripping.” The husky voice mixed with his leisure movements made you groan loudly. He brought his fingers into his mouth, tasting your arousal. It was a sight to remember, his eyes staring deeply at yours while sucking the fingers clean.

“Just like I thought. So sweet doll.” The talking made you clench around nothing, making you grind against him, too shy to ask him to start.

“Don’t be shy, tell your Professor what you desire.”

You were lost for words, rubbing your clit against the rough material and his shaft was the only thing you could focus on. Even if it was a sight Sebastian wanted to see some other time, he needed to show you who was in charge tonight.

“So naughty, do I need to teach you how to behave? Always so nice and shy in my class and now you’re misbehaving, I don’t like that.” His palm landed across your ass, gripping it after smacking the soft flesh. The sudden sting stopped your actions, your hands resting on his chest while your ass was in the air.

“Do you need more or are you going to answer me doll?”

You couldn’t speak, you shook your head so he could know that you’re going to answer him soon. But he wanted to do it more even if he understood your message.

“Words.” The flat was filled with smacking sounds and your yelps from the pleasure he was giving you.

“P-Please, want to feel you inside me, want to feel you here. All of you.” Your hand pushed his palm flat against your stomach and it was enough for Sebastian to unleash the beast inside of him.

“I will make you feel so good sweetheart, so good that you will come back for more.”

He stood up, you in his arms while he rushed to the bedroom. Everything was better than the images he had in his head for so long. You were on his bed, knees bent and your breasts in your hands. If you continued like that he won’t even start.

“Want to undress you.”

Fuck.

The white shirt was already off, your fingers going slowly down his torso making him flinch. While you worked on the belt, your lips ghosted over his stomach, peppering soft kisses. His muscles contracted after every contact, he wanted to fuck your pretty little pussy for the whole night.

“I want to feel your mouth around me doll, I really do but I need to be inside you more. Next time I promise.” Sebastian spoke, moving his thumb across your lips.

You were all but shy now, your batted your eyelashes looking at him, begging him to take you how he wanted to.

“Fuck, so fucking wet.” He cooed, sliding his tip slowly from your clit to your entrance enjoying the slick sounds that you both made together.

“Please Sebastian, need you.” You squeezed his hands that was pinning you down to the bed. Your sweet pleads were burning in his ears, he wanted to hear you plead every day from now on. You were his now. Only his.

“Shit doll. Shit.” He pushed inside you so easily, staying like that for a second to feel your warm walls around his shaft.

“Shit, move. Need you to move.”

A deep growl rumbles in his chest as he began thrusting into you, he spread your legs as much as possible, pushing them down to your chest so he could go deeper. Sebastian wanted to feel every inch of you tonight.

“You look so hot like this, you take me so well.” The dirty talk continued, making you clench around him and Sebastian definitely noticed it.

“You love it don’t you? Love it when I say how good you are for me? How could I not you’re my favourite doll. No one could take me like you, no one could make me this hard.” He let go of your legs, moving his hands to your hips gripping them before he slammed into you mercilessly. His thick fingers drew circles around your swollen clit in a fast pace. Your back was arched, tears from pleasure were forming in your eyes. You were so close. The thrusts were harsh but still gentle, he wanted you to enjoy this moment you shared.

“My lovely girl, shall I let you cum? You’re squeezing me like crazy here. Were you a good little doll to me, hm?” Your walls were tightening around his dick, a breath stuck in your throat.

“Please Professor, I w-was so good. Please let me cum, I-I can’t. I’m good.” You stuttered, biting your lip from the sensation.

“Go on beautiful, let me see you cum. Show me that you’re only mine.” You moaned loudly, shrieking as the orgasm washed over you, your tight walls clamping around his cock as he pushed faster into you.

Sebastian could only curse, looking at your mouth that was wide open as the euphoria washed over you. He was close as well, his movements became sloppier, and the squeeze around his arm that encouraged him to cum was bringing him to the edge.

“Come on Seb, let go. Want you to fill me up like you promised.” Your voice was making it difficult to continue, he pressed his lips to yours kissing you gently as he coated your walls with his hot cum.

“Fuck.” He kissed you once again, staying inside of you for a moment ,his member still pulsating against your walls.

You purred against his lips, wrapping your arms and legs around him showing him how much you enjoyed this with him.

“Fuck doll, I’ve been waiting for this since day one.” You were both panting, laughing as he pressed short kisses on your neck and collarbone.

“Me too.” You were back to the shy Y/N once again, hiding your face in his neck.

“Back to the old Y/N. Fucking adore you.” Sebastian rolled you both over, bringing you into his arms. You were sweaty, out of breath and your mixed fluids were dripping out of you, but you still couldn’t get enough of each other.

“I can always borrow you books if you will repay me like this doll.” He joked, earning a playful slap from you.

“Maybe we can arrange something.” You whispered, his grin growing wider as his fingers caressed you naked body. Sebastian was glowing, wanting to spend the rest of the night with you in his arms.

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radiantroope · 4 years

Text

Lonely Heart || Rafe Cameron

Chapter One – Falling Apart

chapter summary: Rafe’s actions when you move to California prove distance does not make the heart grow fonder. You get a phone call that puts your whole life on pause.

warnings: flashbacks are in italics, none

word count: 2k+

author’s note: i kinda hate this but i’m gonna post it anyway. this fic is definitely a slow burn. once again, shout out to @royalmerchant & @diverdcwn for letting me send you the first half of this and convincing it wasn’t complete shit. feedback means everything to me, please let me know what you think so far!!♥️

read the introduction here!

series playlist | series masterlist | main masterlist

You kept your promise and called Rafe as much as you could — FaceTiming every Saturday for a few hours in the evening. He helped you decorate your on campus apartment as much as he could through the tiny phone screen. You’d eat dinner together and talk about how your week had been. There was a three hour time difference though, so either you were eating very early or Rafe was eating fairly late. Though, you didn’t mind making that sacrifice if it meant you got to talk to him and see his face.

It was all going good for a few months, the semester started off slow for you and your professors seemed nice enough. Thanksgiving rolled around before you knew it and your parents had flown out to visit. They gushed over your quaint little apartment and awed at the large campus that you took them for a stroll around. The three of you FaceTimed the Cameron’s on the morning of Thanksgiving itself and talked to them for a while as Rose frantically ran about the kitchen, insisting that she wanted to help make the feast that year instead of hiring chefs to do it for them.

It was a few days after that, just after your parents flew home, that things changed. Rafe declined more of your calls than he answered. He started missing your Saturday FaceTime dates, stating his workload was too much and he had to miss it. You believed him, of course. You were two Freshmen in college and it was inevitable that the schoolwork was bound to weigh on you eventually.

Sparse phone calls turned into even sparser texts. It was embarrassing, really. If anyone could see how many texts you’d sent to get a three word response a few days later they’d probably laugh in your face. Just before the winter trip to Colorado, he stopped replying all together. He’d either turned his read receipts off or he was ignoring your texts all together because the word ‘Delivered’ managed to slap you in the face everyday.

Your Uber pulled up to the luxurious cabin your family shared with the Cameron’s and a wave of nausea flooded through you. You didn’t know if you were ready to face your best friend and find out what you’d done for him to deliberately ignore you. As you walked through the front door, immediately greeted by a squealing Wheezie, you quickly noticed the absence of the brunette boy amongst your families in the kitchen and living room.

Sarah dragged you to the room she and Wheezie were sharing after you greeted her father and Rose. She barely gave you time to drop your bags by your own room. The teenager immediately jumped into all the melodrama happening in her life. You weren’t shocked to find out she was dating Topper Thornton. You knew the boy had his eye on her for a while and were glad to know he’d taken your advice of asking her out before you left.

“Where’s Rafe?” you questioned sometime later, after dinner with Sarah nestled beside you in your bed.

“He took some job with one of dad’s partners. Something about furthering his resume,” Sarah said, shrugging. To her, it was no big deal that her brother wasn’t there, oblivious to his recent absence in your life.

“Right,” you responded solemnly.

It was hard to hide your obvious disappointment that Rafe had missed the trip. In the thirteen years you’d known him, he’d never missed this trip. He was always so eager to get away from the Outer Banks and it’s muggy weather to spend Christmas surrounded by snow. He snowboarded almost everyday, dragging you up to the mountains with him. He looked like a pro, flying down the slopes with precision and grace. Inevitably he’d have to make his way back up to help you down, but that was part of the fun, laughing as you lost your balance and tumbled into the snow more than once. You’d grab a hot chocolate from the mountain resort after, out of breath and full of giggles.

Christmas morning was especially dreary for you. Your mother took notice of your odd silence over breakfast and placed a comforting hand over yours as you cradled a mug of coffee. You forced a smile, standing to follow everyone into the living room to open gifts. The cabin felt quiet — void of Wheezie’s screaming laughter and Rafe’s thundering footsteps as he chased her around with a flimsy Santa hat atop his messy head of hair. You swallowed the lump in your throat as Ward took over handing out the gifts, a job usually reserved for his son.

“Have you talked to him?”

You sighed through the phone at Janelle’s question. The last time you attempted to reach Rafe was New Year’s Eve. Just as the clock struck midnight, you sent him a standard ‘Happy New Year’ text. Your heart leapt to your throat when a moment later, the three text bubbles popping up. They sat there for a moment, taunting you, before disappearing. You awaited a response, only for one to never come.

By the time the spring break trip to the Bahamas rolled around, you were infuriated. You couldn’t wait to get down there and give Rafe a piece of your mind. Thirteen years of friendship and he couldn’t even text you back. He dropped you like you were last year’s Gucci — like you were nothing to him.

Janelle was the only person who knew Rafe meant more to you than just a best friend. When you were twelve, you told her how it was just a silly crush and you only thought he was cute. When you were fourteen, you admitted he gave you butterflies and you couldn’t get him out of your head. When you were sixteen, you bawled to her when he got his first real girlfriend, confessing you were hopelessly in love with the boy who would never feel the same way. She never told a soul, letting you spill your heart out to her whenever you needed to.

“No, and he’s made it very clear he wants nothing to do with me.”

As the plane landed in the Bahamas on the private airstrip, you breathed a sigh of relief. You couldn’t wait to lay out in the sun by the water and let all your worries wash away. Your grades had slipped a bit after winter break, your mind consumed with anything but school. With a lot of extra work, you managed to get yourself back on track — also with a slight threat from your mother of lowering your monthly direct deposit from their bank account.

You saw Ward and your father waiting by the typical black Escalade they used to get around, the driver waiting by the backdoor to take your luggage. Both men embraced you as you stepped off the aircraft and climbed into the running car. Nervousness bubbled in your veins, causing you to bounce your knee beside your father as you began your journey to the beach home Ward owned.

“No Rafe this year, huh Ward?” your father broke the silence with his question, sparring you a glance from the corner of his eye.

“No,” Ward sighed, “He decided to take his own trip to Hawaii with some friends.”

A hurt expression contorted on your face that you quickly masked with a small smile. The two of you had always talked about going to Hawaii one day. He was living out those dreams without you now. Your tone was playful, yet you were anything but, “He’s a busy boy now-a-days, isn’t he?”

Ward laughed and simply nodded in response. Your father gave you a knowing look and a reassuring smile. Though it did nothing to ease the ache in your chest. You turned towards the window and watched the palm trees fly by the closer you got to the beachfront mansion. Your hair fell in your face, effectively masking the salty tears slowly rolling down your cheeks.

You laid on the beach, sunglasses covering slightly puffy and red rimmed eyes. You watched surfers ride the waves and recalled a time where you’d go out and join them. You’d rent a surfboard for the week, forcing Rafe to do the same and try your best to teach him how to surf. You weren’t sure if he was just too big to balance properly or he didn’t care to try, but he still entertained you. He was always in awe with how gracefully you rode the waves, despite him fully believing it was a Pogue sport. You were a Kook and he never quite understood why you loved it so much, but you were good and there was no denying it. He’d sit atop his own board and just watch you with a ghost of a smile, cheering when you pulled off a trick you’d been working on.

The distant memory of Rafe’s laughter echoed in your head as Sarah plopped down beside you and pulled you out of your thoughts. Your parents were all going out that night and she insisted on a girls night with Wheezie involving some expensive wine she’d snuck in her bag from Rose’s collection. The two of you obviously didn’t let the youngest girl in on the alcohol, but she didn’t seem to mind much, just enjoying spending quality time with the two older girls.

You tried your hardest to paint on a smile and indulge the girls the best you could in their conversations and game of Truth. Though your mind kept drifting, eyes burning with tears that you felt would never stop falling. All you could think about was how you and Rafe used to do this — sneak a bottle of his father’s liquor and hide out on the balcony into the late hours of the morning. You’d talk for hours about your lives and the future — a future you never pictured he wouldn’t be a part of.

It had been five years since then. You were almost twenty four now and hadn’t seen your best friend in five years. You stopped going on the family vacations when you realized it was Rafe’s way to keep from seeing you. You’d visit home for a week or two in the Summer, instead of spending the whole three months there like you intended. If your parents weren’t intent on living out the rest of their lives in Kildare, you probably would have never gone back. But they’d done too much for you — gave you everything you had — so you went back for them. Never did you see Rafe, and you couldn’t say you were upset about it. Seeing him would put you back at square one.

You graduated with your Bachelor’s degree and were planning to go for your doctorate in Psychology. Classes started the following week and it seemed like everything was finally falling into place. You were setting yourself up for life. Though, it still felt like something was off — like there was a part of you missing.

You and Janelle still spoke frequently. She always made a point to bring up Rafe, even when you didn’t ask. How he’d been scoring all these great jobs and working on big projects. How he was the happiest she’d ever seen him. Usually you’d mutter a small ‘that’s nice’ in response and change the subject. What made her think you wanted to hear about someone you used to love? Someone who used to be your other half? Why was she so adamant about rubbing it in your face that they were still so close?

You jumped as your ringtone set for your father blasted through the living room. You rushed from the stove where you’d been preparing dinner and picked the device up off the couch. Your voice was chipper as you answered his call, “Hi, daddy!”

“Hi, pumpkin,” your father sounded exhausted, a slight strain to his tone. Before you could question him he was continuing, “There’s.. There’s something you need to know.”

You turned off the stove immediately, heart sinking into your stomach. You remained silent and leaned against the counter to support your shaking frame. With a few words, you felt everything come crumbling down around you.

“It’s your mother, Y/N. You need to come home.”

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houseof-harry · 4 years

Note

I’m so h word but like gray being your neighbor and y’all just fuck when both your families are out of the house 🥴

okay listen, as a college student who still lives with her parents, this is a major topic of interest. we have what we call our home hoes, and gray is definitely yours.

You weren’t that close in high school, but you ran in similar friend groups. Every so often you’d be at a hang out together, nothing crazy. But it all begins one NYE, when all your friends have been at college for a semester and have gone a bit crazier than the occasional svedka shot you were all once familiar with.

Ever since that first night you slept together, you were each other’s home hoes. Now, this is technically not how home hoes work because there is supposed to be a selection to work with, but you and Gray honestly didn’t have any interest in fucking anyone. Not when you lived across the street from one another.

And it was getting easier now that your parents had started to trust you more. They were taking more weekend vacations to the mountains, or the beach, or wherever the fuck they’d go. They knew you wouldn’t be throwing any crazy parties and your siblings all had their own lives, too.

That’s why you and Gray started seeing each other more and more whenever you were home. It was easy logistically, and he met all of your criteria: he respected you, he was hot as fuck, and he could make you cum. Hard.

Which is what got you fucking antsy right now. He said he’d be over in five fifteen minutes ago. You were literally pacing your kitchen, watching his house from the window. You could see lights on, but no Grayson walking over here.

A whole twenty minutes later is when you finally see his shadow crossing his driveway, running across the street and up to your door. He’s about to knock when you swing the door open, your brow raised.

“Sorry, Mom asked what you needed so late. And then she got distracted and was telling me about how I need to do a bunch of shit tomorrow.” He steps right past you, taking his shoes off as you watch.

“You told your mom you were coming here?”

“Yeah, I mean she saw me trying to walk out the door at 11:30 at night.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Thought we weren’t telling our parents about anything.” You cross your arms, watching him slide his jacket off.

“She thinks I’m here because your fucking sink is flooding, I don’t think she’ll ask any questions other than about your plumbing.”

You roll your eyes but feel your shoulders relax, knowing he gave her an excuse that could take some time.

“Now are you gonna let me inspect your plumbing? Or...” He’s got a shit eating grin on his face as he approaches you and finally takes in your attire for the first time. A tight tank top with (obviously) no bra, and booty shorts that he can also almost positively say are directly against your skin with nothing in between.

You scoff, your hands resting on his shoulders as he starts to guide you back towards your bedroom. “My plumbing? You really are starting to sound like a fucking 40 year old dad.”

“Wow, someones got a fucking attitude tonight. Guess I’m gonna have to fix that along with the sink.” He does his best to keep a straight face, but fails. He never fails to crack himself up, even if no one else is laughing.

You do your best to keep your own neutral look, your lips barely curling up for a second before you sit on your bed, looking up at him.

“What, guys at school not doing it for you know? Have I ruined it?” You can tell he’s trying to tease you, but he also wants a bit of an ego boost. Unfortunately, he knows he’s the best you’ve had before because you let it slip one time after he’d fucked you at the lake nearby. He never let you live it down.

And it’s kind of true, he has ruined it. You’ve slept with a handful of guys since you started fucking Grayson, and none of them have lived up to the way he can do it. Hell, none of them could even make you finish.

“Are you gonna fuck me or are you going to fix the fucking sink?”

You couldn’t see his reaction to your words because he was slipping his shirt over his head, but you knew he probably rolled his eyes.

“You really are a brat sometimes, anyone ever told you that?”

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond, however, because he's got a hand on your throat as he kisses you, pushing you back against the bed while doing so.

You moan into his mouth as soon as you feel his tongue against your, relishing in the way he tasted, the way he felt. Sometimes it felt like he could knock the wind out of you when he kissed you if he really wanted to.

All to soon his lips were leaving yours to drag along your jawline and down to your neck. There, he was able to begin sucking on the skin, his teeth grazing over you every so often. His hips were pressed hard against yours, your legs still hanging off the edge of the bed as he stood between them. His knees rested on the mattress right below your center, and he used the leverage he had on you push your body harder into the bed by your throat when you let out a moan.

“Who’s home?”

“No one, they’re all out with friends,” you assure him in reference to your siblings. Although it was never ideal to fuck him while they were there, sometimes you really couldn’t resist. Was better than with your parents home.

He lets out a grunt of approval, licking over what you assumed was a blossoming red spot on your neck before lifting his head to look at you.

“Gonna fuck the attitude outa you, then.”

The conviction in his voice made you realize how serious he was, and it went straight to your core.

“Bet you’re dying for it, too,” he chuckles, and before you know what's happening he’s letting go of your throat to take your shirt off.

You decide not to respond, wanting him to find out for himself when he gets your completely naked. You were never one to spoil a surprise.

He takes a moment to look over your chest, appreciating the swell of your breasts and the way they moved as you took in every breath. He’s sworn you have the best tits in the world, and although you don’t agree, you appreciate the sentiment. In moments like these, you really felt like he believed it.

He didn’t actually do anything with them, though, because he couldn’t wait to get in your pants. Hell, you’d both been teasing each other for an hour before he agreed to come over and fuck you, and you were both getting desperate at this point. So he made quick work of your bottoms and found his earlier assumption to be true, and thank god. He didn’t know what he would have done if there was going to be another barrier between him and your pussy.

He groans as he stands fully in front of you, grabbing your knees to lift them, your feet resting on the edge of your bed and your legs spread wide.

“Knew you were dying for my cock.” His lip is between his teeth as he eyes your dripping cunt that’s on full display for him.

“You caused the problem, now you have to fix it,” you whine, your patience wearing thin. After all, he was the one who fucking texted you when he saw your parents leave earlier in the day. And now he wanted to play games?

“Oh, babe, this is not a problem.” He drops his pants to the ground, running his hands down your thighs once he’s completely naked between your legs again.

“Come on Gray.” You know you sound desperate, and you hate it, but you can’t stand the ache between your legs. He’d been working you up too long, then making you wait almost a half hour for it. You question if his mom had ever even stopped him, or if he was just trying to get to you.

“You’re lucky I like when you beg, or else I’d be much fucking meaner.” He leans over you again and you can feel the skin of his thighs on your ass. You use the leverage of his legs there to lift your hips up, a pout on your lips.

He merely rolls his eyes, one hand resting by your head while the other came around your throat again. “Fucking brat.” You just smile at him because now you can finally feel his dick against you and it made your whole body tingle with excitement. “Well put my dick in if you’re so needy for it.”

You happily oblige, bringing a hand down to grab the base before pumping him a few times. His eyes fall closed at the feeling and you know if you keep doing this he’ll get more annoyed and tease you, so you decide to do as he says and guide his red, throbbing tip to your entrance. He was just as ready for this as you were.

Without warning, he slides completely into you until you could feel the hair above his cock against your clit. Your eyes roll back at the overwhelming pleasure of finally feeling full from him as his hand tightens on the side of your neck.

“Missed this pussy, fuck,” he admits.

“Missed your dick,” you huff.

“Can feel that,” he whimpers as you clench around him purposefully, willing him to move.

It works because he’s moving in and out fo you quickly and suddenly, shaking your whole bed with the force of his thrusts. You moan out loudly, pleasure shooting through your body from your center as he grunts above you.

Your breathing was harsh as your brain fogged up, every intake of air slightly restricted due to his hand. The blood that was trying to rush to your head from how good you felt was slowed by his grip and it was making you feel like you were on cloud nine.

“Grayson,” you moan, unable to hold back the filthy noises bubbling up from your throat. All you could hear was your own breathing, Grayson’s grunts, and the sound of your wetness from every thrust in and out of you.

“Can’t believe you give me attitude when I fuck you this good.”

You want to retaliate, but can’t find it within you as he changes the angle of his hips to grind into your better. He quickly is rubbing your walls in a way that makes your toes curl, your chest flushing red from how powerful the feeling is.

“That it? That the spot, babe?” His tone is cocky, and as much as you’d like to me annoyed by it, it’s so hot when he’s confident like that.

You nod the best you can with his fingers just under your chin, your eyes opening when he gives you a tight squeeze. He raising his brow, waiting to hear a verbal response.

“Yes oh my god, right there.” Your voice is hoarse as your mouth falls open, your hands going to his middle back to try and ground yourself a bit.

“Gonna let me see you cum?” He already knows the answer to his questions, but he likes to hear you say it. He brings his free hand to your clit, rubbing quick circles there.

“Yes holy shit,” you whine, your hips lifting to meet his thrusts as he continues to thrust, his hips stuttering at your new movement. He was close, too, you could tell.

He brings his face closer to yours, his fingers moving from under your jaw to hold your cheeks, keeping your mouth wide open. You watch him pucker his lips, his brow raising as if he’s daring you to stop him.

You stick your tongue out instead, and he groans. Soon enough he’s gathering his spit at the front of his mouth, letting it fall into you waiting one. As soon as you feel it touch your tongue you moan and you think it’s borderline pornographic.

You bring your tongue back into your mouth and he moves his hand back to your throat so you can close your mouth and swallow. He feels your throat constrict under his touch and can’t help the profanities that fall from his lips.

“Gonna cum Gray, please let me cum,” you beg, your orgasm fast approaching from all the ways he’s managed to make you feel good tonight.

“Yes baby, give it to me.”

That’s all you needed to hear, your orgasm ripping through you as you arch your back into him. Your thighs cramp from how tense your body is, but you can barely pay attention to it because this is one of the best orgasms he’s ever given you. You clench around his cock as you slowly start to come down, your breathing heavy as your thoughts are flooded with pleasure and bliss.

You hear him curse above you and much to your dissatisfaction, he pulls out of you, pumping his dick until his hot cum shoots across your abdomen. He stands as he finishes cumming, one hand resting on your knee as the other still holds the base of his cock.

“Glad I could help with the leaky faucet.”

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan concept #grayson dolan blurb #dolan twins #dolan twins smut #dolan twins concept #dolan twins blurb

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cockasinthebird · 4 years

Note

Number 11 please!

Hello hello hello!! ✨

11. “If this is a booty call then yes.”

I went with a Modern Day College AU for the sake of texting and, well, booty calls, I hope that’s to your liking!!! Thank you so much for sending one in, I’ve gotten so many and each one of you all hold a special place in my heart! 🤗💕

Just above 3k words! Enjoy~

Fuck fuck fuck.

He groans in exasperation and throws his head back onto the pillow, dark hair spreading, clean and still a slight bit damp from the shower. Every night, to wind down from another stressful day of studying and classes, he goes through an intricate ritual to unwind and calm down, spending close to two hours in the communal bathroom on this floor, using a dozen different skin care products and hair masks. It makes him feel better about himself, makes him feel pretty despite only being able to sleep for about four hours every night.

But sometimes it isn’t quite enough to make him relax.

Stress, anxiety, parental pressure, all of it is keeping him awake and it’s definitely going to have him grow gray hair and wrinkles all too early. Not that he wouldn’t absolutely rock the shit out of silver hair, but he likes his brown hair, thick and deep in its color, although Billy has been talking about how good highlights would look.

Hmmm Billy

Billy Billy Billy

Now there’s someone that doesn’t cause him any grief, if you look past the few fist fights they’ve been in in the past, at the start of the semester, and the occasional teasing.

Steve thinks some more about Billy, the gorgeous, handsome lit major, moved here from California, skin kissed and beloved by the sun, body hard and firm with sculpted biceps and rippling abs.

He chews a bit on his lower lip as he looks to his phone, peeking out from underneath his pillow, daring him to just text him. Billy’s only two floors up. And Steve’s been spending the last half hour fingering himself and jerking off, craving that sweet, delicious relief, but all he’s gotten so far is a half chub and exhausted fingers.

The more he thinks about it, the better of an idea it seems, so he wipes his fingers clean of lube and grabs his phone.

Bambi: U up 💕

Despite it being 1am, the response is near immediate.

👑💘🌹: If this is a booty call then yes

👑💘🌹: 🍆👌💦

And Steve feels heat rush to his gut immediately, proving way more effective than his own touch - way to be biased, body.

Bambi: Tommy’s spending the night w/ Carol

👑💘🌹: 👍👍👍

He smiles wide with a clear blush to his cheeks and shies away, covering his face with a hand. So maybe he’s got a crush, but who cares! He can handle it, it’s fine, Billy’s not the “relationship type,” as he explained before their first time together, and it is fine.

Quickly he throws the phone back onto the mattress, jumps up and starts shoving dirty laundry under his bed, papers and books get crammed into the drawers of his desk, and he just barely manages to check his hair in a mirror before there’s a gentle knocking.

Billy must have hurried down here, and just so, Steve rushes to open the door to his dorm room.

“Did anyone see you?” he quietly asks Billy through the slightly ajar opening.

“If they did, I doubt they’d tell anyone; wouldn’t wanna get caught sneaking around past midnight.”

And Billy doesn’t wait for Steve to invite him in before pushing through. He looks around the dimly lit room, taking in all the barrenness of dorm life - it being nothing like they show in the movies or on instagram.

“Looks the same as last; you ever gonna put up poste-” he goes mum as he turns to Steve, now realising that he’s naked and hard.

The devil is in his grin, and it makes Steve’s soul ache, cock twitch, as he looks back with heavy eyes, dark with lust, grabbing Billy by the collar of his tee to pull him into a deep and desirous kiss, tongues out to taste, hands slipping down his pale back to squeeze his exposed ass, eliciting an erotic, “A-ahh.”

“You’re so eager, huh pretty boy?” Billy drawls all sensuous as he gropes Steve, bringing their hips flush together, fingers inching between cheeks, closer and closer and-

He leans away, staring at Steve with his mouth slightly open, watching him as he presses one finger all the way in.

“Fuck,” Steve gasps loudly.

Billy’s slack jaw tenses to a grin, and he chuckles as he licks across his teeth. He doesn’t pause, keeps pumping his finger in and out, and Steve can feel how Billy’s cock grows hard against his own leaking prick, caught between them.

“Hmmm been thinking ‘bout me, babe?” Billy hums in the most mischievous way, drives the finger as deep as he can go and wiggles it around.

Steve squirms, rutting his hips against Billy, moaning all too loud with just one finger and some friction against his impatient dick. He tries to kiss Billy, have his lips muffle him, keep him quiet, but the blonde just dodges out of the way with a shitty smile.

But when Billy presses a second, thick, rough finger in, it becomes impossible to not pant and cry like he always does, making him weak in the knees, like pudding in Billy’s hands.

“I love how easy it is with you,” Billy growls and moves down Steve’s neck, sucking and biting and licking, marking him with gorgeous purple hickeys. “Already so wet and stretched out perfect for my big cock.”

Steve wants to retort, say something of equal vulgarity, tell him just how bad he needs Billy to fuck him blind, shove his head into the pillow and pound into his ass. But all he can do is push onto those two fingers, whimper breathlessly against Billy’s lips, and clutch his hands in the fabric of his shirt.

“Gotta keep quiet, baby, can’t have you waking up the whole campus. Think you can do that for me?”

He nods, profusely, and stumbles through his words, “Yes, yes, I’ll shut up, please just… I-I need to relieve some goddamn stress.”

Billy’s self-satisfied smirk cracks open a little to show teeth as he chuckles, a low and dark rumble that Steve feels beneath his palms. “I can help you with that.”

And Billy kisses him again, licks into the sweetness of Steve’s mouth, swallowing every little whimper that comes whenever those digits curl, fully inside of Steve’s ass. When he pulls them out he leaves behind an aching emptiness; Steve feeling so needy he’s actually a slight bit uncomfortable in the absence of being filled and stretched.

“Go sit on the bed,” Billy demands, smirking with lidded eyes, gazing at Steve with such promises, he can’t help but melt a bit.

Steve doesn’t hesitate before sitting down on his bed; it’s a small and wooden frame, big enough for one person, two if they’re on their sides or on top of one another. All kinds of things are possible even with limited space, as these two have discovered through the last half year.

Billy lifts off his shirt and drops the shorts, exposing his steely, veiny cock, standing to full attention at Steve’s eye height, and he feels his entire body twitch with far too much enthusiasm, mouth running at the sight like a fucking dog and bone. Billy moves closer, spreads his legs and plants them on either side of Steve.

“Wanna suck me off, pretty boy?” it's barely an ask, as Billy brings one hand to drag his fingers through Steve’s hair, the other to angle the tip of his fat dick towards Steve’s lips.

Steve gazes up at him through his lashes, looking almost thankful for the opportunity, and he’s not gonna lie, there is something so enjoyable about having Billy’s cock heavy in his mouth, although he’s not super into swallowing, he’d do it for him.

So he wets his lips, runs his tongue flat and broad against Billy’s blunt head like it’s a goddamn ice cream cone, watches how he bites his lip, staring at how Steve tentatively tastes him before sinking down abruptly, all the way till his nose brushes against Billy’s lower abdomen, his dick hitting the back of Steve’s throat.

“Fuck, Harrington,” Billy groans out and brings a hand against the wall to support himself as he bends forward.

Steve works his tongue, swallows around the head, hollowing his cheeks as he slowly pulls off again till he can suck at the tip, then goes back down, starts bobbing and moaning.

Billy “helps” a bit, catching on to the rhythm and thrusting along to it, testing to see just how deep and fast he can go before Steve would start complaining. Which proves to be quite a bit more than Steve offered up initially; with a fist locked tightly in his hair, he relaxes as much as he can to allow Billy free reigns of fucking into his mouth, sloppy and careless and obscene, spit running down Steve’s chin as he does nothing but enjoy being used by Billy.

Billy Billy Billy

Billy’s scent is incredible, musky and dominant and salty, his sweat tasting all the same, and Steve has started to notice that whenever they’re together, whenever they’re intimate, Billy doesn’t bother with cologne or deodorant or anything that might obscure his smell. Maybe Billy doesn’t care to be all fancy and proper around Steve like he is with the girls or other guys around campus. Maybe he knows it drives Steve wild.

Steve had gotten so lost in the moment, that when Billy pulls all the way out it’s a sudden awakening, and Steve swallows only spit and pre, wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand and is left gasping for air like he just ran a marathon.

“Where do you keep your condoms?” Billy sounds just as out of breath, probably having been all too close to cumming already.

Eagerness so apparent when he throws himself onto the bed it’s almost embarrassing, as he dives for the large box underneath his bed. It takes a second of rummaging through dildos and vibrators and lubes to find a condom wrapper, and barely does he get to offer it up before Billy yanks it from his fingers.

He fiddles a bit with the foil, grinning in a way that makes Steve’s skin crawl wonderfully, then asks, “Want me to take you from behind? Fuck you hard into your bed?” each word a lascivious little promise.

“Please…” Steve’s voice quivers with wanton.

Loves getting absolutely railed by Billy, he trusts him explicitly, would let him do anything. Even if Billy doesn’t feel the same way about Steve, Steve can’t get enough of him; hasn’t been able to think of anyone else or even be with someone other than Billy since they started this little affair months ago.

Billy Billy Billy.

He gets on all fours, gathers his legs and bends down to press his face into his pillow, arching his back. Heart beats faster, full erection twitching where it dangles alone, as he feels the mattress dip on either side of his knees when Billy positions himself behind.

“Mmmh, I like it when you say please and beg for it.” With the condom on, he rubs the fat head of his cock against Steve’s clenching entrance, but then slips it between cheeks, swaying his hips back and forth as he teases with too little.

“Please, Billy,” Steve whines, moves his ass closer for more, but a pair of strong hands stills him. “Please please please, Billy, I need you to fuck me so bad, I-I want your cock, please.”

And Billy pulls away. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” Bucks his hips as he shoves his girthy cock all the way in in one fell swoop.

Steve clasps his hand flat over his mouth to keep in the surge of moans that comes from Billy setting a relentless pace, slow but rough, skin slapping together louder than Steve’s own croons and keening.

“Like that?” Billy laughs, nasty and snide, grinning like a wolf staring down at a helpless sheep.

A sheep whose cries gets suppressed by a pillow, as Steve bites into it in his tries to keep quiet, but the way Billy fucks him all brutal and savage feels absolutely incredible, making his eyes roll back.

“God, you take my cock so well, princess,” his growl hot and predatory.

Billy bends forward, grabbing Steve by the neck for support, hand like a vice and pressing him harder into the bed, the other hand on his hip.

“That ok for you?” he asks as if he cares about Steve.

Or maybe that’s just how Steve hears it.

“Y-yes, ahh, fuck!” he says in a hurried tone before biting down on his lip again to keep those kinds of bawdy sounds in.

“Good.” And Billy picks up the speed, thrusts going shallow as he shoves into Steve like both their lives depend on it, making the bed shake and creak beneath their weight.

Each deep plunge more phenomenal than the other, driving straight into his prostate; he won’t last long if Billy keeps this up, waves of the purest arousal drowning out all his other senses, and Steve lets himself get pulled under the current.

“Fuck, baby, love how tight your ass is, arrh, best hole in all of Indiana,” Billy’s voice deep and gravely as he praises Steve with words dipped in honeyed lust. “So eager to suck me dry, all needy and starved for my cock.”

Anyone that has ever had even one conversation with Billy Hargrove will know just how much he loves to listen to himself talk, but Steve can’t blame him, for now there’s nothing more in his world than Billy’s thick erection and sultry voice. Praising him, calling him dear names, groaning and cursing about how fucking good he is. He could listen to it all night; wants to listen to it for the rest of his life.

“Feel so good, princess.”

Billy…

“So nice and warm and soft inside of you.”

Billy…

“Wanna cum inside of you so bad.”

“Billy, I’m-I’m… so close, ah-h-” Steve’s voice a mess in contrast to how cool and collected Billy remains.

“Shh, gotta be quiet,” his tone soft and delicate as he continues to utterly ram into Steve’s sensitive body, pounding like a hammer.

He bends down, snakes his arm around Steve to cover his mouth, and angles him to the side to kiss across his cheek, nibble at his jawline, bite down his neck.

“Show me how good I make you feel, let me watch you ruin your sheets.”

Steve moans out in agreeance into his hand strong and calloused against his lips, then brings his own down to fist at his leaking prick, throbbing and filled and oh so close, he’s toeing the finish line, only a few strokes away from doing as told, wet and slick with pre, seeking to find the same rhythm as Billy fucks into him, like a rabid dog.

His orgasm is sudden, like being shoved into a pool of euphoria, bottomless and filling his lungs.

“God, yes, fuck, just like that,” Billy growls into his ear, burning hot and white, bringing an extra, warm, thick wave of thrill through Steve’s emptying cock.

He jerks quick and uncontrolled as he spills onto his sheets, toes twitching on the edge of cramping up as his body tenses, Billy’s girthy cock still drilling into him, and when Steve is ready to go limp, blissed out and finally relaxed, Billy leans away.

Grabs him by the hips to continue thrusting, bucking, slapping skin together as he pulls out to the tip just to slam right back in, tugging at Steve’s hips till he’s fully buried to the hilt, then once more, twice, thrice, ramming into Steve where jolts of over stimulated pleasure and a burning sensation makes him cry into his pillow.

And Billy digs his nails into soft flesh as he brings them together, crude and deep as he cums, breathless with a stutter, he brings a hand next to Steve’s head for support. It’s short and silent and uneventful, perfected from years of hiding and fucking around; he once told Steve that loves to fuck in all too public places, dangerous and with high chances of getting caught. Said he wanted to bring Steve to some of those places.

Steve’s… kinda hard again. Sore, exhausted, satisfied, sure, but definitely not entirely flaccid.

Billy kisses him down his back, across every bump of his spine that he can reach, rubbing soothingly against where his nails have left marks, then pulls out and gets off the bed. He pulls off the condom and throws it into the trash can, untied and reckless.

“How you doing?” he asks as he gets dressed, back turned to Steve.

Who’s still bent over, legs spread out to steady himself a bit, but nevertheless unmoving, staring at Billy’s gorgeous back muscles.

“I’m… yeah, I’m good,” Steve chuckles with a light heart and a way too satisfied and appreciative smile.

Bluest of eyes glance at him over a shoulder, and after putting on his shirt again, Billy goes to kneel by the bed, where he pushes aside a few locks of hair so that he can properly look Steve in the eyes.

Steve thinks it unfair, that the way Billy touches him gently like this burns more than when he holds him down like he did tonight. He hates how easy he is, how needy he is for pure affection, and he can feel it creep up in red on his cheeks.

“You should probably clean all that up before it dries,” Billy says so nonchalant, like their tender little moment here just doesn’t affect him at all.

And Steve can’t do anything but sigh, hopelessly in love with someone who is, as Billy puts it, “A man of the people.”

“Yeah… it’d be real gross if I slept like this,” Steve huffs and sits back on his heels.

“Just get some tissues to wipe it off then sleep on a towel till you can change your sheets tomorrow,” Billy explains, eyeing the wet stain seeping into the fabric, “It’s what I do.”

Then he stands up again, stretching and scratching his stomach with a tired and pleased groan, before heading for the door.

“See you next time, Harrington.”

#Harringrove #My Writing #Lemon #Mystery Prompt #500 Followers #College AU #Modern Day AU #sergeantjamesrogers

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harrysgloves · 4 years

Text

Trouble (college roommate!AU)

>>>Catch up with master list here!<<<

word count: 4.5k

story summary: You’re nothing but trouble and Harry can’t help the fact that he wants a taste.

warnings: LANGUAGE (feel like everyone reading me shouldn’t be surprised by this) // girl on girl smut (oral sex) // Bisexual character.

a/n: Figured my next fic should be a bit different then the last but let me warn you now that this will have a bisexual MC and many bisexual/gay supporting characters if this offends you this is not the story for you!

Also, you may disagree with a lot of the shit the MC does and you’re more than welcome to not read at any point if you get uncomfortable.

>>><<<

"Fuck this." Rose, your part-time fuckbuddy and full time best friend, groaned from the armchair you were leaning back against. She threw her notebook down on the living room floor. It landed directly beside you causing you to look up from your own notes, turning your head slightly to see her long blonde hair flowing down the side of the armrest, her bright eyes that you loved so much staring off at the ceiling making you smile.

"Yeah, this sucks." You agreed as you laid down on the floor, hands covering your face. You thought college meant fun and freedom not crying about some test you definitely weren't prepared for the next day.

For it being your second semester, you still weren’t any way prepared for the shit show that was college. You hated waking up early, hated studying, the only thing you were good at? Partying, but you tried your best to at least semi-pass your classes so your parents didn’t murder you when you came back home for the holidays.

“We should be strippers.” Rose said, snapping you out of your thoughts with a laugh. Turning your head to look at her daydreaming about the good life of not having to study for a math test ever again.

Which was dumb anyway because you weren’t even majoring in anything that required math so you didn’t understand why you still had to take core classes. Especially since you had to pay for the classes you weren’t even going to use in the future.

“Might need to if I fail this test.” You sighed, eyes staring up at the ceiling of your shitty on-campus apartment that you loved so much because it was your first one. Even if the tap in the kitchen dripped all night long and the washer and dryer didn’t work half the time. It was still yours, well, and your roommates but you liked him so it wasn’t that big of a deal to share your space.

He was a friend of a friend who always seemed to be hanging around your little group all the time anyway so when he needed a place to live and you had an extra room it was a no brainer. It didn’t hurt that he wasn’t the worst to look at when he walked around in just a towel after his shower.

Plus, he let you decorate how you wanted and cleaned up after himself. In your book, he was a pretty great roommate. A lot better than your last.

“Yeah, it’s time for a break.” Rose said as she rolled off your navy blue chair onto the white rug that took up most of your living room floor.

She crawled over to you, straddling your hips, her red denim skirt riding up her tanned tattooed thighs as she smiled so innocently down to you, her sun-kissed blonde hair tickling your face as she leaned over you. Her hands resting on either side of your head.

“You gotta stop stealing my clothes.” You complained, hands rubbing up and down her thighs before tugging gently on the skirt that used to be yours but was now apparently hers.

“No way. It’s why I’m your friend.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes, letting out an annoyed huff.

“That's the only reason?” You questioned eyes focusing back on her irritatingly smiling face. She hummed pondering your question, knowing it was pissing you off the longer she took to answer you.

“Oh, well you also buy me lunch.” She giggled as you tried to push her off you. Your hands gripping her hips as you pushed.

“Okay! Okay!” She laughed loudly, hands grabbing yours to stop you. “You’re also good in bed. There’s that too.”

“That’s it. You’re buying lunch for a month.” You muttered, eyes drifting away from her. She could be such a brat when she wanted to be.

Of course, that’s what you liked best about her.

“Not happening! You’re the one with a hot daddy buying your shit. We gotta use that black credit card while we can before the money train stops.” She pouted, her perfect dusty rose painted lip sticking out and all.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to give my money to someone else.” You laughed as she sat up, faking being shocked, knowing damn well you wouldn’t ever tell her no. Especially when it came to money.

Rose didn’t have nearly the nice life growing up like you did. She didn’t have the nice parents or the nice 4 bedroom house with a white picket fence. No, she had many reasons to be the way she was. You, on the other hand? You had no excuse.

You just liked doing whatever the hell you felt like whenever you wanted.

You liked being completely and totally free to be with whoever you wanted to. You didn’t like being tied down. Not to friends, not to anyone you slept with. You had a bad habit of hurting people doing whatever the hell you pleased.

Not like you cared much. You always got what you wanted in the end anyway and you always gave fair warning that you were a bridge burner. Giving up on people before they had a chance to hurt you should have been considered one of your kinks.

It wasn’t that you weren’t a nice person. You were, maybe even a little too nice sometimes. You just didn’t put up with anyone’s shit. The second a person got too clingy or didn’t understand that no, you didn’t want to date them. They got the ax. To you, college was the time in your life for you to find yourself. Find out what you liked and what you didn’t. Have all the fun experiences you could possibly have in 4 years before being forced to settle down into a boring office job for the next 40 years of your life.

Now was the time for you to be adventurous and spontaneous. You didn’t have time for people’s shit and you didn’t have time to be tied down to someone.

Luckily, most of your friends understood your way of thinking. Rose was one of the lucky few you kept close to you. One of the ones you actually opened up to and not just slept with whenever she was single and you were… bored. She understood your need to never say no to anything. She got the fact you craved to try anything and everything you could possibly do in the short amount of time you gave yourself.

She was also the world's worst influence and encouraged your bad behavior. Plus, she joined in most of the time which made everything a lot more fun.

“What happened to Josh?” You asked as she laid back down over top of you. Your loose black crop top band tee pushed up higher on your chest as she pressed harder up against you.

“You mean Josh-U-AHH?” She giggled, smiling wide as she rested on her forearms around your head. Her nose trailing softly against your neck.

“Mhm.” You said, a shiver running down your spine when she paused, lips hovering so close to the sweet spot on your neck you could feel her hot breath hitting your skin.

“Ditched him. He didn’t think it was funny that I kept screaming Josh-U-AHH every time he tried to fuck me.” She said before pressing her velvety soft lips exactly where you wanted her to. The moan you would have let out was replaced with a chuckling laugh.

“Oh my God. What a loser. Everyone loves Friends.” You could feel her lips curl into a smile as she hummed out her agreement. Her mouth trailing light kisses across down your neck. Your body arching ever so slightly into her. Hands grasping her thighs, running up her smooth legs, bunching her skirt around her waist.

When her perfectly straight teeth nipped gently at the crook of your neck, you gasped, knees instinctively bending your legs pressed tightly together.

Your other favorite thing about Rose? She knew how to play dirty. The girl could read you like a damn book. Always knew exactly which buttons to press to get you going.

She could have you whimpering in seconds.

Her hand wrapped around the back of your neck pulling you up into a kiss. Her plump supple lips pressed so fiercely against yours, making your pulse pick up in anticipation. Wanting her so badly you could feel the ache running through your dampening core. Your legs sliding back and forth as her tongue waited for no invitation to claim whatever she wanted.

She was always like this with you, fiery, in control, you loved her like this. On top of you making your body burn with desire.

"Gonna let me fuck you?" She asked, pulling back from your open and waiting mouth so slightly her lips were still touching yours as she spoke.

Your core clenched at her question. A begging whimper coming from you as you nodded your head yes.

Her lips back on yours with so much force it knocked the air from your lungs. Leaving you gasping in a breath of totally her. The intoxicating scent of her sweet strawberry body wash flooding your senses.

Her one hand gripping tightly on the back of your neck as her other slid slowly up your flowing tee. Her nimble movements against your bare breast had you arching your back into her gentle touch. Needing so much more than she was giving you.

Right as you were about to beg for her to stop teasing you the front door to your apartment flew open.

"Jesus, y'fuck in the middle of the livin' room with the door unlocked?" He grumbled, one earbud still in his ear.

"Whatever. You're just jelly I'm fuckin' your girl, Styles." Rose said, leaning back to give Harry a sickeningly sweet smile across her beautiful face. Her hands were still running under your shirt making you bite your lip to suppress your sounds.

You had no idea why she loved teasing Harry so much about this. It wasn't like you two had ever hooked up and honestly he never showed much interest in you. Even before he lived with you he was very indifferent about your existence in your guys' friend group.

You chatted here and there a few times. Got drunk together a lot but other than the cigarette chats outside the bars or at friends parties, you both seemed to go your separate ways.

Even living with the guy you hardly hung out together. Besides the handful of nights, you'd stay in, watching scary movies curled up on your couch. He'd come back from whatever the hell he did and would sit with you, teasing you every time you jumped at a cheap scare.

He rolled his enchanting green eyes as he walked past you two towards his bedroom. You maybe would have possibly been a bit embarrassed but the smirk he shot you as his glance so subtly met yours made your stomach do somersaults.

"You always gotta do that to him?" You questioned when you heard the door to his room shut.

"Shut up. He was totally eye-fucking you. I have no idea why you haven't slept with him yet you've done all our other friends." She said, hands retreating from under your shirt.

"Hey!" You sat up on your elbows so quickly she stumbled back a little on your hips. You knew it was true but damn, she didn’t have to make it sound so bad. You were only having some fun. Besides, she slept with half the people you had so she really had no room to be talking shit.

"What? It's true!" She said with that bright smile across her face, knowing she was getting under your skin.

"Yeah but Harry's not interested, like at all. I mean, he avoids me almost like the plague when we all go out." You sighed, laying back down flat on the floor.

You weren’t used to people not throwing themselves at you. Honestly, Harry was the only guy in your group of friends you hadn’t slept with and it had more to do with him than you. The guy was like a closed book which of course made him so much more intriguing when he never took any of your advances.

"Oh, he's interested. He's just not into sharing." She said, your eyebrows furrowed together as you thought back to all the people he’d brought over to the apartment.

He honestly didn’t seem to have a problem with sharing, so you weren’t really sure what she was getting at. He didn’t seem to ever have anything official but he’d only hang out with one person at a time. Something that hadn’t ever been your style but you respected his decision to not be involved in all the drama that usually followed with your group of friends.

"You know what? Why don't you fuck him if you're so set on him getting laid?" You asked, peering up at the blonde still sitting on top of you.

"He's not my type." She said, making you laugh instantly, Harry had a way of being everyone’s type.

"Bullshit, he's like a walking sex dream." You laughed the second her cheeks tinted the slightest shade of pink. Knowing damn well she had done her fair share of checking him out but she was sort of right. Rose had a bad habit of chasing down frat boys which always sucked when she dated them and you had to pretend to like them when you all hung out.

Which was always extra hard since they were all pervy idiots who always asked to watch you two hook up and Rose would never let you slap the shit out of them for asking that. Even though they deserved it.

"Yeah, but he's too smart. I need my men to be as dumb as a doornail." She said, pulling you out of your thoughts. Her smiling face beaming down at you and you wished she was joking but you knew she wasn’t.

"Oh my God, you're a terrible person." You said cracking up as she swatted your shoulder, obviously offended.

"I am not!" She said, her voice raising, pissed off you were laughing at her. You couldn’t help it though, she was being so serious and it was the funniest shit you’d heard in a while.

"You kind of are but whatever.” You sighed, lifting your head up slightly to look around her at Harry’s door to make sure it was still closed. “Besides a guy that looks like that is probably shit in bed anyway."

"I heard he's hung." She said, making your head snap back around to look at her.

"What the fuck? Where'd you hear that?" You asked, sitting back up slightly. Most of the people he had hooked up with weren’t in your group of friends so you never heard anything about him. Besides when he brought people home, which really didn’t happen as often as you bringing people home, and you’d hear them in his bedroom.

But you really thought they were exaggerating.

"Elena, she was screwing him for a bit." Rose said, her eyes moving away from yours as you frowned slightly. You thought those two were together for a while and if you were being honest you were very much Team Relena. They were super cute together and she was so much better than that dumbass Josh. Plus, Rose deserved to be happy with someone in an actual committed relationship at some point, not anything you’d ever be able to give her.

Luckily, she always understood that and it never got in the way of your friendship. If anything it made you guys closer.

"Wait, is that why you two broke it off and you went for dumbass Josh?" You asked, trying to get her attention back to you but she shrugged you off. Trying hard to act like it didn’t bother her when you know it did.

"Yeah, Mr. Smarty pants over there stole my girl." She said with a forced laugh trying to move the attention off of the fact she was a little hurt and you didn’t blame her.

The one time she had openly dated someone in a while and she got left for someone else? Plus, Harry and Elena weren’t even dating or hanging out now. Harry hadn’t even hung around her at any parties or bothered to bring her back to your guys' apartment. You wouldn’t even have known they hooked up if Rose didn’t tell you. You knew that had to hurt, which was just another reason on the long list of why you don’t date.

"At least she was shit in bed?" You asked, trying to get her to cheer up a bit.

"Who's the terrible person now?" She said with a giggle as you tried to push her off you again.

"Get off me." You grumbled, her hands grabbing onto yours when you tried your hardest to get away from her. She wasn’t going to be a dick to you and also try to still get you to sleep with her, wasn’t going to happen.

"No way! I'm gonna prove to you that he's into you." She sounded so determined, it made you roll your eyes. Shaking your head at her.

"You know, most people, when they're fucking someone aren't trying to pimp them out to someone else." You said, raising your eyebrow as you questioned why the hell she was so set on this but eventually settled on the fact that if you screwed him he’d more than likely leave Elena alone for her.

"Good thing we only fuck when we're bored or avoiding homework." Her sweet smile spreading wide across her perfectly flawless face.

"I see how it is." You huffed out, arms crossing over your chest as you pout your lips at her. She loved teasing you about this shit so much it was basically a part of your everyday routine. She’d tease you about something, you’d act upset, then you guys fucked. It was your thing.

"Awe baby,” She cooed at you, leaning down, brushing the hair out of your face. “Don't act so surprised. You couldn't date anyone if your life depended on it. Besides, I'm your best friend and I like proving you wrong when I know I'm right."

"Fine, whatever, but when I'm right you owe me lunch for a week and not the shit that comes with your college fees either I'm talking real lunch." You said, finally realizing she wasn’t going to leave this alone. It was your last roommate all over again, only this time you didn’t think Harry would move out when Rose harassed him nonstop.

"Well, when I win you owe me lunch at that real nice sushi place I like on you and not your fancy daddy." She smiled, teasing you about your sugar daddy. Who she’d only met once but still decided that he was hot shit and you needed to marry him.

"Be prepared to lose." You shrugged, knowing she was going to lose this bet she had set up. It wasn’t like you really turned many people down and Harry had plenty of opportunities he just never took them. So it looked like you were going to be having lunch on her for a week.

"So, what are you going to do? Write a little note that says do you want to fuck Y/N? Circle yes or no, under his door?" You asked, sitting up slightly before she could start getting you worked up again and the thought slipped your mind.

She always had a way of distracting you.

"I have my own ideas. Damn, give me some credit." She sat back, pouting that you’d interrupted her before she could kiss you again. Her big doe eyes pleading with you to drop it already and you didn’t blame her. That studying was pointless and there was no way you two were going to do it.

And you guys hadn’t hooked up in a while.

"Well, you got to tell me what it is!" You said loudly, sighing, and laying back down on the floor. Your mind reeling with all the crazy shit she’d probably do to him. Which made you silently cringe, not wanting her to chase off the one good roommate you’d manage to keep around.

"I will but we were kind of in the middle of something and I know you haven't been laid since you slept with Finn like 3 weeks ago." She whined, burying her head in the crook of your neck. Her blonde hair laying across your face making you sputter and spit it out of your mouth. Your hands desperately swatting away the long strands that you were now eating.

"Wow, just keep up with my sex life why don't you." You said, rolling your eyes as she finally sat up again and got her fucking hair out of your face.

It might have smelled amazing but it wasn’t so much fun to eat.

"Kind of hard to miss when he bragged about it at that frat party Josh and his boys threw last weekend." Your nose immediately crinkled in disgust. Sure, you understood bragging rights but to a whole party? No way.

"Ew." You fake gagged, the guy might have been your friend but damn he needed to learn some manners. You never talked about your conquests unless people asked and hardly even then. You kept your shit to yourself.

"Eh, he talked you up real good." She shrugged, leaning back down to your level, her lips pressing softly against the place right behind your ear that always made you gasp. You felt the smile on her lips the second the air left your lungs.

“You talk me up too?” You asked as she continued her delicious assault on your neck. Her lips pressing lightly against your hot skin as your legs pressed together.

“Always do.” She whispered so quietly before her teeth gazed gently against your ear lobe. Your body arching into her as she pulled away. Her smiling face was beautiful, it felt like the sun was looking down at you.

Her hands slipping back around to the back of your neck while she enjoyed the view of you already getting so needy for her. Your big pouty lips sticking out for her to kiss but the gently shaking no of her head made you whine.

“Please?” You whined, all thoughts of before completely wiped from your mind as you pleaded up to her. Hands gripping her waist in a desperate attempt to pull her closer to you.

She hummed, amused at the fact you were already a mess. Her lips pressed harshly against yours, her lipstick smashing all against your face but you didn’t care one bit.

You felt that familiar fire of need burning so deeply in the pit of your stomach. Your nails digging into the flesh of her ass when you ground her hips forward over top of you, the sweetest sounding moan drifting from her as her core ran against your midsection.

You smiled, seizing the opportunity for your tongue to intrude her mouth. It wasn’t often you took control, always happy to let someone else play the lead but you were tired of waiting. Tired of her playing her games.

But that wasn't her style. No, letting you take control wasn't something she was into. She liked you desperate, needy, begging. The complete opposite of how you usually were outside of the bedroom or in this case the living room floor.

Her lips disconnected from yours. She left wet hot kisses slowly down your neck as her hands flipped up your shirt. Your bare breast on complete display and you might have said something about not being the safety of your room but when her tongue swiped over your already pebbled nipple it was game over.

Your chest arching into her mouth as her amused eyes flickered up to yours. A smile across her face as her tongue trailed across your sternum down the sensitive skin of your hips. She pulled back from you, biting her lip as she climbed between your legs.

You whimpered at the sight, her hands running down the inside of your legs as she pushed your skirt up around your hips. Your eyes peering down at the absolute assault she was doing to your body. Wet kisses trailing the inside of your legs followed by small love bites here and there.

Your hands balled up in fists, nails digging into the palm of your hands as you shifted your hips closer to her face. Whining when she stopped what she was doing to look at you.

"What's wrong, baby?" She asked in that sweet voice you loved so much, wrapping her fingers around the soaking black cotton of your underwear and moving it aside.

"Please, God, please. Just touch me." You begged yet again but the second your hips shifted into her she pulled back from you, tsking.

"Gotta ask nicer than that." She mused, as your head fell back to the floor. She was trying to murder you, literally murder you.

"Please, Rose."

A loud moan leaving you the second her tongue ran across your slick folds. Your knees desperately trying to close around her but she kept pressure on both legs, holding you open for her.

"Keep your head back, baby." She said as her fingers slipped into you and if you would have been in your right state of mind you might have asked why or even looked up.

So of course you didn't notice Harry standing in the kitchen. Wide-eyed, mouth gaping as he held the fridge door open like an idiot. You didn't notice Rose turning her head around to look at him, shooting him a sly wink before pounding into your sweet spot with such precision you could already feel your walls clamping around her hand.

"Gonna sing for me?" She asked, tongue going back to run circles around your clit. Your body felt like it was vibrating from how well she knew how to work you.

All you could do was mumble out a soft "mhm" through your moans. Your body felt like it was convulsing underneath her as your eye clenched together tightly. The pit in your stomach growing so warm before your orgasm washed over you in violent waves of euphoria.

You couldn't even lift your head when she was through. You gasped for air as you laid on the floor, legs feeling like jello as the high finally subsided.

"Enjoy the show?" She said, breaking through your foggy mind as you sat up on your forearms, eyes instantly locking on Harry's wide green eyes. Then promptly moving downward to the bulge in his basketball shorts. A smug smile across your face as he sputtered about for words.

"Uh, just came to get water." He said, a bottle of water not in hand as he turned to bolt for the safety of his room.

"Fuck." You groaned, laying back down on the floor. "I owe you lunch."

"Yeah, you do!"

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles x Y/N #Fanfic #Fanfiction #writing #mine #Trouble

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imagines-hoarder · 4 years

Text

The Devil in the Dark- Dark!Steve Rogers

Warning: smut, murder, abuse, gaslighting, swearing, drug and alcohol abuse

Word Count: 6,400

Summary: 70s AU; When a handsome stranger rolls into town, you get caught up in being the center of his attention. You could never expect how falling in love with him would change your life forever.

Masterlist

*I don’t think I’m pleased by what I’ve created, and honestly no one asked for what I am unleashing. This is my first dip into the marvel universe and probably the darkest thing I have ever written so be warned; this is not for the faint of heart. For those of you who can get through all 6,000 words, I’d love to get your feedback. This may only be the beginning. xoxox*

The room has become muggy and sweat clung to your neck as you pawed the velvet sofa. Everything had felt fuzzy at the edges after you smoked a joint in one of the shady rooms upstairs. After a couple more shots, you hit the dance floor and everything else in the last 30 minutes had been a blur. Now you sat watching everyone laugh and feign geniality without your rose-tinted lenses. You were at a party that you should have been ashamed of. Cigarettes, booze, and coke had awoken something sinful in the partygoers and after getting your own fill, you just preferred to watch.

Mel had tried to sell it to you earlier that evening as something else entirely: “It’s just gonna be a small thing, okay? Brian wants to see everyone again before we go back to A-State.” She had called just after your mother and her boyfriend departed for their first barstools of the night. She knew better than to call any earlier.

“Last time I checked, Brian doesn’t really do small gigs. Remember when he put on your birthday party last year and invited all his buddies? I'm pretty sure his scrawny friend was the one who puked in your fish tank,” you responded, twirling the landline cord around your finger and picking at a slice of leftover pizza. “You know I'm coming anyway. It’s gonna get really quiet around here in a couple of weeks when you go back to school.”

“Not if you come with me,” she said with a singsong tone.

“That’s why I’m staying here in the first place.” The pizza didn’t sound too appealing as your stomach turned sour. “If I wash and style a couple more heads, I should have enough money to join you and the meatheads for the Spring semester. Then we can get hammered every weekend together… just like old times.” You find comfort from her laughter on the other end.

You had spent the last couple minutes recalling the last time you saw Mel before you started people watching from the sidelines. You're pretty sure she was the one who rolled your joint, sitting wasted on Brian’s lap. When your eyes ached from staring at crowded bodies, you laid your head back and shut your eyes, letting the beat of the music ground you.

It couldn’t have taken more than a moment for the couch to sink under the weight of another person. “You alright over here?” It was a dude; no doubt he thought you were passed out or an easy lay.

You rolled your head to get a good look at him, and it was like the Big Man himself had decided to serve you sex on legs, carrying a Miller Light and smelling like cigarettes. He wasn’t from around here and wasn’t in college, that much you could tell; no guy fresh from adolescence could grow a beard like his. He wore a button-down that was half open and exposed how warm he was as a bead of sweat trickled down his neck. You had been so ready to tell him to fuck off until you met that pretty blue gaze. You must have looked like some creep undressing him with your eyes.

“I’m steller. You probably think I’m a burnout that can’t control myself,” you shouted to him, though he was close enough to hear you just fine.

“Well, I never said that.” His low laugh sounded like music. “I saw you come from upstairs. Wanted to make sure you weren't choking on vomit.”

“That would make a fun story. Instead, I’m just people watching.” You turned your attention back to the bodies getting hot and heavy on a makeshift dance floor and hoped he wouldn’t notice the red blooming in your cheeks.

“I think that can be fun, especially when everyone around you is a stranger.” It was clear he wasn’t from Arkansas. His voice was as smooth as butter but lacked the draw everyone else in the room had.

When you looked back at him, he was still looking at you. You extended your hand and he took it into his own for a firm shake before letting it far to the couch. You introduced yourself and smiled when you were able to restrain your nerves. “Now we’re not strangers to each other.” He returned the gesture and gave you a smile so dazzling it nearly sobered you.

“Name’s Steve.” He gave the room a passive glance-over without ever indicating he spotted another familiar face. “I’m not from around here. Just met a guy in town today and he told me I should stop by; he said he was the host.”

“Brian?” He gave you a nod but you’re sure he couldn’t recall what he looked like. “Yeah I know him; we grew up together. I’m actually really close with his girlfriend, Mel.” You knew he was listening but didn’t want to lose his attention to small talk. “And I know you’re not from around here, Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a townie, born and raised. I would have noticed a man like you if you were kicking around any earlier than now.”

He rewarded you with another smile, stained with allure. “I’m just passing through Arkansas and thought I would stay the night. I’ve never even driven through Arkansas; kind of one of those places you forget is on the map.”

“How do you think I feel? I’m living in this unremarkable town in a forgettable state.” He joined you in laughing as the music became white noise. You pulled your legs under your body as you leaned in closer to him. You quickly realized you must have looked so young and so enamored; no stupid. You couldn’t move now but he didn’t seem to mind.

“You know, I like your style. You’re a beauty with a mouth on you.”

“Do you want to see what else my mouth can do.” It fell from your lips before you could stop it. You quickly looked away from him in hopes of returning to the conversation you were pursuing before you ruined it. His gaze burned into your face before he got up. You could have scolded yourself for how soon you played your cards. Before you could blame the substances in your system for your poor behavior, he stood in front of you trying to regain your attention.

When you looked up, his head jerked toward the door. “You wanna smoke outside?” Something about the question made you tense. You could use some fresh air and thought Steve could make good company, but you didn’t want him to think you’d be an easy lay he could fuck around the corner; you were sure that was the impression your lewd comment left. He must have sensed your reluctance. “We can stay here if you want but I can barely hear you over the music, doll. Promise I won’t try anything on ya,” he disclosed.

Maybe it was a bad idea, but you decided to go anyways. He offered you his hand as he detached you from the velveteen sofa. Before you were even out the door, he was pulling a have-full carton of cigarettes from his pocket and wedged one between his lips. No one else was outside, but you could hear the muffled rhythm of a Donna Summers tune starting up by the time you settled at the edge of the house. After supplying you with a cigarette of your own and drawing close to light it, you reached a comfortable silence that let you take your drags in peace.

“So why California,” you asked. You supposed his brusque appearance could sell magazines or movie tickets. “Trying to catch your big break in Hollywood?”

“Nah, just need a fresh start. I’ve been living in the cold all my life, just wanted a fresh start somewhere warm, you know?”

You give him an affirming nod. “The weather’s not too one this end of the country, I guess. Where are you coming from anyways?”

He just chuckled it off with an air of skepticism. “You sure ask a lot of questions.”

“Well we aren’t strangers anymore, right? We’re sharing a smoke, having a laugh...”

He just shrugged, deflecting the question in the process. “Maybe I wanna know more about you.”

“There’s not much to know about me.”

“Well, I don't believe that for a second.” You roll your eyes and lean against the brick wall, listening but refusing to give him the pleasure of seeing you blush. “You’re young, you're beautiful… girls like you aren’t born to both start and end in nowhere Arkansas.”

''I want to, but not all of us have the luxury of up and moving to California, Stevie.” When you looked over to him, he had a look that you hoped wasn’t pity. “Plus, I’m earning my Associates Degree at Arkansas State. I’ve got one more year of being tied to this place.”

“Stevie... Gosh, I haven’t been called that since I was a kid.” You smirk at him, taking his change in the subject as an olive branch. The air became quiet again, but you were thankful there was no ill-ease. You just closed your eyes and inhaled the last of the smoke warming your lungs. Maybe if you stood in the moment a little longer, you could convince yourself this handsome man was real once you sobered up.

All too soon, you had put out the cigarette butt under your shoe and took it as a sign to start walking back home. It had to be past four a.m. and it looked like the moon would make its departure sometime soon. “Well it was a real pleasure for you to meet me Stevie, but I should start moving before it gets any later.” You pushed yourself off of the wall and tucked your hands in the pockets of your jumper dress. “I hope you find what you’re looking for in California.”

He threw his butt out into some nearby rocks before stepping a little closer to you “Come on doll, let me drive you home. It’s late and everyone else is wasted out of their mind. Plus, I don’t think Brian even knows I was here; he just invited me cause I helped him jump his car this morning.” He was too nice to be true, but you didn’t think your mind was capable of creating something as beautiful as him. Maybe you wouldn’t mind it so much if he stuck his rough hands up your dress after all. He’d be gone in a day anyways.

“You know, young women aren’t supposed to take rides from strangers, right?” You started to walk down the driveway and tried to restrain your smugness as you heard his heavy footsteps trail behind you.

With the extra height he had on you, he caught up in no time, carefully tugging at your arm so you looked back at him. Your arm rubbed against his chest and you now knew for sure that he had more than just a pretty face on him. “I thought you said we weren’t strangers,” he retaliated. He didn’t seem like the type of man to take no for an answer, but you weren’t hoping to put up too much of a fight. As you looked at him in the moment, you saw him look you over and his cornflower blue eyes held a look that said there was something he desired about you too.

He let you pull away from him as you decided to make your final impulsive decision of the night. “Alright hotshot, which ride is yours?”

You had him drop you off a couple houses away when he drove into your neighborhood. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to invite him inside for a beer and a ‘farewell gift’, but you were sure that your mom and Pierce were already passed out and drained any bottles that were left in the fridge on their way in. Still, you spent a couple minutes steaming up the windows in his car as he slowly pushed up your dress.

You pushed at his chest and pulled down your dress when you thought the neighbors would start getting suspicious of the unfamiliar ‘73 Chevelle Malibu with the clouded windows outside their house. “Look, Steve, I gotta go. Drive safe.” You tugged at the door handle but he stopped you before you could get out, pulling you back into an attack of fervent kisses. “Steve!”

“Look, I’m staying at that Motel Court on Birchwood, Room 174. I want you to call me in the morning.”

“I thought you were just passing through...” You groaned as you pushed at his wandering hands again, trying to keep from giving him the pleasure of making you breathless.

“I am, but we can get breakfast or something? Shit, you’ll probably be passed out until noon so it’ll be lunch.” He finally let you pull away and you could see how his hair sat rugged from your needy gripping, a winded look splayed across his face. He looked around for an old receipt and pen and scribbled the name and room number of the motel on the back. He buried the sheet in your palm and you hesitated before accepting it. You reached for the handle again and he didn’t stop you as you stepped onto the sidewalk, only leaning over the seat and throwing you a wink. “You’ll call me, won’t you?”

You leaned into the frame so you could get one more look at his pretty face. “I’ll be up by 11… I’ll catch ya later.” You shut the door before anything else could be said and dragged yourself home.

After talking and teasing him at Kitty’s Diner the next morning, you let Steve take you back to his room where you got hot and heavy the rest of the day. You caught a case of Deja Vu when he dropped you off in the early hours of the morning again. You couldn’t hide your amusement when he said he planned to stay in town. “Just a little bit longer,” he professed. Steve had his arm around you as he pulled you towards him, almost tugging you into his seat. He wouldn’t say it but you had understood that he was enjoying himself too much to leave at the moment.

You spent the next five days in his motel room between your shifts at work, enjoying his body between listening to his stories and sharing your own. Mel had needed so much time to pack her life up for her return to college that you didn’t think she even took note of your absence around her place. You didn’t mind it though. He had been busy telling you about all the national parks he had stopped for and the best foods he’d tasted at 24-hour diners across the country. You’d mention your job at the beauty parlor down the street and your hope to travel cross-country yourself. He made even the bad parts of being on the road sound like an escape from your reality. You would talk about Led Zeppelin and Fleetwood Mac and write down music recommendations to keep an ear out for on the radio. One day he pulled out a little book and a set of pencils as you laid naked and fatigued in the tangled sheets. He kept looking up at you as he scratched into the page. After keeping his head buried in the book for half an hour, he joined you on the bed and showed you the drawing he was working on. It was you in all your bare glory. After your face had run hot and asked if you could keep it, he didn’t hesitate to kiss his way down to your wanting body. He was over six years your elder, and it was clear that he had prior experience with female anatomy, not that you minded.

He was a man of passion in many ways. Between finding new reasons to hold you a little closer to him, he would talk about his favorite novels and the literary techniques of authors like Kurt Vonnegut. He knew so much about a world that you had barely seen, and it would have been difficult for any ordinary woman to resist the combination of his charm, good looks, and intelligence.

Every hour you spent with him only further suspended your disbelief that he was truly living in your presence. You were happy that he spoke toy you on Brian’s rundown couch that first night, and after a week of finding entertainment in one another, you help him pack up the trunk of his car with what little he had traveled with. Even though you were enamored, you weren’t stupid; he had been sweet on you, but you were sure he had a trail of women he must have left behind before crossing every state border. How could a man like him not? It made your chest tighten more than you cared to admit. A week after the party, he was dropping you off for the final time.

His lips worked slowly against your neck as you sat back in the passenger seat, enjoy the last moments of his attention before he became nothing more than a memory, “I’m sure that you’ll have a new gal by the time you get to California, but will you give me a ring when you’ve settled anyways,” you moaned into his ear.

Steve pulled his head back to get a clear look at you as if he’d sobered from his lustful haze. He relaxed back into his seat and ran his hand through his messy mop with a heavy sigh. You were sure you’d killed the moment before he spoke up. “What would you say if I wanted you to come with me?”

“What?”

“I wasn’t messing around when I said you deserved better than Arkansas. You were born here but you don’t have to spend your whole life here.” Your mind was moving rapidly but you could barely focus on a single thought. “I think I’m in love with you. If you can come to California, you can keep doing hair, you can finish your degree, anything you want.” By the time he finished, only silence sat between you and he fidgeted with his keys. He waited for your response and only got more nervous when you didn’t have one. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything, doll. I’m s-”

“I’ll come with you,” you said.

The words took a minute to settle before he could laugh out a sigh of relief. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Stevie. I… I think I love you too. I wanna go with you.”

He pulled you back against him and toyed with the ends of your hair. “God, you’ve made me the happiest man alive, baby. I don’t think I could have left without you.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to.” You kissed at his beard and stroked his cheek. “I need to start packing if we’re leaving in the morning.”

“Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?”

“No, just... Just give me 15 minutes and I’ll be fine. I can go back to the room with you and we’ll be good to go in the morning.” You knew there wasn’t much to be gathered in your room. Just some clothes for warmer weather and books. You’d grab your cosmetology kit, some family photos, and some cash that you’d hid before your mom could notice in her drunken stupor. There wasn’t much worth salvaging from your current way of living. “I’ll call Mel later and tell her I’m leaving. She can tell the salon that I won’t be in for my shifts next week.”

“I can wait out here for you unless you need help.”

“No, just sit here and I’ll be back soon.” You kissed him one more time before exiting the car, walking with haste to get into the house.

When you walked inside, only the T.V. lit up the front room and it was if every step you took awoke the house. You were quick to pack your bag once you reached your room, grabbing for things that you decided were necessary in the heat of the moment. Once you cleared through your desk and closet, you pulled at a loose floorboard and grabbed the wad of bills you’d been saving for your semester tuition. Once you emptied your smugglers hold of some photos worth saving, you replaced the floorboard as if nothing were ever there.

“And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You nearly jumped out of your skin as you caught a look at the figure in your door frame.

“Didn’t know you were home yet. Thought you and Pierce were still out for the night.”

“When I come home I expect you to be here. Do you know what goddamn time is?” Your mother was not and never had been a happy drunk, and when her boyfriend would come around it only made things worse. She started to walk towards you as you stood from your crouched position, hiding the cash and photographs from her sight.

“I was with Melissa. She’s going back to school this week and I wanted to say goodbye to her.”

“Don’t you lie to me,” she seethed. You knew this would not be the easy getaway you had wanted. “You were probably out whoring around again.”

“I’m not going to let you talk to me like that. I just told you where I was,” you challenged. You walked to your bed and filed away the contraband into your bag knowing that it was the last of the important items you could grab before leaving.

“You probably think you’ve been real clever coming in after we’re every night, but I’ve fucking noticed. You’ve never been all that smart.” She had stumbled into your room and the smell of whiskey was so strong it made your nose burn.

You weren’t able to offer her a retort or a farewell before you heard more footsteps from down the hall. “What seems to be the problem here,” Pierce said. Drunk. They were both always drunk.

“Little Miss thinks that she can just whore herself out and then come home without consequences,” your mother announced.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving anyway.” You grabbed your bag and made an effort to quickly escape the room, pushing past Pierce in the doorway.

“Don’t you walk away from us, bitch!” Pierce’s shouting became incoherent hollers and you sped towards the living room, but you could hear her footsteps behind you.

By the time you could see the front door, you felt a tug on your hair so strong it nearly pulled you to the floor with a shriek. “You think you’re just gonna leave and move on, huh?” Your head throbbed as she raged in your ear. “You’re nothing and you’re worth nothing. Once you’re not useful for whoring anymore, you’ll end up in a ditch on the side of the road.”

You punched her in the face before she could see it coming, something you had only thought about doing to her in your wildest dreams, and it was enough to throw her to the floor. You took the chance to grab your bag and run outside without a care for your dignity or the grace of your departure. You could hear her screams from down the street and you knew that at any second, the neighbors would be looking to see what had happened.

You slammed the car door as soon as your foot was inside, startling Steve. “What the hell hap-”

“Just drive, Steve!” You all but shouted as your mom stepped onto the front lawn with blood dribbling down her chin. He didn’t need any further explanation as he put his foot on the pedal. Your mother was still screaming, that much you could hear, but her slurs were muffled as you flew past the house.

You hadn’t noticed a smudge of your mom’s blood on your knuckles until you got back to the room and you spent the next 10 minutes trying to scrub away the ghostly red specks. You couldn’t stand the feeling of it. Steve stood in the doorways with his arms across his chest the entire time. He didn’t look too thrilled about how everything played out but didn’t say anything about it.

“My mom and her boyfriend were home and fucking wasted. I didn’t even know until she came in screaming at me, calling me a whore and stuff.” He walked up to you as you dried your hands on an off-white towel. “Sad to say that’s not really an unusual encounter.”

“Are you gonna be okay, doll?” He looked concerned, maybe even a little angry for you, but the furrow of his brow did little to extinguish your distress. You just wanted him slightly closer and you held faith that he could obliterate the memory of this night.

“I’m fine... I just think that the sooner we get out of here, the better.”

“We’ll be gone before the sun even rises. Let's just get a couple hours of sleep and then we’ll be on the road.” He drew you nearer to him and you nodded as you looked past through him. “This will all be behind us in a couple of hours.”

He bent down for a kiss and you readily gave into him. In so little time he had made you feel alive. He made you feel wanted. You had so little in the world — your mom was a drunk and your father had long hit the road; you were low on friends and even lower on funds — and now you had even less. You were about to take any sense of stability that was left in your life and chuck it out the window in the morning. But it didn’t matter because even one more day with Steve would make you feel more alive and more loved than you had known in your entire life.

His mouth became eager and he pulled you even closer, working his way to your chest and down your stomach as his hand wandered up your skirt. Before you could think of touching him, he had you lifted over his shoulder with a squeal. He said nothing as he moved smoothly across the room and dropped you on the bed, casting himself over you. You tried to caress him, but he quickly pinned your hands under his and he sucked at your neck. You had transformed into a puddle of moans in no time.

“Please Stevie,” you choked out. You ground your hips against his jeans but the friction wasn’t enough.

“Please what, doll?” He reached between your legs and knew he could feel how wet you were. “You’re gonna have to use your words for me, baby.”

“Please… I need you inside of me.” You squirmed in hopes to pull your hand from his grip but it was pointless. You think he got harder just feeling you struggle under him.

“That's all you had to say,” he whispered in your ear and gave you a carnal kiss against the lobe. He shifted his weight to sit up as he pulled his shirt over his head. You didn’t have more than a moment you gawk at him before he was roughly pushing your skirt over your hips. All it took was him unzipping his jeans and he drove his cock all the way inside of you. You couldn’t find a sound to make as all of the wind was knocked from your lungs.

By the time you could find your voice, he was thrusting into you at a savage pace. You cried out in complete ecstasy and he held you down; your brain felt like it was turning to mush. He growled for you to open your eyes so he could so much you loved his cock and he looked back at you with something that could only be described as darkness. It was immoral and wicked, but you couldn’t find the will to care as the man above you grabbed you like he owned you and fucked you to oblivion.

He hissed as you came around him the first time but you knew he was not done with you. He didn’t let up on his strokes until he was mirroring your moans and he never looked away from your flustered face. One of his hands began loosely circling your throat as you clenched around him again and you could feel him throb as he came inside of you. With a grunt, he pulled out and let his hot cum escape your body onto the sheets. He let his weight fall to the bed without ever letting go, and you laid on his chest in post-coital bliss. If you could choose one moment in your life to relive, you were sure it would be this one, time and time again.

“Glad to know you can keep up,” you choked out jokingly. You felt his chest vibrate with laughter as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Always, doll. We’re only getting started.”

A heavy knock on the door had broken the silence. Steve cursed under his breath as he zipped up his pants, and he placed you back on the bed. He took his time walking to the door but it was clear that the person on the other side was growing inpatient. He looked through the peephole and cursed again before turning away. He unconsciously ground his death with his furrowed brow.

“Who is it,” you asked, trying to keep your fear at bay.

He pointed at you with a stern look and a firmer tone. “Stay right there. Don’t say anything.” Before you could ask him what was happening, he undid the chain door lock and pulled it ajar, just enough to let the unwanted visitor see his face. “What do you want, man?”

“Where the fuck is she?” Pierce. It was Pierce and you could tell he was still drunk.

“Look, I don’t know what fucking drugs your own, but if you start beating on my door again I’m gonna beat your face in,” Steve fumed. Your jaw dropped as you listened in on the conversation; you’d never heard him talk light that before. He was always the type to open the door for you and smother you with pet names. He tried to close the door but you jumped at the sound of it slamming into the wall as Pierce threw all his weight onto it. He was bursting into the room before Steve could catch him and your blood ran cold as he saw you on the bed.

“Your mother's right. You’re just some lying, ungrateful whore.” His grip on your shoulder was sudden and he threw you to the floor. Your vision was spotty but you had other things you needed to worry about. “Only God knows how bad she’s gonna beat you for busting her nose like that.”

You heard a loud crack as Steve’s fist met Pierce’s face and you grabbed at the bed, trying to gain your footing. Everything was still a little blurred at the edges, but you could see as Pierce pulled Steve to the floor with him. As they threw punches and swore for each other's misfortune, you could only clearly make out the dark blood dripping from Pierce’s mouth onto Steve as he gained an edge over him, swinging at his face a couple more times.

You looked around the room for something, anything to make them stop, but Steve had already taken most things to the car. You could hear Steve grunt as Pierce attempted to bash his face in. He had only tried to help you and now he was paying for it. That’s when you saw it. A butterfly knife sitting on the side table next to the cigarette dish and Steve’s wallet. You didn’t hesitate to grab it and before you could even understand the consequences of your actions, you plunged the blade between Pierce’s shoulder blades.

He dropped to the floor without hesitation as he howled in pain. “You fucking bitch!” He sounded like a wounded dog as he sprawled on the floor, and you could only watch with wide eyes. God, what had you done...

Steve pulled himself from the floor and every breath he took was heavier than the last. He had missed most of his opponent’s drunken punches, but his lip was busted and he was rattled by the brawl. He looked crazed, and as he rose to his full stature, he moved to stand over Pierce who could do nothing but cry out in the fetal position. The knife was still wedged in his back.

You ran to Steve and cried as you tugged on his arm. “Steve, I don’t… I don’t know how he found us,” you choked out between heavy tears. “He must have seen the car.”

Steve said nothing. He didn’t even look at you, and that’s what scared you the most. His neck and back were tense and your touch wouldn’t be enough to soothe him. In erratic movement, Steve reached down and pulled the knife from between Pierce’s shoulder blade with a grunt. You gasped as Pierce choked out a sob. He shook in pain, blood puddling onto the carpet under him.

It was like a nightmare. Steve crouched over Pierce, looking into the old drunk’s soul as he squeezed the knife in his hands. You wish you had done something, wish you had said anything. With hasty slash and a depraved glower, Steve slit Pierce’s throat and you couldn’t turn fast enough to not see it.

Blood. Blood poured out Pierce’s wound like a broken fire hose, pooling at your feet while it splattered on Steve’s face and chest. For only a moment, Pierce sounded like he was choking, and then there was no more. No more cries, no more movement. It was just you and Steve standing over a corpse. Everything felt frozen in time as the room reached an eerie stillness that could be described only as insidious.

Steve was the first to move. He stumbled to the bathroom and threw the knife in the sink, letting the faucet run until the steaming water cleansed the weapon of blood. He bent over the sink and he watched it with morbid fascination.

You stumbled towards him, knowing that you couldn’t look at the body on the floor or you’d lose the last ounce of your sanity. It was only when Steve looked at you over his shoulder, the craze in his stare having vanished, that bile rose in your throat. You bent over the toilet and released everything you had ate during the day and maybe a little more. You could hear the sink faucet still running but Steve moved to your side.

“Doll-”

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Stevie,” you sobbed. His arm wrapped around your waist as his forehead fell to you back. Exactly where you stabbed Pierce. You flinched at the thought and Steve pulled back.

“Listen to me, okay?” He pulled you away from the toilet and directed you to look at him. There was blood all over his hands and on his torso. “Everything is fine.”

“He’s fucking dead.”

“I know, baby. But we had to do it”

“How are we gonna-”

“You don’t need to worry about that alright?” You nodded but it was a lie. You could do nothing but worry. “You’re gonna get in the shower. I’ll join you in just a second, but you’ve got blood all over your legs and I need you to get cleaned up right now.” You looked towards the ground and noticed that your feet were painted red; a trail of bloody footsteps led into the bathroom. “I need you to tell me you can do that for me.”

You took a breath in and tried to control the cry building in your throat. “I can do that.” You began taking off your clothes, looking for any bloodstains on the fabric only to be surprised when you saw none. You felt like you were covered in blood; there must have been a spot hiding somewhere. Steve had left the room when the saw you step inside the porcelain tub and you tried not to think about what he was doing in the other room. You let the lukewarm water run down your head and trickle down to your feet as you closed your eyes, willing you consciousness to hold on just a little bit longer.

Steve returned to the bathroom faster than you thought he would and was quick to strip his jeans and boxers. You could hear the curtain slide open as he joined behind you, pushing himself under the stream alongside you. He kissed at your shoulders and cheeks, as to tell you he had taken care of everything, and he scrubbed the crimson from his chest. You could only watch with a haunted expression as it all disappear down the drain. He turned off the water after he scrubbed both of your bodies to a level of cleanliness that you probably hadn’t reached in months. You threw on the clothes you had stepped out to close to the present and you felt dirty all over again. Steve must have retrieved his shirt from the bedroom earlier because he now looked like the version of himself from an hour back when he had nothing on his mind but loving you. Your sandals sat in the corner of the bathroom for you to toe on. When you fastened them both on at the heels, he opened the bathroom and your eyes snapped shut. You couldn’t see it again.

“You don’t need to look,” he whispered to you. “I’ve got everything in the car already. I just need you to take my hand and we’ll never be back here again.” You could want nothing more right now.

You felt for his hand and his calloused fingers wove between yours. He tugged you out of the bathroom and you could feel him navigate you through the mess you had both created. The irony stench of blood crowded your sense and you wished more than anything that you could protect him from having to see the sins that had been committed on this night. The layout of the room would be drilled in your mind forever and you were sure he wouldn’t forget either. Only when you heard him shut the room door behind you could you find the will to open your eyes but you never let go of his hand.

He put you in the car and got in on the driver's side, but he said nothing as he started the car and pulled out of the motel parking lot. You could feel it; the body was still in that room, soaking up a pool of blood. As you watched the hazy lights on the town dim in the dreary night, you got on the highway and knew that you would never see Arkansas again.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark! steve #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #dark!marvel #dark!steve x reader #stever rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #dark!steve #dark!steve rogers imagine #dark!steve rogers one shot

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penaltbox · 4 years

Text

mistakes we make - alex turcotte

Word Count: 2.2k

I looooved this request and I loved writing this one!! If you like it please let me know!

The two pink lines stare up at you, seeming to mock the fact that this was your life now. How on earth were you supposed to raise a baby while you were in college? Your parents would probably help however they could, but that wouldn’t even be the hardest part.

You didn’t have to guess who the father was, even though you were barely official. You and Alex had been messing around for months now and a few weeks ago he said he wasn’t seeing or talking to anyone else and it had been that way for a while on his part. You on the other hand had been head over heels since the first time you kissed him.

You let a hand rest on your stomach, the worry setting in so fast that you almost missed the excitement. You had always wanted to be a mom one day. Of course, you figured it wouldn’t be until way later when you were married and everything, but maybe this was somehow a good thing. Maybe there was some silver lining with all this.

Or maybe that silver lining would be destroyed two days later. The news doesn’t even come from Alex, but instead from a tweet that some LA sports reporter sends out, tagging Alex in it. He signed with the Kings and he wasn’t coming back to Wisconsin the following year.

The following year... when you’d have a baby and would be continuing your education at your dream school. The panic sets in even harder then and you wonder when you should even tell Alex.

It wasn’t the right time or the right place, and you probably weren’t even the right people for each other. But now there was a tiny human relying on you and that made all your decisions that much more important.

You finally swallow your pride, decide you’re keeping the baby regardless, and figure you have to go tell him as soon as possible. He deserved to know, even if he was probably busy with NHL stuff. Half of this was on him.

You pick up your phone and send him a quick text, not trusting your voice, ‘can you stop over today?’

You watch the screen, hoping he’ll reply quickly. He was usually pretty good about these things and you knew he always had his phone in his hand. Except today for some reason he’s not texting you back, so you get up with a huff and start to clean your room to try and keep your mind busy.

Alex busting through your door catches your attention and he throws his hands up, “did you not see my text? You can’t say something like that and then not respond! I thought you were dead or something.”

Your eyes go wide and you grab your phone, noticing a handful of texts and one missed call from the boy standing across the room. You give him a bashful smile and walk over to him.

“I’m really sorry, Al,” you apologize, “I’m not dead though, if that’s any condolence.”

He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to kiss you gently, “I’m really glad but you scared me.”

You try and smile at him then, knowing he’d be seriously scared in a minute. You both had news to deliver and neither was good. He’s the first to sigh, his demeanor softening as he kisses your forehead.

“I have something I need to tell you... and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,” he starts, cupping your cheek, “I’m signing with the Kings this week. They want me to move up for the rest of the season.”

You knew this was coming, but it still hurts your heart to hear it from him. There’s a helplessness that washes over you then and you swallow hard. You nod, knowing you had to spill your news next. Both your lives were about to change forever.

“You okay?” He asks, hugging you tight against his chest, “I’m sorry, I really am. If I could take you with me I would, but I know you love it here.”

You bite your lip and realize you have to just tell him. You can’t waste any more time and you’d have to rip the bandaid off to get this over with.

“Alex,” you say hesitantly, forcing yourself to look up at him, “I need to tell you something.”

He frowns a little, “oh? Go ahead.”

With one last deep breath you put it out into the world, “I’m pregnant.”

Alex’s arms immediately loosen and drop as he takes a step back from you. Your heart sinks and you try to swallow around the lump that’s growing quickly in your throat. He’s shaking his head as all the color drains from his face.

“No, come on. You’re not... what? No way. Is this a joke? Are you mad because I’m leaving?” He says, trying to keep himself as calm as possible.

“I’m being really serious right now,” you whisper, crossing your arms tight to try and feel like you were holding yourself together.

Alex runs a hand through his hair, nervously biting his bottom lip. He mumbles out a couple swear words before he seems to burst, loudly saying, “stop, this isn’t funny!”

“I’m not trying to be funny! This isn’t some fucking joke to try and get you to stay! I know you’re gone after this week and it’s scaring the shit out of me,” you retaliate, not expecting him to lash out the way he was.

“No, no,” he laughs a little, his mood shifting in an instant, “this is bullshit. Are you trapping me? Why are you telling me today?”

You feel your blood boil at his accusation, “fuck you, Alex. I would never trap you. What is wrong with you? This isn’t a joke and before you even accuse me of anything else, you know it’s your kid. You know damn well it is.”

“I don’t believe this. There’s no way you happen to be pregnant the same day I sign my NHL contract,” he says, crossing his arms.

You clench your jaw, trying to compose yourself a little, “Alex, listen to me. I have no reason to trap you when I already had you. But if you’re going to sit here and accuse me of something like this then you can get the fuck out and never talk to me again.”

“I don’t have time for a baby. I have to move to California and play hockey,” he says with a shrug, like it’s just that simple. Like this is just some joke you decided to pull on him today and he’s not in the mood for it.

“Then go. I don’t need you.”

He stands there for a moment, seeming to think things over. Finally he sighs and heads for the door, leaving without another word. As soon as the door clicks shut you lose all composure, the tears coming so fast you can’t stand up any longer and you have to focus on breathing.

You let yourself cry on your floor for what feels like hours. The last thing you had ever expected was for Alex to balk on the responsibility and walk out the way he did. When you finally wipe your face off you look down, rubbing a hand over your still flat stomach.

“I’ve got you, okay? I’ll make sure you’re safe,” you whisper, though you know the baby can’t hear. But it’s a promise just as much to them as it is to yourself.

And it’s a promise you keep. You knock your grades out of the park that semester and take a couple summer classes to get ahead. Your parents surprisingly don’t murder you, especially once they hear that Alex walked off with no mention of helping. Things go better than you expect them to and the little boy you have ends up being everything you never knew you needed.

When Alex comes back to town after the following season, you have no idea. You cut ties, blocked him on everything, and moved on as much as you could. You still saw the boys in town sometimes and most of them had even met the baby.

At five months old, he was really developing a personality. He smiled so much and was so good natured. His dark hair and the dimples that were almost always present on his little face made your heart ache almost every time you looked at him. He was nothing but a tiny copy of Alex.

Alex rings Cole and Owen as soon as he comes back to Madison in May. The boys stayed over for a training session in early summer and they were more than happy to have Alex visit. Alex agrees to meet them at one of the restaurants on State Street to kick off their little reunion.

It starts off normal and fine, but Owen cracks eventually. He’d seen the baby more times than anyone else and had a bit of a soft spot for the whole situation. He sighs and looks across the table at Alex, letting the question drop.

“Have you reached out at all? Have you heard about the baby?”

Alex’s eyes flick over to Owen quickly, his jaw clenching at the inquiry. Owen knew damn well that Alex hadn’t tried to contact you. Alex crosses his arms as a pissed off look comes over his face.

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Lindy. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Alex scoffs, shaking his head. The truth was, he’d avoided even thinking about it all. He hadn’t reacted the way he wished he would have but he got the message that you really wanted nothing to do with him when he found he was blocked on everything.

“So you’ve never even seen him then?” Cole asks, not thinking twice about the phrase.

Alex’s ears perk up though, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table, “him? It was a boy?”

The two across from him nod and Alex finds himself thinking about it suddenly. How old was he? What was he like? Who did he look like? He starts to stomp the idea down, knowing he’d messed up too much to even consider reaching out now.

Owen fiddles with his phone, pulling something up. He hands it over to Alex and it puts everything to a halt in his life. He looks down at the screen and sees the little boy in your arms as the video plays. You’re both smiling and he knows it was taken on campus recently.

The baby has a Wisconsin shirt on and a dimpled smile with big brown eyes that Alex is all too familiar with. You look so happy as you lift the little boy up and bring him back down to kiss his cheek. Alex can tell you’re a great mom just from the short video and he watches it a few times over as he tries to commit it to memory. It’s the first time he’s ever seen his own kid.

“Holy shit,” Alex whispers, setting the phone down and putting his head in his hands. He feels sick suddenly and too hot despite the nice breeze that’s flowing through town.

“Turcs, are you okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out,” Cole speaks up, a worried look on his face.

“That’s my-,” Alex mumbles, stopping to take a deep breath, “that’s my fucking kid. I bailed on them.”

The other two boys glance at each other, not having expected this reaction. The way Alex had always approached the situation was from a place of detest. He figured you were lying because of him signing his contract. He swore it was a set up to get you locked in to whatever he’d be earning. He’d never been more wrong in his life though.

That little boy was the spitting image of him and no one could deny that. He knew at least a hundred pictures at his parents house that looked just like the little guy he’d been shown. He feels a lump in his throat as he picks the phone up again and goes through your Instagram, the one he’d been blocked from seeing.

There’s so many pictures of the baby and he can’t pull his eyes off the page. He scrolls and scrolls until he gets back to before the baby was born. There’s still a picture up of you and him. He taps it and the memories from that night come flooding back. You’d all gone out and you two had been inseparable, just like you always were. He knows exactly what the caption used to be below the photo, but it’s different now. You’d changed it at some point over the last year and now it makes him want to cry.

‘Always my favorite’

Alex looks at his friends, a sudden urge to fix things running through him. He had messed up so much and somehow you still left that up. You still let people know he had meant so much to you. He couldn’t let this go any longer. He had to make things right.

“I need your help, you guys. I need to meet my baby.”

#alex turcotte #mine #my writing #los angeles kings #la kings #wisconsin hockey #hockey fic #hockey writing #baby fever

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vsterolson · 4 years

Text

Hi hello! I’m Bee! I never know what to say in the intros so here’s the basics: I use she/her pronouns, I’m 23, I live in the EST, I’m not currently working so I’m sure I’ll be around a lot if I’m not sucked into my rewatch of Grays anatomy too much. my discord is big miss steak#9778 if you prefer to chat and plot on there. Now onto Aster!

tw: miscarriage mention, cancer mention, death mention

[ cis woman, she/her, benedetta gargari , twenty-three ] i can’t be sure, but i think i just saw ASTER OLSON drive onto the parkway. don’t they know we’re not supposed to be driving on that haunted road right now? maybe it has to do with the fact that they’re so +GREGARIOUS and -RASH that makes them feel SHAKEN about everything going on. i guess we could also chalk it up to the fact that they’re always reminding me of CRACKED LIPS COATED IN CRIMSON LIPSTICK, CRUSHED VELVET DRESSES PAIRED WITH BEAT UP DOCS, A COLLECTION OF HALF DRANK TEA COVERING THE COFFEE TABLE. either way, i hope they get back safely.

Aster is Reed born and breed. She came into the world the hospital just ten minutes from the house she would learn how to walk and talk and sing joyfully off tune. Where she’d learned that love wasn’t always spoken but shown in the tenderness of cleaning up a scraped knee and making sure your favorite snacks are always in the pantry and finding time to read your child bedtime stories even if it’s over the phone because your shift went long.

Aster learned a lot about heart growing up, but not always what to do with it. She saw her parents love and fight with equal passion. Even when their marriage fell apart she couldn’t even be mad because she saw them fight so hard for it.

Growing up she was one of those kids that made witches brew out of mud and sticks and acorns and any other odds and ends she found during recess and always invited the kids sitting alone to help. And she always brought her classmates a cupcake on their birthday even if she didn’t know them because everyone deserves to be celebrated on their birthday. And freshman she went through a phase of writing secret admirer notes to just leave in random lockers so for just one moment they would feel like they were worth admiring even if she was taking the risk of inflating someone’s ego.

Aster is an empath through and through and has made it a very bad habit to run herself dry to keep everyone afloat. Unlike her parents she never learned when to give up the fight and walk away.

Her fierce tenderness was tested junior year of high school when her mother got sick. The big C. But after all those nights of barely sleeping in hospitals, Aster knew there was a place for her and her big dumb always caring heart. She knew she had to go into medicine. Her mom didn’t make it, but maybe Aster could help other people’s moms make it.

She was a little harder after her mom passed, a little colder. Or at least she tried to be. She didn’t want to feel like this tragic person with eyes like broken faucets, but she didn’t know how to fix the plumbing so she tried just freezing the water. But then the empty aching of running from herself set in so eventually she just had to let the water run till a dry season came along. It took about six months, but eventually she could hold herself together and her and her big heart moved along.

Then college came and she was determined to have it all, the tv worthy college experience. Freshman year she joined everything she could till she was properly burnt out and realized that premed was going to take a lot more of her attention and she got much more studious.

Then came senior year and the first time she let herself be selfish. Somehow her TA position got a little blurry and despite being madly in love with her boyfriend at the time she kept finding herself tangled up in her professor’s sheets. The guilt was heavy but soon she got even heavier. Before she knew it she was late for her period and there were little pink lines on a stick and her life was quickly changing.

While flooded with panic and guilt she was also thrilled. She always wanted to be a mom, more than almost anything. But before she could even figure out whose it was, she lost it.

The depression was almost as heavy as when her mom passed and she only had a few weeks with the new future she was creating for herself. Accept now she couldn’t even talk about it. Not until her ex best friend dragged it out of her. Finally some relief until her ex best friend turned on her for her own gain and blasted her business for a gossip column.

This wrecked everything, Aster lost her scholarship and ended up dropping out with a semester left to go. She also lost the love of her life. The whole incident turned her quite bitter, the bright eyed tender hearted girl was taking time off and left way the cold girl she tried to play the part of in high school.

Now she works at dana’s dinner and lives in her childhood home that her mom left her. She’s learning how to be warm again, that it’s ok to trust people. That there is value in being vulnerable and tender and having a big stupid always caring heart is a gift and not just something people will take advantage of.

As she was figuring her life out she reflected back on her mom’s time in the hospital and realized she wouldn’t have made it through without the nurses. So now she’s starting nursing school to give that heart of hers a purpose.

As for how she’s holding up with the disappearances. It’s hard for her. Being such a big feeler she can barely stand to have the news on, but that doesn’t stop her from hearing the gruesome details. Towns like this thrive on gossip and the dinner is not the place to avoid it. Everything is feeling very heavy these days so if you see her eyes red as she’s serving you coffee don’t mention it.

She does feel a bit guilty for how emotional she’s gotten because of it, none of her loved ones have been harmed, but there are people hurting, this town is hurting and there’s no one to fix it. This sort of thing really troubles her. All she can do is bring baked goods to those in morning and offer a shoulder to cry on or ears to listen, but it doesn’t seem enough.

Even worse, she can’t help but be consumed with the fear that it could be her father on the news next. She calls him everyday, sometimes twice. He’s very stubborn and she knows he does a lot of business out of town.

random facts:

she has two rescued cats. An all black cat named zelda and a calico mix named luna

she has a vast tea collection because its good for the soul and its also rude to not offer guests a warm beverage so she has to be prepared for whatever they might like

she thrifts almost all of her clothes and is like a magnet for the good stuff. Her wardrobe consists of lots of crushed velvet and silky lacy things and of course an abundance of sweaters and flannels.

She’s very bad at finishing projects. She’s pretty bad at finishing almost anything actually. Her apartment is filled with half knit scarfs, books with only chapters to finish but will never be opened again, unfinished drinks growing mold.

She has a scar on her ribs from a bicycle ride gone wrong as a kid when she was caught by the sharp branches of a fallen tree

she hates to text, she will call just to answer a simple question.

connection ideas:

childhood friends

her ex from college - if you like lots of angst this is the one for you

other exes

fwbs - even better if theres feelings they’re refusing to admit

ride or dies

coworkers

other nursing students or people that work at the hospital she might know from volunteering

after the incident in college she kind of went through a party phase so maybe people she partied with

#parkway.intro #miscarriage tw #cancer tw #death tw #and the mess is here

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birlcholtz · 4 years

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Bittydex??? (Also your bitty/holster and bittyrans hcs were works of art)

omg. the baking duo. i don’t think i’ve ever like seriously thought about them but NOW I AM AND I LOVE IT HERE GOES

dex is originally wary of bitty for a lot of reasons but a big one is that bitty is openly gay and cute and thus firmly jeopardizes dex’s ability to stay closeted/repress everything for his entire time in college. oh boy.

but of course, eventually he’s like y’know what fuck it whatever bitty’s cool i can do this

and as he gets to know bitty, it’s almost laughable how different they are, but dex eventually kind of internalizes the correlation between baking and being openly gay (for bitty) as a kind of... causation? like, maybe he can get more confident about himself if he embraces baking too. is this good logic? i actually have no idea dex is tired let him live

so anyway that’s what has him, only about a month into his first semester (listen everyone on the team is so goddamn supportive of bitty and dex sees how much he loves being here and!! he wants that too!!! so yes he gives up on the whole ‘repress’ thing very fast), poking his head into the kitchen when he hears bitty opening and closing the fridge in a pattern that means he’s getting out ingredients and asking if he wants help

bitty is all in favor of literally anything dex does that isn’t fighting with nursey and he’s also glad that dex is seeking him out, because come on bitty has heard from nursey about the adventure with the samwell republicans sticker and even though it’s gone now he can’t help being a little concerned?

so dex asking if he can help with the baking is good for both of them honestly

bitty immediately sets him to cutting up fruit and they talk a bit as they work but mostly it’s just kind of a comfortable quiet (not silence because bitty’s got some music playing, but quiet is different entirely)

bitty eventually finds out through some subtle comments on dex’s part that his family is absolutely rampant with toxic masculinity and homophobia and that for dex, literally baking in and of itself, not just slice and bake cookies but actually baking something from scratch and spending time in the kitchen willingly, is an act of rebellion

it’s a lot easier for dex to find out that bitty’s relationship with his parents is a tiny bit strained because he’s not out at home, because bitty talks about his mother so much that it’s easy to infer. sometimes he tells dex about something his father did that his mother told him about. he never seems to talk to his father though

so baking becomes a kind of... alliance, i guess? the two of them are united. bitty does have his suspicions about why, perhaps, dex is so keen on getting to know bitty in particular-- his comments about the homophobia in his family make bitty even more suspicious-- but he doesn’t say anything. that’s not for him to ask about.

(chowder and nursey know that dex bakes with bitty a lot. chowder is glad because it means the baked goods get produced faster and he’s also glad that dex is spending time with bitty because he always seems more relaxed afterwards and it really does help stop him and nursey from fighting. nursey is intrigued because he’d thought after taddy tour (and after the first couple weeks of their first year) that dex would avoid bitty like the plague. he’s curious enough to accept that maybe dex has hidden depths. that also helps with the fighting.)

when they go home for winter break, dex and bitty agree to contact each other if they need to vent or just talk to someone they can relax around. neither of them has any legit emergencies, but they do text a lot and call each other a few times. bitty sends a picture of a pie, dex responds with ‘god i wish it’s so weird not being in the kitchen all the time. my brother gives me weird looks’ and bitty immediately starts compiling recipes for them to make as soon as they’re back at samwell

dex fixes the oven for the first time of many and bitty is so thrilled that he just kind of throws his arms around dex, who freezes for a second before letting himself hug bitty too (honestly i don’t remember if this happens before or after winter break but either way. same thing applies)

and in spring semester dex becomes fully aware that he has a problem. which is that spending time in the kitchen has changed from a hope that it’ll help him feel able to be more open to just wanting to see bitty, and be around bitty, and hear bitty’s voice and the casual endearments he throws around like they’re nothing and the way he puts a tense hand on dex’s arm while they’re both watching the oven to see if it’s going to actually preheat, and his smile and compliments when dex does something right and the way he flicks water at dex right after he washes his hands to get him to laugh, and the way he slides on oven mitts with the same calm efficiency that he steps onto the ice for warmups and dex is fucked. okay?? he’s fucked. the whole reason he’d been wary of bitty in the beginning was because he was worried about falling for him and guess what??? he did

but at the same time, dex can’t make himself shove it down. he’s still not out at samwell, but he’s getting to a point where he feels like he might be comfortable with that. bitty is probably tied with chowder for being his closest friend. dex can’t find it in himself to push all of that away.

as for bitty, he’s gone from being pleasantly surprised that dex is a fairly quick learner in the kitchen to looking forward to baking with him. dex always relaxes when he’s there, and bitty is sure that dex doesn’t know this, but he’s beautiful when he’s not so goddamn stressed. but at the same time, bitty knows dex is Going Through It with regards to sexuality-- he’s gone from being suspicious that maybe dex isn’t straight to knowing it but still waiting for dex to say something himself. so he keeps those thoughts to himself but it’s nice to see dex smile. especially when bitty knows he caused that

also dex keeps fixing the oven over and over and bitty knows that dex bakes a lot too so like. he has selfish reasons to fix the oven? but dex will LEAP to fix the oven if something is wrong with it and when he figures it out he always gives bitty this relieved smile that bitty is finding makes him increasingly flustered.

in the midst of all of this, dex is consulting with the upperclassmen about the best kind of oven to get bitty for his birthday. it’s a little over a month away, but between jack, ransom, and dex, they’re probably going to be incredibly overprepared because it’s what they do

in early april, dex pushes a bowl of sliced cherries over to bitty and says, ‘i’m gay.’ and bitty leaves the cherries where they are and hugs dex as tightly as he can, because he knows how long it’s taken dex to be ready to say that and he knows that in not very long, they’re both going home to places where they don’t know if they can ever say that

they stand there like that for a while, and dex doesn’t cry, but he almost does, and that’s when he says, okay, let’s bake this pie. and bitty agrees. (when it’s cooled, they eat almost half of it themselves before telling anyone else there’s pie)

baking together feels just a tiny bit different after that. not bad-- not bad at all. just a bit different. dex coming out changes their dynamic a little, because it means bitty finally lets himself acknowledge that he’s kind of got a huge crush on him, and then bitty basically can’t stop the endearments from coming out of his mouth. he tries to keep it to things he also says to the rest of the team-- mostly ‘hon’ and such-- but dex catalogues every sweetheart that slips out, and he knows he blushes, and both of them can’t help but feel that they’re dancing around something

then bitty’s birthday arrives, and dex installs the oven as quickly as he can while still double- and triple-checking things, and he’s just standing up and packing his toolbox back up when bitty and nursey enter the kitchen, and dex can’t help but blush when bitty looks at him like he hung the moon

and then bitty hugs him and dex hugs him back so hard that bitty is lifted off of the ground, and the rest of the team looks at each other like are you seeing this too??? because literally none of them noticed anything except that dex likes baking almost as much as bitty does. nobody realized there might be another reason lol

and both of them, independently, think that this might be the moment. but then the moment passes, and then they’re taking finals and getting ready to go home for the summer, and dex and bitty make the same promise they did over winter break but there’s more of a sense of urgency about it.

at first, they call each other once a week, just to keep up. bitty learns dex has taken to hanging out with his high school sort of-girlfriend, who’s got super short hair now and introduces him to hayley kiyoko’s music, and his family probably thinks they’re dating again but mostly they just wander around when neither of them has work, or they hang out in each other’s rooms (with the doors open, because of household rules). in july, she whispers to dex about her girlfriend in new hampshire and dex, that night when both of them are at home, texts her about his... well, bitty. whatever he and bitty are to each other (he also shows her a picture of bitty and she’s like oh he’s cute and dex is like yeah he really is)

the first person dex sees when he gets back to campus that august is chowder, who’s on his way to the haus after walking with farmer to the volleyball house. they’d been on the same flight back and have spent the whole last week together, along with plenty of other visits and trips with each other over the whole summer, and dex’s whole chest aches with how much he wants that. and yeah, it’s different for chowder and farmer, who live an hour away from each other in california and can see each other basically whenever they want, but chowder talks about how much his sisters love farmer and how their families got together for the 4th of july and dex aches.

they get to the haus, and everyone who’s arrived has congregated in the kitchen, where bitty is making a strawberry rhubarb pie dex has made with him at least five times. it’s second nature to come into the kitchen and head straight for the counter. bitty passes him the filling ingredients without a word, but with a smile, and keeps going. (the rest of the team trade looks)

but dex feels daring. all that talking to chowder about farmer has made him envious. so later, when most of the team is in the living room chatting about their summers and bitty’s headed upstairs to plug his phone in, dex slips out of the living room, heads upstairs, and knocks on bitty’s door. and bitty opens it and puts a hand on dex’s arm almost automatically when he asks how his summer was, and maybe that’s why dex feels bold enough to say, ‘it was okay. but i missed you.’

and bitty smiles softly at him and says, ‘i missed you too.’

the next time they’re watching the oven to make sure it preheats-- the new oven is actually functional, so it’s more habit than anything-- dex feels bitty’s hand slip into his own, and he immediately looks at bitty, who’s determinedly looking at the oven, and squeezes his hand. and then bitty looks at him, and dex can’t help but smile

some headcanons:

dex is a master of identifying when someone is aiming to check bitty during a game and immediately just. getting in their way. he’s very obstinate

does dex enable bitty’s procrastibaking? more than he wants to. he’s fully aware when he gives in that he probably shouldn’t, but it’s very hard to keep bitty from doing something he wants to do

bitty always brings dex tea or hot chocolate or a snack if he’s studying or fighting with java in the computer lab. the other compsci majors are very jealous

bitty is also a great sounding board for dex when he’s trying to figure out how to solve problems. explaining the problem to someone who doesn’t know anything about coding is a time-honored tactic of programmers everywhere and bitty is always willing to listen

winter trips to murder stop ‘n shop inevitably result in bitty walking as close to dex as is physically possible. (’it’s COLD’ ‘sure it is’)

the kitchen becomes the place where people can automatically find both of them. they’re just there all the time

flannel stealing? flannel stealing. they always find their way back into dex’s possession soon enough, but not before bitty’s worn them enough that they smell like him

lardo gives her dibs to nursey because dex basically lives at the haus already anyway. he does still wind up converting the basement into another room though because he needs a place where he can get work done and any room that bitty’s in isn’t conducive to that. yes it still has a steam shower because dex is extra as fuck

with regard to fining the rest of the team, they absolutely have a good cop/bad cop routine worked out. who is which depends on the day

chowder: bitty’s officially gone mad with power. dex: yeah i kinda like it. chowder: keep it in your pants

#bittydex #omgcp #fun with rarepairs

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1172

survey by pandaphant

Who's your favorite comedian? Sindhu Vee, probably. But that’s only counting the fact that I’ve only seen two of her skits. Out of all the acts I’ve seen, she’s the one who’s made me laugh the loudest so far, though.

Aren't you sick of all the *Are We Alike?* surveys? I’m not sick of them. I just think they’re too easy and fast to take so I like elaborating my answers so that I can still get a little ~reflective~ while taking that kind of survey.

Do you think there's anything you did better, when you were younger? Physical activities. I had a better stamina for jump roping and running when I was younger, and I was also a lot more flexible; I used to be able to bend all the way backwards and also have my toes reach my head while on my stomach.

Would you take the advice you give others? I usually don’t. I find that I’m better at giving advice than actually following through with them.

What did you have for lunch yesterday? I just had my leftover sushi. I didn’t want to eat all 24 that I ordered from the other night in one go, so I saved a little more than half of it for yesterday.

What's one thing that you would change about yourself physically? I’d go for the obvious and have my front teeth straightened, so I can finally stop feeling conscious about it.

What song has made you cry? Life Goes On by BTS.

How would you define success? Accomplishment of something for which I could be proud of myself.

Who was the craziest teacher you've ever had? Ironically, it was my Christianity teacher in grade school. Crazy old man who flipped out and humiliated students who didn’t bring their own box of crayons to school, and he also made me feel sexually violated when I encountered him shortly after my high school graduation.

Do you think the Earth will face an apocalypse one day? I don’t think so.

What's the last thing you got paid to do? Work.

What's the one thing you could eat everyday? Sushi.

What do you hate about yourself? How frugal I can be, especially towards myself. Buy yourself nice things sometimes, @robyn hahahaha

What's your favorite alcoholic drink? Long Island Iced Tea. Or tequila.

Are you hyper today? No, but I was yesterday for Bang Bang Con haha. It was my first BTS event as a new fan and I had so much fun :(

Does Bzoink need an upgrade? I don’t mind what it looks like now. I don’t think they ever changed it ever since I first started visiting the site in 2009 anyway, and I’ve already gotten used to the layout. It’s easy enough to navigate.

Do you have a Millsberry account? No. I’m not sure I even know what that is.

Do you have a Neopets account? I didn’t, but I had an offline Neopets game on one of my old phones that I liked to play as a kid.

What's your life philosophy? I don’t really follow a specific one and let it serve as a guide all my actions. I just do whatever I think is right and what would help both me and the people around me.

What was the last thing you talked to your friends about? Angela and I were just talking about BTS lol. She was the one who reeled me in :((

If you are interested in going out with someone, what do you do? I simply like staying physically close to them and doing nice things for them. I’m not very expressive when it comes to this; I just let my actions speak for themselves.

Do you ever go to the beach? Yeah, of course. I love the beach. I’ve been aching for a trip for well over a year.

Would you rather have a cup of coffee, tea, or hot chocolate? Coffee.

How's your hair looking right now? I washed it last night, so it looks okay.

What's something your mother always says? Well these days, she always reminds us to spray alcohol and disinfectant spray every time a delivery for someone in the family arrives. Which is an understandable thing to nag us about.

What's something your dad always says? He doesn’t really have a catchphrase, though these days he does like sharing about the funny or educational videos he’s been seeing on TikTok.

What's your favorite thing to wear? Tank tops or airy oversized shirts.

Have you ever had a near-death experience? Nope.

What do you order at Starbucks? Grande iced caramel macchiato + whatever pastry they have that I happen to be in the mood for.

What kind of exercise do you enjoy? Taking a walk with my dogs.

What's the worst injury you've ever had, and what was it from? The infection/wound I got from when I went snorkeling without flippers and ended up grazing my left foot against coral reefs one too many times.

Do you still have any of your childhood toys? If so, what? Nope, my mom threw them all out as I grew up and when we moved in to our current house.

Did you have a Precious Moments colouring book? No, I’m also not sure what that is.

Don't you miss being 13? No, puberty wasn’t exactly a fun time as there was a lot of emotional turmoil happening.

How'd you react to receiving your very first pimple? I didn’t keep a journal entry or anything from that day but I would imagine I was surprised and horrified.

Are you spoiled? Only when it’s deserved. My parents have stopped buying things for me since I now earn for myself, but back when I was younger I will say I was the most pampered out of us siblings. That said, I still made sure I worked hard for whatever it is I was asking from them, like promising them straight As for a quarter or semester in class.

What's your favorite day of the week? Friday.

What room of your house do you spend the most time in? My own. I’m back to working there again since I’ve started to find the dining room noisy.

Do you believe in the death penalty? Only for extreme offenses.

Do you have MSN, Yahoo, or Skype? I don’t have accounts on any of these.

What is your biggest turn-on? Continued from...sometime last weekend? I think? Thighs or fingers.

If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be? I’d rather be in a not-stuck-in-a-pandemic world altogether, to be honest.

Do you ever have any problems just *moving on*? At first, because I hate change and try to resist it as much as I can. Assessing myself in the last few months though, it looks like I’m much better at moving on with my life as I thought.

Do you collect anything? I collect BTS merch now...my collection is gradually getting bigger hahaha. I currently have all 7 of their Cold Brew Lattes, then I recently placed an order for their most recent album. Once I finish all the coffee I’ll move on to the Hot Brew ones, then I plan to buy 1-2 albums per month until I complete my collection, then move on to the DVDs, magazines, and other novelty merch. ZERO REGRETS

If you saw a shooting star, what would you wish on it? Sustained happiness.

Do you like rollercoasters? I’ve never ridden one and I don’t plan to.

What's the most romantic thing you've ever done for someone else? Get them a customized locket/necklace. Either that or make a video compiling greetings and photos with friends when I had no clue how to edit videos and had to learn from scratch.

How do you celebrate Halloween? I don’t strictly observe it, but when I do it’s usually because someone else organizes a party for it. Last year my company had a Halloween party, then the year before that Rita’s sister invited us to their college party, etc.

Who is your favorite villain? Gus Fring from Breaking Bad.

Do you have a favorite coloring book artist? I have a couple of Steve McDonald coloring books; I like his works because they’re gigantic and yet super detailed. Keeps me occupied (if I ever do color) :)

How many pairs of shoes do you own? Idk, I think around 10 would be a safe guess.

Have you ever wanted to model? I did, back in middle school. That was when VSFS was still a thing and I had wanted to be like those girls lol.

When you want to unwind, how do you relax? Light up a scented candle, take surveys, and, lately, watch whatever BTS content I feel like consuming hehe.

How do you react when someone you know's having a freak out? Try to calm them down as best as I can and make sure they aren’t hurting themselves.

Have you ever seen someone have a seizure? No.

Do you have a phobia? Cockroaches and any sharp points.

Who is your hero? I don’t have one.

If you were to commit a crime, what would it be? No thanks.

Have you ever used drugs? Nothing beyond caffeine, nicotine, pills I take for headaches.

How would you define what you want out of life? Self-satisfaction, I guess.

What's your favorite car? A Mini Countryman.

#survey #surveys

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sparklingskz · 5 years

Text

the heart of the matter | kim seungmin

▸ genre: college au, fluff!!

▸ description: you’re supposed to be registered into the physics class for humanity majors but somehow you’re in the advanced class, and Seungmin comes to your rescue.

▸ word count: 2.4k

▸ a/n: some cute seungmin for u (✿◠‿◠) also idk why I added those emojis in the text messages, i was just feeling like it ig lol

“I’m sorry, but it seems you’re registered in the advanced physics class,” the woman working at the front desk answered.

“This can’t be.” Exasperation dripped from your tone. “I’m sure I enrolled in the class for humanity majors. Can you please check again?”

You watched as the woman clicked on the screen a few times. “Your name is on the advanced list, so I’m afraid you’ll need to attend that class.” She directed a sad look at you.

“Isn’t there a way to change it? Transfer me to the easier course?” you pleaded.

“You can, but only after the first semester has passed,” she said after shrugging.

You sighed. “Okay, thank you.”

It seems you’ll have to survive until the end of the semester.

When you checked your schedule that morning, your heart stopped for a second when you noticed the small “advanced physics” printed, and immediately headed towards the university’s administration to figure out what was happening.

Turns out you probably messed up when you were selecting your classes.

Anyways, there was no use to cry because of it now. You resignedly headed to the physics room, mentally preparing yourself for what was about to come.

You were standing in front of the classroom doors, pondering whether to go in or not. To say you were confident would be a complete lie. However, you needed the attendance if you wanted to pass, so you took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

You sat down on the second row and took out your materials, and were completely prepared to pay attention to try and save yourself from failing.

Oh, but it was not going to be so easy.

Only half an hour had passed and you were suffering. Physics was never your forte, and now that you had to learn things way above your level, you’d have to work twice as hard. You were trying your best, taking notes of everything the professor was saying, your hand aching every once in a while.

Some time later the lesson ended, and you quickly packed your stuff and left the classroom, feeling exhausted from all the information you had to engrave into your brain.

This was definitely going to be a tough semester.

“Why is this so difficult?” you whined as you buried your head into your hands.

You were currently at the library, your physics notes and a book opened right in front of you, trying to absorb as much knowledge as you could.

It was not going very well.

You were a humanities major, for God’s sake! All these formulas and theorems weren’t going to be of any use to you, but if you wanted to do well on your upcoming test you’d have to learn all of them by that time.

Frustration was quickly building up on you, but you picked up your book and delved right into it again.

You were jotting down a few definitions when you suddenly felt a soft voice addressing you.

“Excuse me?”

You looked up towards the voice and were met with a boy sitting on the table next to you, looking at you curiously.

“Um, yes?” you asked, wondering what he would want.

“Are you studying for the advanced physics class?”

“I’m trying,” you sighed.

“Do you want some help? I think I don’t suck that much at physics,” he said, shrugging.

At this point, you’d take any help you can get, even if you didn’t know the boy.

“If you don’t mind, that would actually be good,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

He returned your smile and picked up his things and moved to go sit right next to you, setting his supplies down on the table.

“Oh! I just realized I haven’t told you my name. I’m Seungmin.” He extended his hand for you to shake, and you took it.

“I’m y/n. How did you know I needed help?” you inquired.

“Well, let’s say I could feel your frustration from where I was seated, and you look like you’re one second away from having a meltdown during class.”

You laughed a bit and looked at the floor. “Yeah, I’m hopeless.”

“Don’t say that! Look, I know it may be difficult but just take a deep breath and let’s start with the basics, okay?” Seungmin said softly.

You looked up at him, and you could swear you were staring at an angel. This boy, who was very cute you might add, offering his help to you? Maybe choosing the advanced class wasn’t a complete mistake.

“There, you got it right!” Seungmin exclaimed and high-fived you.

“Looks like I’m not that hopeless after all,” you said with a smile.

Seungmin had spent the past hour teaching you, and you could say that you had understood everything. It was like he had a special way with words, he made the complicated terms you learnt in class make sense and everything sound way more simple than it probably was.

Whatever it was, you were grateful.

It was when Seungmin yawned you noticed how late it had gotten. “You must be tired, sorry for keeping you here so long trying to teach my humanities major brain,” you said, closing your books.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. By the way, why are you taking the advanced class?” he tilted his head, like a cute puppy.

“I made a mistake when registering my classes, so now I’m stuck until the first semester ends,” you said sadly, both of you standing up and heading towards the library’s exit.

“Well, if you’d like I could continue tutoring you, I’m not that busy this semester.”

You stopped on your tracks to face him. “You’d really do that?”

“Yeah, why not? You shouldn’t have to suffer because of your mistake, and if I can help in any way, then I’d be happy to,” he finished with a smile.

Perhaps angels did exist in real life, you thought.

“If you’re sure… I would really appreciate the help.”

You both traded numbers and went your separate ways, the image of the nice boy stuck in your mind.

Some time had passed, and you had met up with Seungmin a few times to study. Well, at least most of the time, because you sometimes got off track and ended up talking about random topics and getting to know each other. You weren’t complaining, though.

You found out that the boy was actually a physics major, hence his deep understanding on the subject. He loved it, so he also loved teaching it to you (you found this piece of information especially endearing).

Every time you studied, you brought him food as to repay him, because he wouldn’t accept money and he was, as he himself put it, a “starving college student”. Turns out, you were meeting at least twice a week to eat and occasionally study, only when it was necessary as you thought it was way more fun to just talk for hours about anything and everything.

You wouldn’t deny that your heart would race a little every time you met.

However, you’d have to ignore such thoughts because you had a final exam coming up, and a large part of your grade for the course depended on the score you got. You wanted to do well so you would be able to transfer to the easier class without any regrets.

You texted Seungmin so you could meet up to (actually) study.

you (15:34 pm): hey I need help for the final exam, are u free today? (^▽^)

seungminnie ♡ (15:36 pm): do u have food

you (15:37 pm): who do u take me for, of course

seungminnie ♡ (15:38 pm): then I’m free ヽ(^◇^*)/

you (15:40 pm): see u at the library dork

You locked your phone and headed to the library.

When you got there, you immediately spotted Seungmin, who was sitting on the table you two used every time you studied there. You went over and said hello, sitting down next to him.

After talking about random topics for a few minutes, you took out your physics supplies and watched as Seungmin did the same thing.

You were looking at the amount of information you’d have to internalize, and your leg immediately started bouncing up and down, nerves flooding your entire system.

Seungmin seemed to notice your nervousness. “Y/n, you’ll do fine,” he said, resting his hand on top of your leg, stopping its bouncing. “Relax.”

How is he asking you to relax when his hand is right there, you didn’t know.

“It’s just… A lot of information,” you sighed.

“And we’ll go through it, don’t worry.” He directed a smile at you, instantly calming you down.

You trusted him, definitely. After all, he was one of the people you had grown closer to during your time in college, and you knew he did his best to teach you, taking time out of his day to help you out.

And you appreciated that.

You watched as he opened the physics book, getting everything set up for you to review. You got into your studying mindset, ignoring the way your heart jumped when of your hands brushed when reaching for your notes.

This would be a long evening.

“Come on y/n, I know you know this,” Seungmin said.

You sighed, burying your face in your hands. “I think I’m just a bit distracted.”

Oh, damn right you were. You didn’t know what was happening to you that specific day, but you weren’t paying enough attention to your textbook or Seungmin’s attempts at explaining. Instead you were paying attention to the way his hands moved enthusiastically when he was trying to express something, the way he slowly blinked when reading, or the way his mannerisms resembled a cute puppy (you couldn’t explain how, but he did).

And all this was affecting your concentration.

“Okay, you know what? Let’s take a break.” He closed the textbook. “We’ll take a nice walk around campus and come back to finish studying, how does that sound?” Seungmin said.

That definitely was better than staying in there dealing with whatever was happening to you. “Okay, let’s go.”

You both grabbed your things and went outside, and started strolling along the buildings on your campus.

The atmosphere was serene. Not many people were outside at that particular time so you both walked in a comfortable silence, Seungmin’s presence comforting beside you. You didn’t talk much except for some punctual comments here and there, preferring to just enjoy the moment and relax before going back inside.

Before you had a chance to do that, though, you both walked next to one of the green areas on campus, some trees, grass and benches adorning the area. That’s when Seungmin turned to face you.

“Hey, how about we continue studying outside? I read that a change in scenery can do the brain good when retaining information,” he said, nudging you with his elbow.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Oh really? And where did you read that?” You asked, unconvinced.

“I don’t know, Pinterest?” he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, it’s probably true.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond when he grabbed your hand and dragged you to sit on the grass, under the shade of a big tree.

You weren’t going to lie and say that studying there didn’t sound like a good idea.

You took out your supplies and got to work, a slight breeze surrounding you both and the feeling of soft grass under your fingertips accompanying you.

The moment you handed in your finished test, you could physically feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. You wouldn’t have to worry about physics until after you got your results back, and you could confidently say you thought you did very well.

A week after that day, you were walking along campus next to Seungmin (“y/n you need to get out of your dorm and stop stressing over your test, you told me you did well!”), checking your phone every ten minutes to see if you got your grade back.

When you heard the typical notification sound, you froze. On the screen, an email from your physics professor was displayed for you to open.

A few seconds later, Seungmin spoke. “So? What are you waiting for, a damn invitation? Open it!”

You snapped out of it and tapped the notification, and you skimmed through the email to see how you did.

A big 87/100 was written, next to “grade”.

“I passed!” you exclaimed, jumping up and down. “Eighty-seven out of a hundred!”

In the thrill of the moment, you threw your arms around Seungmin, embracing him into a big hug. It was all thanks to him, after all.

“Thank you so so much Seungmin, I couldn’t have done it without you,” you said, retreating your arms from around his neck.

He smiled widely at you. “Please, you were the one that answered that test, I just helped,” he shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Don’t be modest. Hey, check your grade too!” you suddenly exclaimed.

You watched as Seungmin took out his phone from his pocket and unlocked it. He tapped the screen a few times before announcing his score, “I got a ninety-five,” he smiled at you.

“Wasn’t expecting anything less from you, to be honest.”

He playfully hit your arm because of your comment, before speaking. “This needs a celebration. Want to grab some food? It’s almost dinner time, I’ll treat.”

“Oh? What happened to ‘I’m a starving college student, please feed me?’” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly.

“Maybe I want to treat my date to some food, I can’t do that?”

You stopped in your tracks when you heard him say that. A date? Did Seungmin like you back? Wait, you didn’t even conclude that you liked him, you just thought he was cute and had an amazing personality, you loved his laugh, the way he talked, how he was so patient with you whenever you studied, and all his little quirks and traits.

Oh.

Maybe you did like him.

“A date? As in… non-platonic?” you asked, just to clear things up.

“I mean…” He scratched his neck, not meeting your gaze. “If you don’t have a problem with it, I would like to.”

In a sudden urge of confidence, you grabbed his hand into yours, making him look up at you. “I would like to,” you said while smiling.

He gave you a bright smile in return. “Let’s get going, then.”

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