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#i told y’all I was naming everything after cheeses
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i don't know if anyone remembers that teen apocalypse show Daybreak that Netflix cancelled after one season but im rewatching it while i wait for Yellowjackets s2 and i just transcribed turbo's entire on-screen-text speech from episode 6 and im going a little insane. i love him sm
anyway here it is:
You all. Every one of you. My legion, my friends, my tribe. I see you. I know your names and I know your heart. I know who puts in an honest day’s work. And I know who slacks the system. You know it, too. You know who you are. I SEE YOU. And it’s to you, I say, I’m lowkey-not-lowkey ballistic. You trust me to give you everything, yeah. Food, shelter, warmth, weapons, leadership, safety. Even a beer every now and then. And in return, you know what I ask? It’s pretty fucking simple. I ask that you don’t murder-kill me. That’s how this shit is supposed to work. Fair exchange, right? I mean, after everything I’ve built here? Look around you. This is our school. Our public school. And a public school takes in anybody. I take in anybody. There’s always a seat for you on my bleachers. Doesn’t matter your former tribe. Doesn’t matter who you used to be. You’re safe here. I’m the eye in Hurricane Nuclear Fallout. I’m the SPF-120 protecting you from the heat-blasting sun. And once it sets, I’m the only warm blanket you got on these bitter-ass nights. I give you all this, and I ask the simplest thing in return. Loyalty. Loyalty and trust. Loyalty and trust and like an inch of respect maybe. But mostly, loyalty. And would it seriously hurt you to pick up the trash every once in a while. This place is a mess. And it’s starting to smell like foot cheese. Again: I SEE YOU. A quarterback can’t make epic plays without knowing where every single lineman and running back and receiver is. Same here, with you. My job is impossible unless every lieutenant and soldier and kitchen scut right on down the line is is doing their fucking job. Vibe me? Am I getting through? Well, guess what? Y’all betrayed me. Why? I didn’t build all this so you fucks could just take it from me. No way. You don’t own this. The second you do is the second you make it toxic. I’m reminded of the immortal words of that guy who said whoha in Any Given Sunday. [HE GOES ON TO QUOTE THE ENTIRE SPEECH. IT’S LIKE… REALLY LONG.] Yeah. That’s right. I memorized that whole speech. Took me a whole year. I also memorized the speeches from Hoosiers and Remember The Titans and Rocky IV and Cool Runnings and The Mighty Ducks and She’s The Man and High School Musical and Friday Night Lights, both the movie and the television series. So I know about inspiration. I’ll tell you this story. It’s something I didn’t understand at first but now I’m coming around to it. It’s a story my dad told me. There was this guy who used to make vases. I don’t know what they call that? A vaser? Maybe? No. That’s wrong. A sculptor. I guess that could be right. A potter? Maybe a potter? I wonder if that’s why the kid is named Harry Potter? Because he made magic. Like made it. What was I saying? Potter? The vase! Right. Those vases were beautiful things. And check this out… the guy would wrap and unfired vase in horse hair — then put it in his kiln. The horse hair would burn off and leave these black, charred scars. But to get the horse hair, the guy would have to pluck it straight from a stallion's tail. How baller is that? And every time he did, that stallion would buck. The vase-maker, vaser, potter — he was pretty good at dodging the kick, cause he knew it was coming. But more than once, the horse would get him. Knocking him in the face and shoulder. Nasty shit. He still had rolling shards of broken bone you could feel, where the horse shattered his clavicle. But Christ in a halo, it was worth the pain. Those vases, man. I know you think I’m a dumb jock, but I can appreciate a thing like that. Well, I look out at you all, and I think that’s what I have here. You’re the bucking horse. I’m the sculptor. And the beautiful vase is all this, Glendale High. Look what we have. But you fuckers broke the vase. And I’m not sure we can ever glue this thing back together. But I’m gonna try. I’m really gonna fucking try. 
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sonicgetsrawed · 4 years
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Bleu Cheese
Another Varain x Hugo one shot! I told y’all I dying on this ship! Warning: mentions of blood, vomiting, and injury!! Enjoy!!
Varian’s heart felt like it might explode out of his chest. Granted he felt like that most times he was around Hugo, but he knew for a fact that was not what was causing it this time, despite Hugo’s hand being wound tightly around his wrist. They had barely managed to escape Donella’s goons, after quite a few close calls it seemed they’d finally lost them thanks to his sticky bombs and Hugo’s smoke bombs. Finally Hugo released his wrist, both doubling over to catch their breath. Luckily they had separated from Yong and Nuru to cover more ground in the large cave, he just hoped they also managed to avoid the fight. Once he had regained his breath sufficiently enough he pulled the taller male into a quick kiss.
“I almost thought we weren’t going to make it.” Varian laughed, watching as Hugo’s face flushed redder from the kiss.
“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to do that.” Hugo responded, crossing his arms over his chest.
“We agreed we weren’t going to in front of Yong and Nuru.” Varian countered. And it was true, they had decided to keep their relationship a secret for the time being, not wanting it to ruin the dynamic of the group when they were so close to fulfilling their mission.
“In that case,” Hugo cupped his face pulling him into a deeper kiss. Varian tangled his fingers in his hair the best he could with Hugo’s ponytail in place. Hugo placed his hands on Varian’s sides pulling him closer to further deepen the kiss. A pain shot through Varian’s side, he involuntarily bit down on Hugo’s bottom lip pushing away hurriedly. He sucked in a harsh breath, now that he had been made aware of the injury and the adrenaline had worn off, his side throbbed in pain. He barely heard the string of curses Hugo let out, through the pain filled fog his mind now seemed to be entering. He pressed a hand to his side, vision blurring when he spotted his blood soaked hand. He had come leaps and bounds from fainting at the sight of blood, but the amount that coated his hand, the slight metallic taste that lingered on his tongue from accidentally biting Hugo, and the blood loss made him sway dangerously on his feet. Hugo steadied him before he could fall over completely.
“Varian, I need you to focus on me. Do you remember what happened?” Hugo asked. Varian tried really hard to focus on what he was saying, but all he saw was the blood on his hand and the blood that had pooled on his lip. If he wasn’t nauseous before he certainly was now. He pushed Hugo aside just in time as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the cold floor of the cave. Varian couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. It was just his luck to get stabbed and vomit on his boyfriend’s shoes only a month after cementing their relationship. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to breathe somewhat normally each breath sending pain to his injury.
“‘M sorry.” Varian mumbled out, supporting himself with one arm against the stone wall. He flinched when Hugo grabbed his arm.
“It’s okay. We’re going to sit down. Can you sit down?” Hugo didn’t wait for him to answer as he guided him to the floor, away from the vomit. He felt Hugo gently pat his cheek. “Open your eyes, Var. I need you to stay awake.”
He shook his head. “Can’t look. ‘M awake.”
“Okay. I need you to talk to me then.” Varian nodded, sucking in a breath although he couldn’t bring himself to respond vocally. Hugo sighed. “I’m going to check the injury. I need to see how bad it is.”
Varian nodded again, hoping that Hugo was as gentle as he had been whenever it was just the two of them. He felt his shirt being lifted and the band of his pants being lowered just a smidge. He could feel his cheeks heating up, mentally scolding himself. Now was not the time to get embarrassed about such a small thing compared to the injury he had sustained. His eyes shot open when Hugo’s hand accidentally grazed the wound. He bit his lip in an attempt to suppress a cry of pain.
“Sorry!” Hugo apologized hastily, turning to rummage through their supplies. “So bad news is you definitely need stitches, the disinfectant is probably going to sting like hell, and we’re most likely going to have to camp out here for the night.”
“What’s the good news?” Varian asked, eyes focused on the ceiling not wanting to risk a look at the cut.
“You’re going to have a gnarly scar?” Varian scoffed, rolling his eyes. Hugo just laughed. “Okay, we’re going to get to be alone at least for the night, and when we reunite with the others I can use this as an excuse to have some more alone time with you.”
Varian’s face flushed at that, momentarily forgetting the pain. He was cruelly reminded of it when Hugo began cleaning the wound. It wasn’t nearly as bad as when he poured the disinfectant on though. He couldn’t stop the scream that tore from his throat, vision blurring at the white hot pain that ran through him.
Hugo shushed him, placing a soft kiss to his forehead before continuing his work. “It’s almost over. Just the stitches left, then I’ll set up camp and you can get some rest.”
Surprisingly the stitches went much smoother than the disinfectant. It was still uncomfortable but he kept his voice down, only the occasional gasp or whimper escaping him. Finally his clothing was returned to its normal position and all the blood was wiped away, save for the stained clothing. He pushed himself to his feet, not wanting to let Hugo do all the work, and set up their sleeping bags while Hugo started a fire. He settled into his bag after that, the exhaustion of the day taking its toll. Hugo joined shortly after, pulling Varian closer to him so that his head could rest on his chest. Varian sighed contently listening to Hugo’s breathing and heartbeat. It wasn’t long before he felt his eyes start to flutter closed, one of Hugo’s arms wrapped around him, his other hand stroking his hair.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again.” Hugo said suddenly, quietly, almost as if he wasn’t sure he wanted Varian to hear or not. He hadn’t even realized he had scared the older male.
“Hey, Hugo?” He hummed in affirmation. “Thanks for being here with me. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Varian mumbled deciding it best to ignore his previous statement. He felt Hugo’s grip tighten slightly as another kiss was placed on top of his head. He didn’t wait to hear if he ever replied falling asleep for once feeling safe and secure.
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truglori · 3 years
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Game Night...
(Heads I win...Tails you lose)
Synopsis: Game night at Erik’s crib with a twist...
Pairing: Erik Stevens x Plus size OC
Warning: Language, Smutt
A.N- Inspiration was this picture
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It was Game Night at Erik’s. He held them every other Saturday night and it was starting to become a ritual for Kaila to attend within the last month. When being surrounded by coworkers ,who became good friends, food, drinks, and music how could anyone turn down a time like this. Along with his beautiful luxurious bachelor’s pad Erik made a pretty good host.
Everything from wings with different flavors, a meat and cheese board, warm soft cinnamon pretzel bites, chicken and beef quesadillas, as well as different chocolates and chilled high class wine ,that Kaila wasn’t used to, had covered his antique walnut wooden dining table. Like she thought, he was a great host who had great taste and wasn’t cheap at all.
Standing in front of the miniature buffet with an empty plate Kaila was indecisive on what to get and how much. Still fresh to the friend group she was conscious on how much she ate in front of people that she wasn’t really comfortable with yet. Out of the six times she’s been here this was only her second time eating with them after getting pressured by her cubicle buddy ,Celina, telling her to make a plate before everything was gone.
Hearing the chatter coming from the livingroom, Kaila decided on a few slices of the quesadillas instead of the wings. She didn’t want to look like a pig knowing that she would try to suck the sauce off of her fingers afterwards. Filling up her red plastic cup with the cool wine she headed back into the huge living area. Spotting her purse and coat she sat in her spot and cuddled up with her belongings.
“See I told you, the food is good.” Celina smiled while sipping on her wine. She brought a hand to her hair stroking the box braids and giggled.
Kaila noticed that she had three cups prior so she knew that she was starting to become loose.
Laughing with her, Kaila shook her head and dug into her finger food. Looking at the small group she wondered how she was able to fit in with them. The group consisted of three women and three guys, Erik including as one of them. Every single person in their clique was extremely attractive and in shape. Her body type did not belong at all. There was always rumors going around the office about them setting up date nights to throw orgy parties. At least that’s what people assumed because they were so tight and never invited anyone else.
But Kaila had to take a chance and ask, since her desk buddy was a part of the famous group. So one day she asked Celina if it was true only to earn one of the most hysterical laughs in her face. She shut it down immediately and informed her the reason behind their closeness was because they all trained and got hired for their jobs at the exact same time and have been inseparable since.
Celina thought it was funny and invited her out so she could see that she wasn’t lying. Kaila refused the first few times but gave in after Celina had another one of their members, Leah, tag team against her insisting that she’d come. Kaila wasn’t an extrovert at all. Her regular day included work, talking on the phone with her baby sister who was away for college, and tv time with her cat, Snuggles.But she wanted to change that so she made Game Night at Erik’s a part of her weekend routines.
“Y’all mufuckas ready to get this bitch started.” Erik walked in finally making his presence known after being upstairs for half an hour. He was changed out of his work attire into something more relaxed. Nike grey sweats, a crisp white tshirt with his gold chains falling over it, and his Nike slides to match. His dreads were out of the braids that he only kept in while he was at work, now they were wild and free.
Kaila took in his frame. She watched as his muscles flexed from the slightest movements. Twisting open his personal bottle of Hennessy, she watched him take a long swig and shaking his head at the taste afterwards. She did a short giggle when she seen him hiss making his gold canines show. When Erik’s eyes turn to her direction she quickly averted her gaze to everyone else praying that she didn’t get caught staring.
This crush that she had for him was starting to be too much. At first she thought it would go away once she would find out that his body and personality didn’t mix but it became worst when she started to hang out with them. Erik was nothing like how she thought of him to be. Before hand she for sure figured him out as a smug and arrogant jerk but he was the total opposite. He was such a gentleman, sweet, and a charmer when it came to the ladies.
The littlest things he did like hold the door for her, or making sure that she wasn’t the last one going into a building whenever they went out for lunch to grab coffee. Kaila was falling for all of it. But after hanging out with them for so long Kaila noticed a few things about him. Yes, Erik was a sweetheart but he had a rough edge to him. When the drinks were in his system Erik liked to talk his shit, and he was nasty with it too. Of course all of the girls in the group would openly let him know that he could fuck if he wanted to. All except Kaila, she would never make a statement as bold as that no matter how much alcohol she had.
“About time nigga. The hell was you doing back there?” One of the guys, Tyler asked sitting in between Leah’s legs on the floor.
“My shit, my business bitch ass nigga.” Erik retorted playfully. He walked in front of his coffee table sitting in his chair. On the table had a display of all types of games. He sorted through them taking his time.
“Erik hurry up and pick a gamee.” Celina whined as she still sipped.
Glancing up he eyed everyone briefly. “The fuck is it, rush Erik night or sumn shit. Y’all niggas know without this y’all wouldn’t have shit else to do so calm the fuck down for I throw all y’all ass out.” He laughed drinking out his bottle.
“Hold up I didn’t say shit. I hope that’s not for everyone.” The thick dark skin girl who’s name was Keisha came in and sat down. Kaila thought she was the prettiest.
“Nah not you Keisha, you know you my boo.” He smirked.
She giggled doing the “period” motion with her hand. Kaila smiled sitting her plate on the floor beside her making a mental reminder to throw it away before she leaves.
Erik cleared his throat picking up a box. “Aight I got one. Do or Drink!” Sitting the other games to the side he placed the box in the middle.
Groanes and curses came from the other people. Kaila faced them amused with their reaction wondering what was wrong with the game he chosed.
“No Erik you always pick this game.” Leah flopped her hands to the side of her.
“Yeah I don’t like this one bae. You be making everybody drink and get drunk while playing this. Can we play something else.” Keisha sighed picking up her glass.
“No y’all only get drunk cause y’all mufuckas don’t know how to drink or hold ya liquor. Besides she ain’t never played this with us yet.” He spoke sorting the cards.
All of the attention went towards Kaila. Trying her best to shrink in her side of the couch she felt her cheeks heat up. Kaila hated when she was put on the spotlight in front of everybody. Bringing her cup to her mouth she sipped some hoping to calm her nerves.
“Kaila you ain’t never played this with us?” Troy asked.
Shaking her head she smiled timidly. “No but I guess I will tonight.”
“Kaila the game is real simple, all you have to do is draw a card, read it aloud so that everyone can hear you and you can either choose to do what it says or drink instead. Don’t worry about all that extra shit. Got it?” Erik asked her shuffling the deck.
“Yeah I got it.” She answered softly.
When he eyed her up and down part of her had to clenched her thighs to keep the wetness she felt down there from damping her panties and the other part wanted to run away from his gaze. The way he looked with his dreads covering his eyes was so enticing and it had her excited. Something she haven’t felt with a man in almost two years.
There was an order on how the rotation went. It was Celina, Keisha, Troy, Tyler, Leah, Erik, and lastly Kaila. She was okay with going last just to see how the game was to be played. It was easy to catch on to after the first few turns. Some of the draws that Kaila picked up were to risky for her so she had to drink for not doing them. Because she didn’t drink hard liquor Erik allowed her to take shots of the wine but for everyone else it was either tequila or some of his Hennessy. She was definitely starting to feel warm from the drinking she’s been doing.
Now it was going on the second round and it was Leah’s go,she had to draw a card. “Okay it says let the group go through your phones photo gallery for 60 seconds. Do this or take two shots?” She threw her card down looking for the shot glass.
Erik jumped up from his seat. “Unh uh hand it over. You passed the last time. Gimme your fuckin phone.” He chuckled walking near her.
Kaila laughed watching Leah try to keep her phone away from him but failed due to his tall and bulky stature taking it clean straight out of her hands. He held the IPhone to her face unlocking it and went to her gallery. Erik’s eyes went from entertained to lustful within seconds. Sucking in his bottom lip he glanced back at Leah.
“Damn girl. Yo shit pretty as fuck.” His low voice crept throughout the room. His eyes traveled down to her covered area.
Kaila, knowing what he was referring to, felt herself get jealous and turned on at the same time. She wanted him to look at her like that and speak to her the same way but she was to shy to say anything.
“Nigga let me see.” Tyler hopped up standing next to him. His mouth dropping when he saw whatever that was on the screen. “Damn Leah.”
Rolling her eyes Leah snatched her phone from their view. “Okay y’all niggas not bout to be fantasizing over my pussy.” She sat back on her end of the couch.
Erik shook his head walking to his chair. Picking up a card he read silently before trying to pick a new one. Celina sat up when she saw him and called him out.
“Uh Erik you never skip cards. What you doing baby boy?” She sat on the edge.
Erik smack his lips. “Nah not that one. Plus it’s my shit I could do whatever I want.” He spoke lowly going to the next card.
Keisha got up walking over to him. “No let me see the card because I ain’t never seen you skip one a day since I met you.” She tried picking it up but Erik snatched it away.
“Chill Keisha, watch out.” He grabbed her wrist lightly.
Keisha laughed. “Boy stop playing with me and let me see.”
Distracted by her going back and forth with him Erik wasn’t aware of Celina sneaking around the other side of him and successfully grabbing the card. She ran behind the couch and read it.
“Let’s see why Stevens was act like a pussy.” She slurred her words. “It’s says motorboat the person to the right of you for 15 seconds, even if they don’t have boobs. Do this or take three shots?”
Everyone looked to the right of him. Sitting at the end of the couch left only one person, Kaila. For the second time that night all eyes was on her. She wished that she could find a hole to crawl in and just die but that wasn’t possible for her. Hearing Celina read the card had her wishing that she would have just left it alone when he skipped the first time. She was embarrassed but she didn’t know if it was because the card dared him to put his face in her titties or that he wanted to skip the turn.
“Celina sit your drunk ass down and just leave the card alone.” Leah grabbed her arm and pulled her down.
“Oops sorry.” She burped putting the card back.
There was silence for a few minutes. For almost the whole night Kaila skipped her turn or declined when someone had to do something to her causing them to lose. She didn’t want to be the party pooper of the hour so she spoke up.
“You can do it if you want.” Her voice coming out lightly. Avoiding the stares from the others her eyes stayed on Erik’s.
His brows lifted up surprised. “Look don’t let Celina’s drunk ass pressure you into something you not down for Kaila.” The way he said her name made her squirm and Erik peeped it himself.
“She wasn’t but if you don’t want to I get it-“ She stopped her sentence when he stood up from his chair.
His body was now in front of hers. Kaila couldn’t help quickly glancing at the print that stuck out through his sweats. The feeling of his hand under her chin tilted it up startled her a bit.
“You wanna do this out here or we can go somewhere private? It’s up to you.”
The room was now quiet as everyone watched the two under the influence and yet still drinking from their cups. Kaila nodded as she stood up signaling that she would rather do it somewhere not in front of them. Stepping to the side she went in front of him and felt his hand on the small of her back.
“Don’t take longer than 15 seconds.” Celina laughed sticking her tongue out when they briefly looked back at her.
Kaila looked around aimlessly as Erik led her down his dark hallway. The only thing that could be seen was the faint wall art from the infrequent lightening outside that came through his windows due to the rainstorm they were going to have tonight. The closer they were to their destination the more the butterflies in Kaila’s stomach start to appear one by one.
“Here we are.” Erik pushed a tall black door opened revealing his master bedroom.
Kaila didn’t stop her eyes from wondering as she looked around. The theme color to his room was black and red. His king sized bed was placed in the middle with a Versace Medusa logo cover resting on top. Laying on the ground next to it was a large black and gold Persian rug. But what caught her attention was the wide mirror that was over his bed.
“You have a nice room Erik.” She sent him a light smile standing in the middle of the floor.
Erik closed his door with the weight of his body. He smirked watching her stand there timidly barely keeping eye contact with him. Erik knew that Kaila had some sort of crush on him but he never said anything about it because he didn’t want to embarrass her. She was always shy around him but was okay with talking to everyone else in the group. Erik couldn’t stand that shit. Watching her round face give her sweet smile to Troy and Tyler always made him jealous. He wanted to be the one to put it on her face but could never get the chance with her always running away from him.
Before she became a part of their group Erik already noticed Kaila around the office. The curve of her wide hips and thickness of her thighs that she would cover up lured him into her. There would be days when she wasn’t wearing her turtleneck and he could finally get a peak at her smooth and chocolate double D’s along with a whiff of her perfume. Erik’s mouth would began to salvitate as he became curious wondering how they would taste. Now he had the chance.
“Thank you. I appreciate that baby.” He chuckled walking to stand in front of her.
Kaila’s eyes averted down at the new pet name. Looking back up, his russet eyes met her chestnut colored ones. His teeth held the full bottom flesh between them. The moment she inhaled for the first time with their closeness Kaila smelled his cologne that sent signals down to her vagina. She could feel the sticky wetness that he was created and he hadn’t even touch her. Her chest rose and fell as her breath hiked up.
“So you ready? It’s only 15 seconds.” The sound of his deep voice had her doing kegals on an imaginary dick.
“Yeah let’s do this.”
The sudden movements of his hands going up to her breast spooked her. Wearing an off the shoulder ribbed dark grey long sleeve tub top Kaila was able to feel his fingertips against her skin. She did a soft moan from the contact hoping that he didn’t hear.
“Big ass fucking titties.” Erik spoke out loud not caring if she heard him or not.
He began to grope them. Bringing his hands to the cuff of them he played with her breast. Lifting them up and down. All of a sudden he was like a kid in a candy store. Kaila could feel her nipples harden on his hands, that frequently rubbed against them. She bit her lip.
Erik smirked watching her get aroused in front of him. He could feel the pebbles turning into rocks from his touch and when he saw her suck on her bottom lip his dick jumped. Wasting no time he lifted her breast up and dove straight in face first. With the combination or her soft titties and her scent Erik’s dick started to get rock hard. He knew then that he now wanted to add titty fucking to the list of nasty shit he wanted to do to her.
“Mm.” Kaila tried her best hide her moan. She didn’t want him to think she was a prude for moaning at something as little as this. It was all a part of a game for goodness sake, but she couldn’t help it. Reaching up she gripped his dreads holding on to him while he moved his head side to side.
The fifteen seconds was long and over with but he was still down there. What was only supposed to be a quick playful motorboat session turned into love bites and delicate sucks. Erik took his time placing a kiss on to each breast. Tracing his tongue over them and then giving a soft suck. He could hear her trying to suppress her moans, but he was working for them and wanted to hear them clearly.
Reaching behind her he slid his hands around her thick waist and then traveled down to her ass. Gripping her cheeks roughly through her leggings he pulled her body into his pressing her down on his thick and solid member. Still continuing his sucks on her breast he groaned hearing her give in.
“Erikk.” Kaila felt the flutters in her stomach and her toes curl when she felt his package bump her area.
“Hmm?” He was now moving up to her exposed neck never losening his grip on her ass.
“The game.” Her words came out as a whine.
“Fuck it. You can’t tell me you not tryna let me fuck right now. Letting me suck on you and shit. I know you wet as fuck down there.” The confidence he spoke with had her dripping even more.
Kaila brought her hands up to his biceps. She turned her head to give him more space to kiss. Squeals left her mouth every time he would grip her cheeks separating them. Kaila wanted to submit badly but was still undecided as she worried about the others listening to what could happen in this room.
Erik pulled away from her seeing that she was hesitant. That’s when an idea popped into his head. His dick was too hard for him to leave without feeling any type of warmth. Going into his nightstand he found the coin and flipped it before walking back to her.
“Alright I have this coin here that’ll decide on what I can receive from you. Since you’re so worried about that dumb ass game out there. We can play our own.”
Kaila’s knitted with confusion but she was curious.
“What type of game?” Her soft voice asked.
Erik licked his lips as she watched hers move. He tugged on her lower lip with his thumb and index finger before showing her the coin and handing it to her.
“If it flips on head I get some pussy and if it flips on tails I get some head. You down?” Stepping in her space he bent his head kissing on her neck. She was so soft to him and it was hard for him to stop.
Kaila observed the gold naughty coin. She never tried anything like this in her 24 years of living. It was new and exciting and with Erik being the person behind it tempting her, she wanted to give it a chance.
“Okay. You flip?” She handed the coin back rubbing her sweaty palms up and down her black leggings.
Taking the coin he strolled over to his bed. Sitting on the edge of it he patted the space next to it offering her a seat. Kaila worked up the nerve to walk over from the liquid courage that she was feeling from the wine. It was making her feel frisky and horny all in one. She sat next to him and smiled sheepishly.
Erik leaned back and smirked. He wrapped an arm behind her as he got ready to flip the coin. “Heads I win...Tails you lose.” He chuckled as she understood the double meaning.
He tossed it up just a few feet above them and caught it quickly with the same hand.
“Hold your hand out.” He demanded and placed the coin flat on her palm. There was a pause for a few seconds before he lifted his hand. It landed on tails.
“Hope you know how to suck some dick.” He reached his hand behind her smacking her ass.
Kaila got up and stood in front of him. Rolling her eyes at his cockiness she pulled her braids up into a bun wrapping them around to keep them out of the way. She pushed him back causing him to lean on his elbows. Getting on her knees he started to rock his leg side to side. Tugging at his sweats she pulled them down along with his briefs making his semi-hard long and girthy length pop out. From the size alone Kaila got intimidated know that if he knew how to work with it he would make her go crazy.
Erik pulled on the hem of his shirt hiking it up to show his abs. He reached down grabbing the base of his dick whirling it back and forth. “I don’t wanna feel no teeth. You hear me?” His command coming out crystal clear.
Nodding her head Kaila leaned forward giving him a gentle kiss. The thick mushroom tip felt good against her lips. She hasn’t been with a man in almost two years so she wasn’t sure if she still had it. But tonight she would find out knowing that Erik would have no problem letting her know.
Getting her mouth wet she let a long sting of saliva drip on to his length. Sticking out her tongue she ran it against the sides wetting his stick up before taking him into her mouth whole. Erik was a challenge so she wasn’t going to get him down in one fit. She’d have to work her way down. She let him slide in and out of her mouth twirling her head when she would reach his tip. Taking one of her free hands she stroked his shaft while shoving her other hand in her leggings rubbing her clit. The feeling of having a dick grow in her mouth made Kaila’s pussy drip and nipples hard.
Looking up she watched as Erik kept his eyes on her. His jaws tightening from her locked jaw that she had on him. The ‘gawking’ sound coming from her made his balls jump. Erik’s eyes now became low as he reached for her braids unraveling the bun and created a ponytail with his fist.
“That’s how you sucking Daddy dick?” He asked surprise as he now sat up leaning on his free hand watching her perform her work of art.
When she felt him hit the back of her throat she answered him on purpose so that he could feel the vibrations. “Mmhm.”
“Ahh SHIT!” Erik threw his head back feeling how her throat had clenched around him. Kaila surprise the fuck out of him. He never expected a head monster behind that quiet little desktop bookworm facade she had put on, but everyone know that they be the main freaks.
She was sucking his shit sloppy just the way he liked it. Her tight warm jaws had his heads in the clouds. Kaila’s head game was starting to get so good Erik felt like he had to do or say something to throw her off.
“Let Daddy slut this muthafucking throat out....gah damnn.” Standing up he lifted his crisp white shirt up to his mouth tucking it in between his teeth. Grabbing her braids and making a ponytail with one hand he cupped her chin with the other as he fucked her throat.
When the spit began to run down her chin and hit her top it reminded Erik of her big chocolate melons that he wanted to fall asleep on. He had got to feel them now he wanted to see them.
“Pull them big ass fuckin titties out.” He spoke with his shirt still clenched in his teeth making his dimples show.
Kaila heard comply to his orders. She pulled the top down and her strapless bra up and began to play with her nipples for him. Using the spit that dripped on her chest she rubbed it on her pebbles as her mouth became wetter with her arousal. She brought a hand back into her pants and tweaked her nub.
Erik watched her play with herself knowing that head wasn’t the only thing he was trying to get from her for the night. If she could suck dick this good he only imagine what that pussy was feeling like.
“Mouth to fuckin good to not try and fuck. You gon give me sum pussy after?” His hips still stroking in her mouth. Kaila tried to push him out by his thighs but he pushed her hands away. “Move them fuckin hands and answer my question.”
Closing her eyes trying to breathe through her nose she nodded her head. Erik smirked as he pulled out of her mouth. Dick standing up and dripping with her saliva.
“Get yo ass on this bed.” He took off his shirt and stepped out of his sweats and underwear leaving him in his naked glory.
Kaila got on the bed, kicking of her shoes she laid on her back looking at herself in his mirror that was above them before she felt him pulling at her leggings. She squealed from the quick action lifting up to help him get them off. The moment the air touched her thighs she grew self conscious of her appearance. Erik noticed when he opened her thighs climbing between them.
“Instead of being worried bout how thick these thighs are you should be worried about how you gon take this dick.” He leaned up and tapped his heavy meat on her covered clit.
“Ooh.” Out of reaction Kaila moaned and shut her thighs closed.
Erik grabbing them and pushing them back to their previous position. “Unh uh. Open ya fuckin legs. I know you got some good warm wet ass pussy. I can feel the heat coming off that muthafucka and I ain’t pull ya panties to the side yet.”
His dirty talk was making her pussy throb. Kaila wanted to feel that heavy dick split her open even if she cried right after. Erik spoke with big dick energy because he know he had big dick to deliver.
“I want some dick.” Her shy hushed words coming out. Kaila didn’t usually speak like this but Erik brought it out of her.
He smirked and grabbed her the back of her thighs and lifted them up pushing them on her stomach. “Oh you gon get this dick, but I wanna eat this pussy first.”
Without warning he bent his head down between her thighs. Using his teeth he dragged her panties to the side. Kaila jump feeling his breath on her lower lips. She started to brace herself when she felt a long lick go up and down her slick coated slit. Taking his hand he used it to separate her meaty flesh. Her natural juices sticking to the sides
Erik groaned biting his lip. “Mm I know you be making niggas drown in this shit.” He watched her hole open and closed as he spoke to it.
Spitting on her clit he went straight to sucking on it. Erik had to stop her legs from snapping on his head. He used the all the upper strength he had to hold her thick thighs down all the while never letting up on her clit. Keeping his mouth around her he flicked the bud repeatedly. Her juices started to drip out already soaking his beard. The smell of her sex made his dick jump with anticipation. He was ready to feel her in some type of way. Bringing his tongue down he began to tongue fuck her tight hole. She clenched down on him as he slid in and out of her walls. Using his thumb he rubbed her clit adding to her pleasure
“Ohh fuuckk....I’m about to cum babyy.” Kaila covered her mouth to try and lower her whining moans but the way he stuck his tongue in her made it impossible.
“Let that shit out.” Smacking her inner thigh he went back sucking her clit. Erik felt how tight she was on his tongue. He knew he had to open her up a bit to get her ready for his dick. He took two fingers and slowly worked them into her.
Kaila lifted her hips to meet his strokes as she felt herself come undone on his fingers. The suction he was applying on her clit brought tears to her eyes. Her legs shook already giving out. Erik lifted up bringing his fingers to his mouth sucking her essence.
“I’ll have game night every day just to get up in this pussy.” He rubbed his tip against her clit. Using her natural lubricant he made himself slick enough and sat at her tight opening. Erik lifted her thighs back to as far as they were able to go and used the weight of his hips and thrusted inside of her.
“Ahh FUCK!! Gah damn. Wait a minute.” He pulled out instantly and closed his eyes. He chuckled lowly shaking his head. “You got me fucked up if you think I’m not beatin this shit down.” He gripped Kaila’s thighs pulling her to the edge of the bed. He had her at an angle and was standing up.
Kaila squeaked. “Erik wait don’t go too deep-“ She was cut off feeling him sink inside of her. Her arms flailing over as she gripped his sheet. Mouth ajar and formed into a silent ‘o’ as she felt herself getting stretched open to max she’s ever been.
Erik wasn’t playing when he said he was going to beat her pussy up. The size or weight of her body didn’t stand a chance to him. He was in beast mode as he drilled her shit in. Kaila’s cry’s and moans fell on deaf ears as he was hitting her spot. No matter how much pushing at his chest she did, it didn’t change the pace or motion he was going in. She had already came on his dick two times but that didn’t mean anything to him.
Kaila whimpered as she brought her hands to his hips to try and stop him. “Daddyyy please l-I can’t.” She brought a hand up to her mouth and bit on her knuckles.
Erik ignored her knowing that she was only speaking because of the sensitivity of her pussy started to probably grow higher the more he stroked her out. The minute he felt her pussy wrapped around his dick Erik got stuck. Her warm and gushy walls clenching him every time he tried to pull out. There was no way she wanted him out of this pussy.
“Move ya fucking hand and take some dick.” He barked as his dreads hung over his eyes and chain swung low. He pulled out tapping on her clit only to slide back in deeper this time.
“Unh..okayy.” She cried frustrated that she couldn’t run
He had her thick frame bended up like a pretzel. Looking between their bodies that was starting to sweat up, Erik watched the way he slid in and out of her. Her coat attached on to his dick. The way he could see her pussy throb around him. But the way she would involuntarily clenched her walls around him when he would pull out only leaving his tip in had her flipping Erik’s crazy switch.
Erik wanted to laugh when he saw the tremble in her lower lip and her tears coming out the corner of her eyes. He was giving her that good dick and he loved watching her get ruined in front of his face. Leaning over her he started to suck her nipples while his stroke never faltered.
Glancing up at the cieling Kaila watched him stroke deep inside of her in the mirror. The rotation of his hips along with his slight curve he had on his dick was sending her to another dimension. He was digging so deep inside of her it had her mind making up scenarios of having a family with him. It was the way he stroked her and fed on her nipples at the same time that had her seeing stars on his wall.
Kaila gripped his dreads. She moaned and whimpered with panted breaths. She couldn’t control the level of her voice. When his strokes were short and fast she’d moan but when he started tapping at her bottom her toes would curl and she’d whimpered and shake underneath him. Kaila didn’t have a clue when she would be able to find another person to hit it the way he did or if there would be another at all.
“Ohh daddy....you so deep in my pussy.” Her sexy moans in his ear had Erik ready to bust. He lifted from her tittes and gave her a nasty kiss. Tongue and all. Kaila moaned and clenched down onto him. Erik’s fingers dug into her skin and sucked on her lip.
“You gon let me nut in this tight ass pussy?” He whispered in her neck.
Kaila shook her head yes willing to agree with anything while he was laying that pipe on her. “Cum in me daddy.”
Erik wanted to hold off but the pussy was hitting too good. He stood back up and stroked until he bottomed out inside her. He’d always get his best nuts when he would go deep. Tucking his lip into his mouth his deep long strokes started to slow feeling his balls tightened. Erik closed his eyes when she gripped his meat and pulling his seed right out of him.
“Fuck!” He groaned and continued to stroke his nut out until he was empty. He pulled out of her with her cream coating his member.
His dick was still hard. Kaila was laying in the same position. Her thighs sore and unable to close from staying open that long. Sitting up she rested on her palms to observe him. Erik’s eyes was glued to her pussy before taking his hand and rubbing her clit.
“I can’t stay out this shit.” He licked his lips.
Kaila shyly smiled as she was about to speak when she heard laughing on the other side of the door.
“Now y’all niggas know them 15 seconds been up.” Celina stated loudly before laughing along with the others.
Her hand covered her mouth as embarrassment clouded her face. She pushed his hand away.
“See Erik I told you.” Kaila whined getting up.
“Wait,where you going?” He asked stepping in front of her.
“I’m going back to the game.”
“We not done here yet. Now come flip this coin to see what you could get. This head...or... this dick.”
_____________________________________
Please excuse any mistakes!
(Going to have to edit this later)
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mirrorforevers · 3 years
Text
here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader
this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:
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and
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this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they
1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude
2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)
3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh
it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur
consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!
let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this
also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻
tw (?) reader has shitty parents
word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)
smut. set in the 90s. au.
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You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.
“Hello?” You answer, panting.
“Y/N?”
“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.
-
A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.
Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.
It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.
Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.
But anyway.
That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.
“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.
“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.
“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”
“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”
“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”
“Is tomorrow ok to you?”
“Sure. After our class?”
“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”
“See you.”
You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.
The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.
Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.
That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.
-
Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.
But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"
-
Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.
Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.
You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.
Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.
You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.
One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.
That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.
-
The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.
(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)
It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.
You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.
Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.
Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.
You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.
And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.
After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.
“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.
His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.
“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”
“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”
The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.
“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”
“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”
“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”
“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”
“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”
“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”
“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”
The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”
“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.
“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”
“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”
-
“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”
Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.
Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.
“What do you think?” is what you say.
“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”
You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”
“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”
“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”
Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”
Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.
They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.
“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.
“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”
“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.
“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”
That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.
“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”
“But that’s your--”
“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”
“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”
“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”
-
The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.
The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?
You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.
You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.
“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”
“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”
“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”
“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”
“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”
“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”
Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.
The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:
You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.
The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.
You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--
You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.
He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.
“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.
“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”
“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”
“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”
“Uh… the day of your audition?”
“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”
His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”
You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”
“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”
“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”
“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”
You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.
“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”
“What, exactly?”
“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.
“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”
“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”
“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”
“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”
“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.
“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”
He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”
“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”
“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”
His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.
If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.
“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”
“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”
“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”
“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”
“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.
“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”
He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”
“Huh?”
“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”
“No way.”
“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”
“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”
“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”
“I’m nothing special.”
“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”
“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”
“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”
“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”
“I know.”
Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”
“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.
“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”
You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”
-
You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.
The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.
The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.
One beep.
Two beeps.
Three beeps.
Four beeps. “Hello?”
You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”
“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.
“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”
“Do you still want to…?”
“...Desperately.”
“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”
“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”
“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”
“The basics.” You make your smile heard.
“I do have… I do have the basics.”
“See you in a few minutes then.”
“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”
“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
“Alright then. See you.”
“See you.”
-
You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.
2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.
He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.
The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.
“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.
Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.
“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.
“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”
“Would you like me to go down on you?”
“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”
“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”
“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”
You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.
As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”
He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”
And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.
His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.
You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.
You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”
“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”
“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”
“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.
Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.
Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.
“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.
“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Please.”
Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”
You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?
“Absolutely.”
The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”
“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”
“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”
After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”
“As you wish.”
He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.
His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.
“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.
He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.
Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.
When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.
Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.
I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.
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sincerelyella · 3 years
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Infinity & Beyond
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Book: The Royal Romance/Heir (AU)
Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)
All characters belong to Pixelberry except for Ella Brooks Rys who belongs to yours truly 🌺
Summary: Liam is even more protective than usual.
A/N: I’d like to thank @gkittylove99 and @sfb123 for your softness prompt requests. I hope y’all enjoy! Prompts will be in bold.
To my nakie twin/soul sister @burnsoslow -> I love you for not complaining when I send you these things and reading them 🥺💜 I love you a butt ton!
Warnings: Adult language, descriptions of body injury, fluff
Words: 1169
Every couple of minutes, Liam would wander into his bedroom and peek at his wife taking a nap. After he was satisfied that Ella was getting some rest, he would make his way outside onto the large balcony connected to their quarters.
“Why do you keep going over there to stare at her?” Drake asked as he flipped a burger on the grill.
“I don’t stare,” Liam bent down to pick up Malia and kissed her cheek.
“Daddy was looking at Mommy!”
“Smart kid,” Drake kissed the hand that his niece offered to him and she squealed in delight. “You hungry Lia?”
Malia raised her arms in the air. “I want pizza, Unka Dwake!”
Drake furrowed his brow and stuck out his bottom lip in pretend hurt. “Not burgers?”
“Party is hereeeeee!” Maxwell barged onto the balcony with bags in his arms. Olivia followed him out with a disdained look on her face.
“You’re always so … cheerful,” she brushed an invisible piece of lint from her red shirt.
“Auntie Liiiiiv!” Malia screeched and squirmed in her father’s arms until he put her down.
Drake nodded toward Olivia and Malia, now chattering away about how Lia wanted red hair like her favorite aunt. “That’s the woman’s way, Li,” he added slices of cheese to the almost cooked meat patties. “They abandon you when someone else catches their attention.”
Liam cringed when he heard Olivia tell his daughter she would dye her hair red when Lia was older. “Okay, I’m going to … check on Ella.”
“You don’t stare my ass,” Drake mumbled as he shook his head.
Liam walked towards his bedroom just like he had every ten minutes for the last hour. He peeked through the door that was cracked open and saw Ella drinking the tea he brought her a little bit ago. He pushed the door open all the way and shoved his hands in the pockets of his green sweater. “Love? You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I am resting, and drinking tea,” Ella lifted her mug in the air with a smile. “What kind is this?”
Liam bit his bottom lip as he let his eyes rove over her. Her pajama shirt hung off one shoulder, exposing her soft skin and her hair was tousled from sleep. The white bandage wrapped around her head contrasted her bronze skin. "I knew you wouldn't go to sleep willingly, so I brought you some chamomile tea and a blanket. Twenty minutes of shut-eye, okay?"
Ella pouted. “I slept already.”
“That wasn’t even an hour!”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, maybe if my husband wasn’t opening and closing the door every ten minutes, staring at me, I’d be able to sleep longer.”
Liam walked into the large bedroom and sat across from his wife with a stern expression. “You fainted walking around downtown,” he clenched his jaw at the memory. “You hit your head on the concrete and have a concussion. You’ve been doing entirely too much, Ella.”
She flinched at him saying her name. He must be really mad. “I was just-”
“Doing too much,” he finished for her. “You’re going to rest and you’re not going to do a damn thing until you’re cleared by the doctor.”
“He cleared me!”
Liam arched his brow at her. “He said don’t overdo it, don’t overexert yourself or do any exercise. Which is the entire reason why we aren’t having sex!”
“That was your doing not mine,” she mumbled and he narrowed his eyes in response.
“Love, you scared the shit out of all of us,” he took her small hands in his and ran his thumbs over her knuckles. “Maxwell wouldn’t stop screaming on the phone and Drake had to carry you to the ER. Even Olivia, of all people, was trembling when I got to the hospital! I thought you had died.”
“But I … I’m …” Ella reached up and felt her bandage, remembering part of that day, the blood, the screams, then someone lifting her easily and running. To where she had no idea. Then, everything went black. Ella was diagnosed with Graves’ Disease which meant her heart rate was always too high and she lost weight at an alarming rate. When she does too much, she notices she gets really short of breath and dizzy. She never told Liam about it because Lord knows what he would put in place so she didn’t go anywhere alone. Her fainting just ruined everything and now he was acutely aware of all of her symptoms.
Liam walking back and forth to check on her to make sure she didn’t die in her sleep was something she should have expected. Add on the fact that she was six weeks pregnant, and that equals super protective Liam. He wasn’t there with them downtown, he was at the palace in a meeting with the French ambassador. He’s never going to let me go anywhere by myself again. “Okay,” she whispered.
Liam cupped her cheeks with his hands. “Please,” he whispered back. “I need you, our daughter needs you, our friends, our little one ...” he looked down at her abdomen and back up to her face. “Just, stay here and rest.”
Ella nodded. “Promise. Now, what’s that?” She pointed to a large pink bag behind him by one of the closet doors.
Liam turned and followed her finger, then turned back to face her. “Oh! I found this in the mall, I figured it might be something you like.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You … went to the mall?”
“Drake wanted to get some high-powered thing for the BBQ grill, Max and I tagged along. Each store has a theme?” Liam gave her a confused look. “Is that the rule? Because some stores had random things that didn’t make sense. Why did book store have candy in them?”
“Those are … questions for another time, sweetie,” Ella cackled. “Can I have my gift now?”
Liam stood to grab the bag and set it on the bed in between them. Ella pulled out all the pink tissue paper and reached in to pull out a stuffed animal. “Ohmigod!” She squished it against her chest in a hug. “It’s Grogu!”
“After we watched The Mandalorian I wanted to get something for you,” he pressed his finger to her nose. “Boop!”
“Mommy!” Malia ran in and hugged Ella. “Wow! Pretty, mine!” She pulled Grogu into her arms and walked out into the hall, yelling for Uncle Max.
“What … just happened?” Ella looked from the door to her husband, who was trying his best not to laugh.
“Our daughter is just like you, taking everything that isn’t hers.”
Ella shrugged. “What wasn’t mine that I took, Your Majesty?”
Liam counted out everything on his fingers. “My sweaters, shirts, basketball shorts? Ring a bell?”
“What’s yours is mine …” she prompted, waiting for him to finish the sentence.
He rolled his eyes. “And what’s mine is yours. Fine, you win. I love you.”
“I know,” Ella grinned.
“A Star Wars reference? I see what you did there. Okay, my turn,” he cleared his throat. “I love you … to infinity and beyond!” He smirked, thinking he won until Ella let out a loud laugh.
“That’s Toy Story, not Star Wars!”
“Oh shit,” Liam shrugged. “Well, same difference.”
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canyouhearthelight · 3 years
Text
The Miys, Ch. 150
I think for the time being, I am going to quit calling myself ‘late’ posting as long as I get the chapter up on the right day of the week *facepalm*.  Bc I am barely keeping ahead, much less remembering to queue things up.
I am so, so sorry about that....
Fair warning before anyone @s me: The French is a joke, so if I got it super wrong I am equally sorry to the degree of which it’s wrong.
Unless it’s obscene. Then I want to know so that I can laugh with you, and I am LEAVING IT.
As always, shouts out to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog!
Heaving an enormous Dutch oven onto a burner, I turned on the heat low and started chopping vegetables. After the first celery stalk, I glanced up at Derek, who sat across from Maverick in our living room.  The quarters were shaped differently, which had distressed Derek initially, but the addition of his favorite blankets to the sofa had helped.  Currently, he was completely distracted from even Mac: staring off into space, his fingers flying and flicking with a feverish, almost convulsive movement.
Maverick glanced up at me with a smile before following my gaze. “Yep, the cyber siege continues.  He’s doing well, from what Zach told me.”
“I thought he was only supposed to attack human-managed systems,” I grumbled, thinking back to the cold shower I had been subjected to that morning. Turning back to the vegetables, I made short work of the celery before taking my frustration out on the carrots. Scooping the diced vegetables into a bowl, I started measuring out paprika, sugar, salt, pepper, basil, and oregano into another bowl.  “Where’s Sam, by the way?”
“On the way,” Maverick promised. “With Terran-style tomatoes, he swears.  And Derek is only attacking systems we manage.  When BioLab 2 was set up, we had to take over water management, to protect the lab from any sort of contamination.”
The knife in my hand, brandished at three cloves of garlic, clattered to the work surface. “Seriously?” I glared at the tap, suddenly suspicious.
“Probably get water from the console,” he winced, nodding briskly at Derek, who nodded in confirmation without stopping his tapping and flicking gestures.
Groaning, I shook my head and crushed the garlic, removed the skin, and started mincing. All that was left was to wait on the tomatoes from Sam.  The garlic was potent enough, and I wanted to avoid cutting any onion until absolutely necessary since Derek was clearly parked for the duration.
I was saved about fifteen minutes later when Conor and Sam stopped at the door.  Sam waved cheerfully and held up the requested vegetables while Conor removed his boots. A quick shuffle later for Sam to remove his own shoes, and both came to the food prep area - too small to be considered a proper kitchen - to greet me. 
First, Conor gave me a big, smelly hug and a kiss on my hair. “Did you already slice the bread?”
“Ew, you gorilla!” I laughed. “And I haven’t sliced any bread yet, I wasn’t sure how long I had and I didn’t want it to get too stale.”
“They’re toasties, love.” He shook his head with a grin before swatting me on the butt. “No one cares if the bread was a bit stale before you started.”
Over his shoulder, Derek’s head bobbed side to side. “I think someone disagrees.” I looked meaningfully past him.  To Conor’s credit, he looked sheepish.
Sam squeezed around and handed me the tomatoes and gave me a hug. “Thank you for making soup.”
“I know it’s our favorite,” I winked before shooing him out of the area. “Not enough room for more than one in the kitchen. Y’all go unwind out there, and make sure you warn Derek that I’m about to start cutting onions.”
As he held up his hands and jokingly scurried away, I turned to the stove and started cursing myself. I’d forgotten to start boiling water. Snagging a small saucepan, I got a carafe of water from the console and started rectifying that, tossing in a generous pinch of salt.  Gently, I cut an X into the bottom of each tomato and set them aside before peeling and dicing the onion.  Immediately, the onion, carrots, and celery went into a food processor.  “Derek, I’m about to be loud,” I called softly before counting to ten to give him time to cover his ears or step into the corridor.  A quick blitz later, the vegetables were perfectly between a mince and a puree.
A quick swizzle of oil went into the already-hot dutch oven before adding the mirepoix and giving it a quick stir. As if on cue, Tyche and Antoine breezed through the door, noses twitching.
“I smell food,” she announced, stalking into the kitchen.  One look at the ingredients was all it took. “Ooooo you’re making the tomato soup.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “I am, and you know I don’t have room in here for spectators, unfortunately.” Arching an eyebrow, I pointed the spoon in my hand at the table.
She wasn’t having it. “One of these days, you’re going to show me how to make that. May as well be today.”
“Nice try, but I need some secrets. Besides, the longer I argue with you, the more likely the vegetables are going to scorch. Scoot!”
She scrunched her face at me but acquiesced. As I scooped the garlic into the pot, I heard her change topics. “How much longer is the stress test? My music keeps getting mixed up with Antoine’s. I don’t mind it, but…”
Antoine smiled softly and shook his head. “But it is quite a shock to expect classical music and instead her rock starts playing.”
Personally, I liked both, but still shuddered at what he was talking about. Carefully lowering three of the tomatoes into the now-boiling water, I glanced at the sauteing vegetables and gave them a quick stir to check. “We have about six more days before the repairs start, maybe four more after that?”
Conor sighed. “I wish we could ask if anything important was being hacked, not just annoying environmental controls.”
“Plants aren’t dead yet,” Sam pointed out, tipping his bottle of water toward Conor in a practiced gesture.  Everyone laughed when, rather than being reassured, Conor leapt to his feet to check on his ‘babies’ in the room.
Cursing, I dipped the tomatoes out of the boiling water and dropped them immediately into an ice bath.  A couple pokes with my trusty spoon showed they weren’t overcooked, thankfully. “None of my information for work has been acting up,” I admitted as I started peeling them. “But Pranav advised that more critical data would either go completely missing or not show any signs of infiltration.  We won’t know until after the test is over.”
“Lovely,” Tyche drawled as she watched Conor fretting over the plants. “So it’s all or nothing.”
I shrugged and dumped the tomato paste - admittedly, from the console - into the pan of other vegetables.  When I stirred, I was satisfied that the carrots, onion, and celery had cooked down to where they were soft. “In a weird way, it makes sense. They’re testing for catastrophic data breaches, which would pull everything down, or for data theft, which you wouldn’t want to leave traces of.”
The corner of Antoine’s mouth quirked up as I dropped three more tomatoes into the pan of boiling water. “No hidden boba tea this time, that is reassuring.”
Hands still moving without hesitation, Derek whipped his head toward Antoine, paused, and turned back to where he had been staring. Derek’s version of a glare.
“That was Charly,” I responded in unexpected unison with Maverick and Conor.  I smirked while dumping the already-peeled tomatoes into the processor with another pinch of salt. “Seriously, Derek had nothing to do with that other than divine retribution.” I paused for a moment. “Although I do have to admit that the cold showers do seem to track with what Charly reported.”
That only got a shrug from Derek, which was as good as an admission.
The conversation shifted again - something Conor and Sam were working on in the aeroponics labs that I had already heard multiple details on, plus repetition.  Tuning it out, I pulled out the last three tomatoes, dropped them in the ice bath, and took a platter with a loaf of bread, sliced cheese, and butter out to the table. “Mav, can you start setting up the sandwiches?”
He went to stand, but Tyche shooed him back down. “I got it. She may not let me help make the soup on this one, but I can prep a grilled cheese with the best.” Staring me in the eye, she started cutting slices from the loaf defiantly.
I just laughed it off. This was the only tomato soup either of us liked, and she had been chasing me for the recipe for ages.  It had become a running joke at this point, so without hesitation, I moved back to the food prep area, peeled the remaining tomatoes, and gave another warning that I was going to be loud.  Some more blitzing later, the now-pureed tomatoes went into the pan of veggies along with the spices I had already measured out, the juice from one lemon, and enough water to fill the pan three-quarters full.  Leaving that to boil, I moved the boiling water off the stove and swapped it for a grill-pan.
“Sophie!” Conor cried from the armchair where he perched. “You’ve seen the plants we’re growing in the lab! Tell them we’ve managed a crop of roots!”
I winced. “Jury’s out… I’m not sure how aeroponic potatoes are going to turn out, but I can confirm they are in the process of finding out?”
Tyche’s knife fell to the table, and she moved her mouth silently in a very accurate imitation of a fish before managing to sputter. “Air-grown… potatoes?”
The confusion on Antoine’s face was painful to look at. He started to speak before stopping himself and instead pulling up his datapad, jotting a message, and flicking it out to the room.
When I read the message, the confusion was so clear that I hurt my sinuses snorting. Des pomme de terre en l’air? Pommes aeriennes? Talk about being lost in translation…. “Conor, Sam… I think Antoine has the perfect name for those if they work out. Just sayin’”
Tyche snorted and shook her head before handing me the platter, with a stack of perfectly buttered bread, two slices of cheese between every other slice of bread.  The soup had just come to a simmer, so I was stirring intently and just nodded for her to start grilling sandwiches.  Several appreciative sniffs and twenty minutes later, six bowls of soup and six matching sandwiches - three cut vertically and three cut diagonally, because it mattered and was not a battle I was willing to fight - hit the table.  Tyche politely placed the salt cellar and a pepper grinder on the table, although the glare she dished out to the collected group promised strong retaliation to anyone who touched them.
I held up half of my grilled cheese in a mock-toast. “To soup night!”
“To air potato soup, soon!” Maverick offered up with a grin, only for everyone to echo his sentiment with the exception of Derek - who just held up half of his sandwich with one hand and tapped away with the other, not even relenting to eat.
Frankly, as long as he spared a hand to eat, I couldn’t bring myself to care.  He took these tests very seriously, and generally only stopped when he was completely asleep.
Everyone dug in, but it was only after my first spoonful that I spoke up. “Considering how long it took to make sure the tomatoes wouldn’t be poisonous, I’m not sure the potatoes will be ready before we get to Von.”
Conor and Sam nodded, as did Tyche and Antoine, but Maverick stopped with his bowl halfway to his mouth.  Setting it down gently, he angled his head. “What do you mean, poisonous?”
“They’re nightshades,” Conor told him, as calmly as if he was telling us that water was wet. “Tomatoes are the only edible berries of that family, and potatoes are the only edible tubers, so we have to be extra careful.”
Maverick’s eyes grew wide and turned toward his soup. Tyche just reached out and patted his hand. “You’ve eaten this soup for years, and you love tomatoes. They’re safe, I swear.  And Sam won’t let Sophia near the new ones until he’s completely sure they’ll be okay to eat.”
Sam nodded, shoving a soup-covered wedge into his mouth. “We’re growing them in simulated Von-light, hoping that keeps the roots from creating chlorophyll.  If we’re wrong, there’s a forty-three-point-six percent chance they won’t grow at all, ten-point-five percent chance they will give you a stomach ache, eighteen-point-four percent they won’t taste good, and twenty-seven-point-five percent they will taste good and be safe to eat at the same time.”
“Meaning they won’t kill you, you might get a tummy ache, but most likely for this generation, they just won’t grow,” Conor translated.
“Hang on,” I held up my spoon. “What kind of stomachache are we talking here?”
The mad botanists looked at each other and made a few thoughtful faces. Finally, Conor nodded and Sam spoke. “Unripe apples,” he stated flatly. “But just unripe apples.”
“Oh, that’s not too bad,” I shrugged and crunched into my sandwich.
Derek finished his half-sandwich and blindly reached for another. He had it halfway to his mouth before he looked at it and dropped it back to the plate in alarm. You would have thought it tried to bite him rather than vice versa.
Antoine shook his head and reached past the vertically cut sandwich Derek had dropped and delicately handed him a diagonally cut one. “Here you go, friend.”
Glaring at the sandwich like it may betray him, he bit it viciously before going back to the screen he could only see in his mind, seemingly satisfied that the sandwich would not change into the offending shape.
I told you, it matters.
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heartbreakgrill · 3 years
Note
hi bb! could I get a cute zach x reader fic? you can take this in whichever way you like but I was thinking some fluff like a movie night at Zach's or he teaches the reader to play video games? you can do it either way/come up with something of your own too! xxx
Slow Down; Zach Herron
a/n: hope you like it, queen!! 💘
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You knocked gently on your boyfriend’s front door, feeling insecure in your leggings, your sweatshirt, and sneakers. You’d been to the boy’s house before, but this was still only your second time, and you’d never dressed so casually in front of Zach. Your relationship was still fresh- only 8 dates had happened so far- so you were still holding back parts of yourself you were afraid of him seeing. The lazy, messy part of you that some guys were turned off by.
You wrung the sleeve of your sweatshirt between your fingers. The door opened a moment after you knocked, drawing your eyes from your feet. Jonah, tall as a tree, stared down at you, a sleepy smile growing to his dark features.
“Hey, Y/N, good to see you.” Jonah swept an arm through the air and you walked into it’s path.
The house was noisy, as per usual. Lights were on all over, Corbyn and Jack were shouting over the shooting noises of a video game on the tv, music was streaming from the Bluetooth speakers, Tessa sat at the kitchen island. Daniel was probably out in his studio, and his brothers were strewn around the living room, watching Corbyn and Jack beat each other.
You felt so out of place in the group’s familiar Friday routine. Jonah could tell, harboring the same feeling of social anxiety, and gently touched your elbow.
“I’ll go get him, okay?” You’d been in Zach’s room, he must’ve not have been in there, because Jonah walked outside after you nodded.
You busied yourself with removing your sneakers. You squatted and gently set them beside somebody else’s shoes on the rack. You peaked around at the door and shut it all the way. Somebody finally spoke up when you turned back around.
“Oh, hey, Y/N! Come sit,” Corbyn patted the spot next to him on the couch.
“Shit, sorry, we just completely ignored your existence,” Jack added on, laughing into his headset.
“No worries,” you smiled at everybody, carefully stepping over Christian’s legs to sit next to Corbyn.
“How ya doing, Y/N?” Corbyn glanced at you.
You folded your hands. “I’m okay, thanks. How are you?”
Corbyn went to answer when something happened in the video game and everybody yelled. That’s when you noticed Zach making his way across the room. He pushed Christian’s legs out of the way, earning a playful punch to the thigh. You stood up as he did, giggling at the laughter the two boys exchanged.
Zach threw his arms up when he laughed, one of his cutesy quirks that you had learned yet. His hands landed on you- shoulder and hip. He gently pulled you into his chest, your hands moving to his back.
“Hey,” he laughed in your ear, fingers moving to your back, but landing on your mini backpack.
“Hi,” you leaned away. His fingers slid down your shoulder and gently held your fingers.
He tugged you behind him, guiding the two of you to his room. “Sorry I didn’t answer the door. Daniel was having me record something.”
You shrugged, “No worries. I got a warm welcome from everybody.”
Zach sighed, letting go of you to shut the door. You sat on the edge of his bed. He said, “Yeah, they can be overwhelming at first.”
“No!” You disagreed. “They’re all really great. I like the energy.”
Zach smiled at you as he walked over to you. “You look very cuddly.”
Your anxiety settled in your subconscious, no longer a part of your worries. Instead, a blush painted your face. “We have never cuddled before.”
Zach sat beside you, setting a hand on your knee. “We don’t have to.”
“No, I want to,” you assured him, grabbing said hand and squeezing the knuckles. “I know you’re probably used to moving a little faster, but I’m just nervous. I’m sorry.”
Zach shook his head, carefully studying your eyes. He brushed the hair from your face, behind your ears, “I think I need to slow down anyways. With my career and looking back on my past relationships, I think it’ll keep me grounded. You’ll keep me grounded.”
Your stomach whirled with adoration. You found yourself leaning forward and kissing him. It wasn’t your first kiss- actually, it was your second. But it felt like the first. You hoped that feeling would stay.
Zach cupped your cheek, thumb just barely pushing your chin up into him. Your hands found his jaw, fingers molding between his hair. You kissed for a moment longer, and intended to keep going, but someone knocked at the door.
You jumped back from Zach, laughing from your naive fright at the sound. Zach pecked your lips and went to the door.
“Hello?” He opened it towards him, leaning against the door frame.
That was hot.
Jack waved from his side of the door. “Can y’all go pick up the pizza?”
Zach rolled his eyes, huffing. “Really? There’s, like, 10 other people here. Why can’t they?”
“Thought maybe you wanted alone time with your girl,” Jack shrugged. “Also, Jonah and Tessa just left, Daniel is busy, the rest of us are playing a game. Please?”
Zach obviously wasn’t going to argue with his band mate in front of his girl, as jack had put it. So he agreed.
Zach went to the closet as you waited on the bed, picking out a hoodie. He slung it over his head and sat beside you again to put on his shoes. As he did, you told him about something you did earlier that day. He was a good listener and conversation came so well between you two.
Zach stood up, offering you his hand. He pulled you up, purposefully tugging you close to his chest. He held you by the back and kissed you again. You giggled into his mouth, feeling his fingers squirm against your sweatshirt. He pulled away, to your disappointment, and looked at your sweatshirt with furrowed brows.
“No, this won’t do,” he tugged at the hem of your sweatshirt.
You looked at him with utter confusion, “Huh?”
He walked back to his closet, voice echoing from inside. “If you’re gonna be my girl, you gotta wear my sweatshirt.”
He settled back in front of you, holding out the hoodie.
You carefully grabbed it. “Is that you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
Zach tipped his head at the sweatshirt, “Is that you saying yes?”
You answered by taking off what you had on and replacing it with a hoodie that the The Invitation Tour logo on it. You followed Zach out the living room again and sat down on the floor to put on your sneakers while he found his keys. He helped you off the floor, like in his room, and led you to the garage.
He opened your door for you like a gentleman, passing by with a sweet kiss. You let out a deep breath once you were settled in the seat, feeling a weight of emotions in your stomach.
Zach got in and then you guys were gone. The pizza place was ten minutes away, but they didn’t offer delivery because of COVID. And, of course, you forgot your mask. Zach just shrugged it off while you felt bad he carried two pizzas and a bag of 2 liters to the car. He put it all in the back seat before joining you again.
On the way back, Zach told you to put on music. Meanwhile, his hand sneakily found it’s way to your knee. He didn’t want to automatically place it upon your thigh, genuinely meaning what he had said earlier.
You wrapped your hand around his, letting your intertwined fingers rest in your lap. When you got back to the house, Zach didn’t allow you to carry anything again. As soon as the pizzas hit the kitchen counter, the boys went ravenous. Even Daniel appeared from his cave to get food.
You stood off to the side, feeling rude just diving in. Corbyn noticed you and automatically spoke up over the crowd of men.
“Hey! Guys, we should probably let Y/N go first,” he motioned to you.
Your face flushed and you felt your neck started to clam up. “Oh, I’m okay.”
Zach, who was caught up getting cups for everyone, sighed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told them to wait.”
“No, it’s no worries, guys. Please, go ahead,” you insisted again.
Daniel shook his head and handed you a plate, “No, Y/N, go ahead.”
You carefully took it and joined the hoard at the island. You took a single slice of cheese pizza and circled back to your spot.
Christian disagreed with your sad plate, “Oh, cmon. Get another slice, and some chips and a drink.”
You began to protest when they all spoke over each other, insisting. Daniel slapped another slice onto your plate, Corbyn held up two bags of chips in your face, and Zach had already poured your favorite soda into a glass. You tapped on the Dorito’s in Corbyn’s right hand and he poured some on your plate.
You had a restless, wide grin on your face the entire time. “Thank you so much.”
Everybody went back to being savages. Zach quickly got in and got out, leading you back to his room. He crawled across the bed and leaned back on his headboard. You carefully sat beside him as he turned on the television.
“You wanna watch that movie you told me about the other day?” He held out the remote to you.
Your mouth fell agape for a moment and then you nodded. “Yeah- uh, yeah.”
How was he such a good listener?
You found the movie on Netflix and put it on. Zach finished his food quickly, but you ate carefully and slowly. Zach simply layed out on the bed, waiting for you to finish. Once you were done, you stood up from the bed.
Zach paused the movie, “You good?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Wanna give me your plate?” You held out your hand.
Zach jumped up suddenly, grabbing his plate and yours before walking out.. You caught up to his long-legged strides with protests.
“Zach!” You called after him, tugging on the back of his sweatshirt.
He finally turned around after he set everything in the sink. “Yes?”
You tried to glare at him, but his smile was so sweet, you broke into a grin. “I was gonna take them!”
Zach shrugged. “I got it, babe.”
You lifted a finger to point in his face, but froze when the pet name registered. Your face went red again.
Zach’s innocent smile turned even cheekier- if possible. He kissed your cheek and left you standing there. You followed him to his room, stopping him in the middle of the hallway. You tugged him around to face him, practically launching yourself into his arms as you cupped his jaw and kissed him. He held the curve of your back, leaning into the kiss.
You broke off, breathless, with matching smiles. “Wanna finish the movie?” You jerked your head in the direction of his room.
Zach nodded in a less than calm manner and followed you inside. He shut the door, splaying back in his spot on the bed. You carefully lay beside him, resting your head on his bicep, which he extended out beside him. His hand clasped around your shoulder and tugged you into his side. You got comfortable over the span of a few minutes, at first slightly stiff. When you were in position, your leg was tossed over his, your hands on his chest.
The movie ended and you began another before your breathing evened and your eyes couldn’t keep themselves open. Zach noticed and carefully shut off the lights and tv with the remote. He pulled the blanket at the end of the bed over you.
“Want me to take you home?” He whispered into your ear.
You hummed a disagreement back, curling further into him. “Is that okay?” You sleepily said.
Zach responded by kissing your forehead and mumbling a goodnight.
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another-tmnt-writer · 4 years
Text
You Fell From the Sky
Leonardo x Reader
Author: Admin Mo
Prompt: okay this'll sound real dumb bUT- this universe!reader meets bayverse boys? like maybe reader wakes up in the bayverse and is very aware about the turtles? i dunno it sounds confusing but maybe it's an interesting prompt?
Note: I love this concept. I’ve dipped my toes in the water before, but this time, I’m going all the way. Also, I know you didn’t specify a turtle, but I zoned it in on Leo. I can definitely write another if y’all want more because I’m obsessed with this idea. <3
Warnings: Some language…
Word Count: 1.9k
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“Okay, guys, don’t crowd her. I’m sure she’s gonna be disoriented, and-”
“Donnie, is the angel alright? It must have hurt, falling from heaven.”
“Get outta the way, Mikey. Go wash the pizza off your hands.”
“Could we give her some room, please?”
The voices echoed around in your head, which was pounding painfully. You opened your eyes and everything was blurry. You were just about positive you were hallucinating, because when your vision finally started to come into focus, you were surrounded by four very tall, very familiar mutant turtles.
“No fucking way…” you murmured, looking up at each of them. They were even more detailed and lifelike than they were in the movies. Which was to say, very lifelike.
“Not the reaction I expected, but I’ll take it.” Mikey smiled, shifting to present himself to you. “The name’s Michelangelo, but the ladies call me—”
“Mikey, yeah, I know.” You cut him off and he gaped at you, his blue eyes wide.
“Are ya psychic or something?” Raph asked. You stared at him for a long second. His muscles were impossibly large, his eyes just as green as you thought they’d be.
“N-No, not exactly. I…well, I’m pretty sure I’m from an alternate universe. Or something.” You looked at Donnie, who was furiously taking notes and way taller than you expected him to be, and then to Leo, whose arms were crossed, his clear blue eyes analyzing everything you said. “Because where I come from, you guys are fictional.”
“Woah. I did not expect that.” Mikey said, looking at Raph for some sort of reaction from his older brother. “Bro, did you—”
“Shut up for like two seconds.” Raph snapped, his attention turning to you. “Can you say that one more time?”
“You guys are fictional. When I was growing up, I watched your cartoons, collected action figures, read your comics…This is unreal.”
“Comic books?” Donnie inquired.
“Cartoons?!” Mikey’s eyes widened.
You nodded.
“So…you know everything about us?” Leo asked, a twinkle of amusement working its way into his icy gaze. He wasn’t quite convinced yet, but he had to admit you were convincing at the very least.
“I mean, not really. Kind of. Maybe?” You shrugged. “I know you have a bonsai in your room.”
You didn’t think it was possible for them to blush, but after that comment, Leo proved you wrong, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Just about everything then, yeah.”
“So what happened, Donnie? Why am I here?”
Donnie straightened up when you addressed him by name. “Uh, well, I was trying to figure that out, actually. We were out on patrol and there was a bright flash in the sky and you fell from it.”
“Leo caught you even though I called dibs.” Mikey pouted.
“You saved my life.” You gasped and looked up at Leo. “Thank you.”
“I couldn’t just let you fall, ma’am.”
“(Y/N).” You introduced. “My name is (Y/N).”
“Well, (Y/N), I hope ya like the smell of sewer.” Raph chuckled. “If not, you’ll get used to it.”
***
The turtles spent the rest of the day asking you lots of questions about your world and the representations of them that were in it. You told them that the universe they were in was closest to a series of movies by Michael Bay, which, Raph and Mikey found exciting given their love of the Transformers movies.
Leo didn’t say much, but he was always in the room, listening. When night came, Donnie was the first to leave the room, retreating to work in his lab. Then Leo went to his room to sharpen his swords and water his bonsai. Raph went to sleep next, and Mikey stayed up the latest, playing Mariokart with you until pretty close to dawn. You’d almost forgotten that the boys usually slept during the day.
When you were out alone in the living room, Leo came into the room, holding a large knitted blanket and a pillow, a tentative look on his face.
“Hey.” He approached you quietly. “I figured you’d need these. It gets kind of cold down here.”
“Thanks, Leo.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. “I really appreciate you guys letting me crash here.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s the least we could do.” He shook the blanket out and draped it over your legs. “If you need anything, my room is over there.” He pointed back towards where he’d come from.
“Thank you.” You smiled. “I’m sure Donnie will figure this all out soon enough and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Well, you’re welcome to stay for as long as that takes.” Leo smiled and then added, “Good night.”
“Night!”
Once he was gone, you laid down on the couch and stared up into the darkness for a little while, thinking about the events of the day. You were stranded in the Bayverse. And…well, actually, you weren’t all that upset about it.
***
When you opened your eyes the next morning, you half expected it to all have been a dream. I mean, that was the only logical explanation, right? Well, then you took a look around at your surroundings and realized that it was three in the afternoon and you were in the lair instead of your bedroom.
Once you stretched and got your bearings, you got up and walked to the kitchen, where Splinter was pouring tea from a teapot.
“And you must be the girl who fell from the sky.”
You had to stop and admire him for a second. Master Splinter, the boys’ dad, a wealth of endless support and wisdom. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t looked up to him when you were young. Hell, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t look up to him now when you needed advice.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” You were shaking. “I’m not sure if the boys told you where I’m from…”
“They have, yes.” He nodded. “Donatello told me of the alternate universe you came from.”
“You helped me through so much when I was growing up. You all did. It’s really surreal being here.”
Splinter smiled and stroked his beard, that wise twinkle in his eyes. “I’m glad you found your way to us, child. We’ll make your stay here as easy as possible.”
“Thank you.”
“(Y/N), I made eggs.” Leonardo’s voice from behind you scared the hell out of you.
You jumped and turned around, laughing as your racing heart slowed back down to normal.
“Sorry. Do you like eggs?”
“I do, yeah.” You chuckled. “Thank you, Leo.”
“Of course. They’re on the stove.”
“There’s cheese on the counter!!” Mikey added, already sitting at the table. “I saved you a chair over here, angelcakes.”
You had to admit, hearing him say that in person did make your heart flutter a little bit. You put some eggs and toast (with jam, provided by Donatello) on a plate, sprinkled some shredded cheddar on top and settled into the seat Mikey had saved, conveniently located between the youngest brother and the leader in blue.
“So every day, you guys wake up this late?” You asked, still a little bewildered that breakfast was at three in the afternoon.
“That’s just the downside of living in the shadows.” Raph shrugged. “But it ain’t so bad.”
“Right, of course. It’s just different than what I’m used to is all.”
“So what do you do, normally? Like, in your world, I mean.” Donatello asked. He didn’t have his notebook on hand, but you could tell he was taking mental notes.
“Well, I’m a student. I’m in college. I read comics and watch movies, and sometimes I write in my free time.”
“Comics about us?” Mikey raised an eyebrow, smiling knowingly.
Your cheeks burned red and you laughed. “Maaaaaaybe.”
Leo let out a little sigh and shook his head. “That’s still so weird to me.”
“Let me tell you, that’s a two way street.” You chuckled. Even thinking about it was still almost too weird to comprehend. You pulled out your phone, which still worked, fortunately, and went through your photos, scrolling all the way back to Halloween. You held it up to show them. “My roommates and I were you guys for Halloween.”
“And you were Leader Boy, huh?” Raph pointed out. “Noted.”
“I mean, yeah.” You didn’t think your face could get any more red.
“Wait, Leo’s your favorite?” Mikey pouted. “Aww…”
“I don’t think it’s fair to pick favorites. I like all of you guys for different reasons.”
“It’s alright if you admit you had a crush on Leo.” Raph whispered, cupping a hand around his mouth.
“Alright, alright, enough of that. She’s our guest. We’re not gonna grill her. She just got here.” Leo stepped in, a faint blush on his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t get the picture of you in a blue mask with little foam katanas out of his head.
“Right, there’s a two week minimum before we get to grill her.” Donnie added, grinning as he pushed his glasses up his nose.
“Aww, how considerate.” You laughed.
The rest of breakfast was pretty uneventful. You finished eating and then went out to the living room and settled onto the couch. Luckily, your backpack had made the trip over with you, so you had your laptop and some of your homework. Not that you could get online and get in touch with people from your universe, but at least you could get some writing done if you wanted to.
Leo wandered out, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, a soft look in his eyes. He hovered behind you for a few seconds before finally speaking. “Hey.”
Unaware that he had been there, you jumped. “Jesus! You guys are quiet, holy fuck.”
“Sorry about that.” He laughed, carefully sitting on the opposite end of the couch, giving you space, but still sitting close enough to make your heart flutter the teeniest bit. “And, uh, I’m sorry about them earlier. Raph specifically. I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable or—”
“No, it’s fine. Really,” you said. “But thank you for checking. I appreciate it.”
“Of course.” He was quiet for a few moments before he asked. “Do you believe in fate?”
“Until yesterday, I’m not sure I did. But there’s gotta be something like that out there for me to end up here of all places.”
“For the record, I’m glad you ended up here, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. His blue, blue eyes met yours. “Is it selfish if I say I wouldn’t mind if you stuck around for a while?”
“Is it selfish if I agree?” You replied, causing him to laugh.
“Glad we’re on the same page, then.”
“Me too.” You smiled and just spent a few long moments admiring him. The movies truly didn’t do him justice. Honestly, it was the truth: you wouldn’t mind sticking around for a while. For a long while…
Part 2
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cxsmicmyeon · 3 years
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SURPRISE! , kms
kim minseok x fem! reader
IN WHICH minseok wants to spend his 31st birthday at home with his wife and cat but you have other plans that may or may not involve a surprise birthday party. (based on the second prompt from this post by @creativepromptsforwriting​)
genre: married/domestic & non-idol au! fluff, humor word count: 3.0k warnings: swearing, light sexual references/jokes, implied sexual content (it gets a tad spicy at times but nothing explicit), chaos, minseok’s butt being The Bomb Dot Com™ (sorry not sorry)
author’s note: happy birthday to my ray of sunshine, kim minseok! i love you so so much darling, i hope your day is filled with so much happiness and celebration. hope this lil piece can help y’all celebrate min’s 31st with me <3 it’s not the 26th yet where i live lmao but it is in korea so yeah! once again have a happy happy birthday minseok, i love you endlessly and forever. <33 MOODBOARD MADE BY ME. I DON’T OWN THE IMAGES, I ONLY OWN MY EDITING. feedback and notes are greatly appreciated <3
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One day.
One day until Minseok’s birthday, and you were scrambling from bakery to bakery to try and get the perfect cake for him. There were flaws in every place you’ve been: too expensive, the designs were not creative enough, blah blah blah. You wanted his day to be as perfect as possible, and what would be the point of that if the cake was nothing but?
Everything else was all ready. You invited all of yours and his closest friends to your house the night of Minseok’s birthday for a surprise party. You planned on keeping Minseok out of the house for the entire day as your friends decorated the house. 
He didn’t want a party. He made that abundantly clear to you as soon as March began. He incessantly told you that all he wanted was a day off from teaching so he could spend the whole day with you and your cat. All he wanted was a nice and relaxing day with his wife. You understood, obviously. But you also wanted to go all out and throw a surprise birthday bash for your husband celebrating his thirty-first year on Earth. Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Jongdae’s incessant whining and begging for an excuse to have a party only aided in your need to have a party.
You ended up settling with a simple Carvel ice cream cake from the frozen section of the grocery store. You made a mental note to ask Yixing to write out “Happy Birthday Minseok” the next day as you left the store.
You came home to your husband holding a feather toy over your cat, Tan’s head. She pawed at the red feather, always at the cusp of grabbing it before Minseok moved the line away from her. He cooed at the animal, making soft kissing sounds as he continued to play with her.
Realizing that he may see the cake, you tucked the grocery bag under your shirt in an attempt to hide it from him, shivering at the cold contact the frozen treat made with your skin. The rustling of the plastic bag caused Minseok to look up at you. He gave you a gummy smile as you walked past him and Tan.
“Well hello to you too, honey. What’s under your shirt?” Minseok asked playfully, wiggling his eyebrows as he made eye contact with your chest. You realized that hiding the bag did not do much to hide the cake, as the shape of the large box combined with the plastic grocery bag greatly protruded from the fabric of your shirt. 
“Nothing, it’s for tomorrow. Don’t wanna ruin the surprise, hm?” you mused, blowing him an air kiss before retreating to your office. He "caught” your kiss with a smile before going back to playing with Tan.
You entered your office and placed the plastic bag onto your desk. You ran to lock the door before opening the bag and taking the cake out, sighing in relief that the cake did not get ruined. You bent down to your mini-fridge and opened the small door of the freezer compartment and placed the cake inside, glad that it could fit inside. After locking the fridge, you exited your office and made your way downstairs to spend time with your loving husband.
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You awoke the next day curled up in Minseok’s arms. You cuddled closer to him before jolting upwards in realization. Today was finally the day! You bent down and began showering your sleeping husband with excited kisses, trailing a hand down his bicep. He let out a sleepy groan as he stirred, wrapping his strong arms around your figure.
“Aah, what’s gotten into you baby?” he asked, his voice hoarse from just waking up. 
“Happy birthday, Min!” you beamed, pecking him on the lips. He grinned tiredly as he kissed you on the lips.
“Mmmh, thank you honey.” You grinned as you kissed him again. This kiss lasted longer than the previous ones and slowly yet surely grew more heated. You moved yourself so you were straddling him, not breaking the kiss. He hummed against your lips as you slid your hand underneath his shirt, fingertips grazing his toned stomach. He groaned as his hands made their way down to your ass, squeezing harshly. You bit back a moan as you slowly slid his shirt up his chest, breaking the kiss to ogle at his abs.
“Babe... don’t we need to get ready?” Minseok groaned as you pulled the shirt over his head. You latched your lips onto his neck and softly bit down, eliciting a raspy moan from your husband.
“Shh, let me give you your first gift.” you purred, moving your hands toward the waistband of his boxers.
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The mall was packed to the brim with people from all different walks of life. Gossiping teenagers, sleep-deprived parents following their energetic kids around, old couples window shopping, you name it. You walked through the giant Macy’s and into the main hub of the mall hand in hand with Minseok. 
Since you started dating, it has been a tradition for you to buy each other’s gifts the day of your respected birthdays. You’d usually scour Amazon or websites of your favorite brands all day and end up splurging half your monthly paychecks on each other. But on occasion, today included, you’d take your shopping day to the local mall as a means to get out of your apartment and actually go out for once. 
After an... eventful... morning, you rushed to get dressed and usher your husband out of the house, since the boys were coming over at 11, and it was 10:55 by the time you got into the car and sped away toward the mall.
You pointed out a newly opened jewelry store and pulled Minseok inside with you. You looked at him lovingly as he browsed the display of a multitude of different rings. He’d softly mutter to himself as he picked up ring after ring: trying to see what would look best next to his wedding band, what the right price was, if the store even provided the correct size. You loved how organized he was.
Your silent admiring was interrupted by the familiar chime of your phone, indicating you got a text message. You let out a sigh as soon as you saw who the message was from.
operation minseok’s 31st🥳
jun-bug: (y/n) we have a problem (y/n): oh god what happened yee-xing: baekhyun dropped the cake (y/n): he did what bacon: cant u read (y/n) i dropped the fucking cake 11 minutes late: no need to be rude xoxo (y/n): yeah baek u don’t want me to leave my stunning husband inside the jewelry store, come home and mutilate you for dropping his cake and get arrested on his special day (: kyung-soup: oddly specific but i’m here for it jong-waeeee: off topic but the sign says “minseop” instead of “minseok” (y/n): jun, yixing and kyungsoo you better get this settled or else i’m gonna kill all of you nini bear: yes ma’am ofc ma’am we will do this correct chain-yeol: yeah i don’t wanna die today
“Everything okay?”
You quickly locked your phone and threw it inside your purse before making eye contact with Minseok. You nodded a bit too quickly, panic washing over you like a giant wave from the ocean.
“Yeah, everything’s dandy.” you sputtered. Oh, why did this have to happen right now? You silently prayed that everything was going to go well. It had to.
“You sure?”
“Positive. Did you choose something?” Minseok nodded as he handed you a box with a simple black titanium ring. You nodded in approval as he led you to the register.
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Your next stop was at Express. You were dying to pick out some new work clothes for him to try on. You assured him (and yourself) that he needed these new pants and this was totally not an excuse for you to check him out.
“Okay, I’ve got three pairs of pants that I think would look absolutely amazing on you and I want you to go try ‘em on.” you said, handing Minseok three hangers. Each hanger had a pair of slacks in different colors hanging from them. He took them from you, shooting you a smirk before walking inside the fitting room stall.
Your eyes widened as Minseok opened the door of the stall. The pants fit absolutely perfectly. The way the fabric hugged his perfect thighs, the color complimenting his white undershirt (which you imagined to be one of his famous white button-downs), it left you practically swooning.
“What do you think?” 
You let out a hum in approval before motioning for him to turn around. “Lemme see the goods, hun.” He rolled his eyes before turning around. Your eyes landed on his butt, making you swoon for real. You covered your mouth to hide your obvious enjoyment of the sight before you. And it didn’t help when he gave his butt a mini shake. Still, you couldn’t help but squeal softly.
“You sure today’s not your birthday?” Minseok teased. You tutted as you stood from your spot and walked up to him, giving his butt a light pinch before wrapping your arms around his neck.
“With you, every day’s my birthday.” you answered, giving him a peck on the lips.
“Ugh, I think you ate too much of that egg and cheese for breakfast today.”
“You know you love me.”
“That I do, darling.” Minseok mused before closing the distance between you two. You tangled your hands in his silky black hair as you savored the heavenly taste of his lips. You felt his hands grab your ass as you deepened the kiss, tugging at his hair in response.
As you kissed, you heard your phone chime the same chime that indicated a text from the boys. You decided to ignore it and continue making out with your husband until the phone went off four more times. You scoffed as you broke the kiss, fishing inside of your purse to grab it.
“Is everything okay, hun?” Minseok asked.
“Yeah, fine. Just crap from, uh, ‘work,’” you lied, unlocking the phone. “Go try on the other pants.” Minseok nodded before walking back to the stall. Once the door was closed and locked, you looked down at your messages, worry washing over you once again. What the hell happened now?
operation minseok’s 31st🥳
yee-xing: oh christ yee-xing: (y/n) (y/n) (y/n) jun-bug: you gotta help us yee-xing: please kyung-soup: i am going to kill park chanyeol like my life depends on it (y/n): what the everloving shit happened this time chain-yeol: um i sneezed all over the cake kyung-soup: the custom one u got on wednesday btw (y/n): you. sneezed. on. the. CAKE????? chain-yeol: IM SORRY chain-yeol: I WAS TRYING TO STOP BAEKHYUN FROM KNOCKING IT OVER AND I SAVED IT BUT THEN I SNEEZED nini bear: ur so gross chain-yeol: you too (y/n): i spent 100 dollars on that cake and you fucking sneeze on it?? (y/n): jfc i’m here busy admiring my husband’s sweet sweet ass and u guys are telling me the cake’s ruined? i will murder u all i swear jong-waeeee: ew i don’t wanna hear about minseok’s ass (y/n): shut the fuck up sign ruiner jong-waeeee: I GOT A NEW ONE THOUGH jong-waeeee: YOU’RE SO MEAN bacon: WAIT bacon: (Y/N) WE’LL PAY FOR ANOTHER ONE  (y/n): baekhyun you sweet summer child (y/n): I HAD TO PRE-ORDER THAT CAKE 2 WEEKS IN ADVANCE YOU WALNUT bacon: oh bacon: my bad 11 minutes late: W8 W8 I GOT U 11 minutes late: WE CAN STILL EAT IT 11 minutes late: I’LL SPRAY SOME LYSOL ON IT jun-bug: SEHUN DON’T YOU DARE (y/n): sehun honey that just contaminates it even more (y/n): but thank you for trying 11 minutes late: xoxo i try my best yee-xing: how ‘bout we just buy more carvel cakes to match the one you got yesterday up to 100 dollars so it maxes out (y/n): yeah alright fine (y/n): thanks xing ur a life saver (y/n): but don’t throw away the ruined cake i wanna show min what he could have missed out on if CHANYEOL DIDN’T FUCKING SNEEZE ON IT (y/n): WHO SNEEZES ON A CAKE nini bear: only chanyeol (y/n): yep, only chanyeol chain-yeol: y’all are mean. kyung-soup: what u get for sneezing on the cake
You locked your phone, letting out an exasperated sigh. You swore if anything else happened today, you were going to march all the way back home and kill those men. You massaged your temples with your fingers as a means to alleviate your stress. All you wanted was for everything to be perfect for the party; Minseok deserved nothing less than that. 
The door of the stall opened, revealing Minseok wearing nothing but the new pair of navy slacks and a devilishly handsome smirk. His smile faded when he saw you with your hands over your face, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down from your stress. He quickly pulled his undershirt on and rushed over to you, wrapping his arms around you comfortingly. With a sigh, you buried your face in his chest, your stress starting to wash away as he began stroking your hair.
You stayed like that for about ten minutes. You eventually calmed down, silently reassuring yourself that everything was going to be fine. You were glad that Minseok did not try to ask you anything since you were afraid you were going to let slip what was waiting for him when you arrive home later in the day. 
You let out a small sniffle as you pressed a small kiss on your husband’s exposed shoulder. “I’m so sorry I brought down your mood, Min. The p- ‘w-work,’ is just annoying right now. It’s your birthday, it’s supposed to be a good day.” you mumbled, looking down at your hands.
“Shh, don’t you worry your little head about it,” Minseok assured, kissing your forehead. He tilted your head up and pressed his lips against yours. “All I want is for my baby to be happy today.” You gave him a weak smile and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling so lucky to have him in your life.
“C’mon, let’s go to the food court. All this stress made me hungry.” you joked, standing from your spot. 
“Good idea,” Minseok gave you another kiss before walking back into the changing stall to change back into his regular clothes. “Oh, by the way, buy the pants.” You pumped a fist into the air as you took the hanging articles of clothing into your hands.
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You were lucky (and frankly surprised) that nothing else had managed to go wrong today. You were suspicious that you hadn’t gotten any panic-stricken texts from Yixing or Junmyeon, but you couldn’t complain about that. Just to be sure though, you quickly texted Kyungsoo to give you a final update on the state of your house. You sighed in relief when he responded with pictures of your living room, kitchen and backyard decorated just how you envisioned it to be. You sent Kyungsoo a text back thanking him and everyone else profusely for their help.
The clock struck 5, indicating that it was time for you and Minseok to go home. The two of you exited the mall, arms filled with different shopping bags from all the stores you went to during the day. After putting your bags into the backseat of your car, you opened the passenger side of the car and slid in.
“Hm, I was thinking of ordering from that ramen place we tried last week. It was really good, don’t you remember?” Minseok suggested, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.
“How ‘bout we wait ‘till we get home to... eat.” you responded, a shit-eating grin almost making its way onto your face.
Minseok hummed softly. “I just wanna spend the rest of the night with you and Tan at home, I hope no one’s planning a surprise party for me,” You tensed slightly at his words, looking out the window to avoid his gaze.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, hun.” You lied. He shrugged, intertwining his fingers with yours. 
When Minseok pulled into your driveway, you shot a quick text to the boys, telling them that you were home. You exited the car quickly, grabbing most of the shopping bags and taking Minseok by the arm, dragging him to the front door.
“Whoa, what’s gotten into you?” he chuckled as you struggled to get your keys out of your purse. Once you got them out and put the house key into the lock, you turned to Minseok and pressed your lips onto his.
“Happy birthday, Min. I love you so much. And I’m so sorry.” you unlocked the front door and pushed it open. You saw Minseok’s eyes widen at the sight of your home. It was filled to the brim with decorations and all of your closest friends holding gifts, balloons and tons of different ice cream cakes. 
“SURPRISE!” everyone exclaimed. Minseok’s jaw dropped as he fully took in everything that was happening. He looked over to you with a sly smile, to which you responded with a small shrug.
“I had to, come on.” You giggled, kissing him on the cheek. 
“It’s okay, hun. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.” Minseok cupped your face into his hands and pressed his lips onto yours.
“Gross, get a room!” you heard Baekhyun scream. You pulled away from Minseok to flip the younger off.
“Oh! I need to show you the cake I initially got for you but was unfortunately ruined because Chanyeol sneezed on it. Jun, is it in the fridge?” you pulled Minseok in the direction of the kitchen as Junmyeon confirmed the location of the cake.
“He... huh?”
“It was an accident!” Chanyeol whined. You laughed softly to yourself at his childish reaction.
Tonight was gonna be fun.
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Owe You One - Part 4
Title: Owe You One - Jefferson’s Starship
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 7,067
Warnings: Minor Angst, Sexual Harassment, Self-Loathing, Anxiety, Fluff, Smut, Friends with Benefits
Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?
Owe You One - Masterlist
Squares Filled: Bartender!AU ( @spndeanbingo) FWB Relationship ( @spnfluffbingo)
A/N: Part 4!! I hope y’all enjoy this part!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! Happy reading!!  
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 You stirred away at the pot you had on the stove, getting dinner ready for yourself. It was Friday night, and you had just gotten home from work about half an hour ago. You changed into your comfortable pyjamas before deciding to cook yourself a nice dinner. You were going to curl up on the couch for a little while and maybe turn in early. You had nothing extensive planned. Nothing but your PVR and previous episodes of The Walking Dead to catch up on.
 You reached for a bowl in the cupboard next to you, placing it on the counter before pouring your pasta into it. You heard three loud knocks at your door, pulling you from your meal for a moment. You placed it back down on the stove before heading over to the door, opening it up. You rolled your eyes with a smile when you found Dean standing there with a smile playing on his lips. You walked away from the door, letting him walk in without protest.
 “You want something to eat? I made enough pasta for two,” you pointed out. “Four cheese.”
 “Oh fuck yes,” he nodded, taking a seat at your counter. You reached in the cupboard, grabbing another bowl before pouring some into it. You took two forks out of the drawer, bringing Dean’s bowl over first before your own. You hopped on the chair next to him, looking forward to tasting your meal.
 “Thank you for this,” he smiled, taking a forkful.
 “You’re welcome,” you beamed, taking your own bite.
 “So what are you up to tonight?” he asked nonchalantly.
 “Stuff,” you answered smuggly. “What do you want?”
 “How do you know I want something?” he claimed, his voice went up half an octave.
 “Because you didn’t call or text before coming over tonight. You usually do if you just want to hang out for the night. So I’ll ask again, what do you want, Winchester?” you chuckled.
 “Okay, I have a huge favour to ask and seen as how you’re wearing your cute comfy pyjamas, I know you aren’t doing anything tonight. I also know for a damn fact that you would never let any guy see you in those so you’re not getting laid tonight.”
 “Thank you! I get the point,” you scoffed playfully, taking another bite.
 “I need help at the bar tonight. Sammy’s gonna be late and all I’ve got is Benny. You’re the only one that I can trust,” he stated. “I’ll pay you, of course. And whatever tips you make are yours.”
 “So you want me to bartend at Jefferson’s Starship tonight and I get paid?” you chuckled. “Actual money?”
 “What, you think I’m going to pay you in sex again?” he laughed, shaking his head. “‘Cause I can if you want me to. A little touchy touchy-”
 “Shut up, Dean,” you giggled, shoving him a little. “How late do I have to stay?”
 “Just until Sam gets in,” he assured you. “Not all night.”
 “Alright, let me eat. Then I’ll go get changed. You’re lucky I like you,” you side-eyed him.
 “I owe you big time,” he breathed out in relief. “Like huge, sweetheart.”
 “I’ll take you up on it at some point,” you winked. “Really though, you don’t owe me anything. Remember, you helped me out of a very low point. That isn’t easy.”
 “I still owe you a little. You literally never go out to the bar,” he pointed out with a sad smile.
 “You are more than right. Remember that,” you winked. “How was your day anyways?”
 “Eh, it was okay. Pretty busy as usual. I kept to myself at my station. My dad worked on what he needed to do. I fixed up a couple of cars and got all my paperwork done so I don’t have to do any this weekend. Fresh start Monday morning,” he explained to you. “How was your day?”
 “It was okay. Boring as hell, but that’s my job for you,” you shrugged.
 “So you were going to use this time to unwind, huh?” he said sheepishly. You could see the guilt he felt sores across his features. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
 “It’s okay, De. I should probably try to get out more anyways. Sitting at home alone isn’t going to do me any good,” you breathed out.
 “I mean, you’re not entirely wrong. Sometimes alone time is what you need. But in this case, you’re coming out. Not to mention, I own the bar,” he smirked.
 “Yeah yeah,” you tried not to smile.
 You managed to eat your pasta in record time. You figured you’d do the dishes in the morning after your breakfast. You knew Dean had to be there soon, and you didn’t want to leave him or Benny screwed. This was a job for you and you were going to work with professionalism.
 You grabbed something comfortable and presentable to wear to the bar. A pair of dark skinny jeans with a rip in the knee. You pulled on one of your white shirts and threw one of your red flannels over it to keep with the Winchester look. After that, you grabbed your comfortable boots and your bag, heading out the door with Dean by your side.
 Dean opened up your door for you and you slipped inside. There was a part of you that wondered if this was a good idea. After all, he and his brother owned this bar; his family. Last you knew, his family hated you. All but Dean. You didn’t want Sam to walk in and kick you out or worse, yell at you in front of everyone. You didn’t want to ruin their business. This was important to both of them because they started it together. You weren’t going to be the one to come between them. You were simply going to help your friend out and go on your way home. If Dean wanted to join you later, that was fine. But you weren’t supposed to mix business with pleasure.
 Dean parked in his designated spot out the back of the bar. There was a spot for him and a spot for Sam. No one else had access to park back here. You kicked your door open, circling around the car to the front. Dean motioned for you to follow him to the doors around the front of the building.
 The second you walked into the empty bar, you smiled to yourself. This bar wasn’t like any of the bars you had been in and you had been in many of them during your college days. They wanted their place to feel like home in some sense. There was a jukebox in the corner that played only classic rock. Lots of room for people to dance. Enough tables for people to sit. Booths for those who had bigger groups. Couches and chairs set up around the tv. By the actual bar, he had stools set up all around and a tv up on the wall so people could watch from there. He had all his liquor on display and coasters stacked, ready to go. All his glassware was branded with the bar's name, and a cowboy hat. This place was something to be really proud of, that was for certain.
 “Well well, look who it is,” Benny smiled. “I’ll be damned if it isn’t miss Y/N walking in for the first time in forever.”
 “Hi Benny,” you grinned
 “Hiya darlin,” he beamed. “What can I get for you tonight?”
 “I’m working tonight,” you told him, circling around the back of the bar. “Boss needed and extra set of hands.”
 “If you need help with anything, Y/N, just let one of us know. I know you know what you’re doing,” Dean nodded.
 “You’re damn right I do,” you said confidently. You grabbed an apron from the shelf beneath the cash register. You had a notepad, a pen and a cloth in there, ready to get to work. It had been a long time since you had stepped foot behind a bar, but you were sure you were going to snap right back into it pretty quickly. “Let’s do this.”
 It wasn’t long before people flooded into the bar. Some people just getting off work, having a drink to wind down. Others coming in in groups. The three of you worked in a perfect sync with one another. Pouring and mixing drinks the fastest you could get them to the customers in a timely manner. In record time, you had about fifty dollars in tips. The night was just getting started.
 You glanced around the room as soon as the first rush died out. Everyone was distracted in some way. A group of guys watching a game on the couch by the tv. A few women sitting at a table, gossiping about their week and their husbands. Then there was a few loners sitting at the bar, sipping away at a beer or a glass of whiskey. Trying to unwind after the week. You wiped down the counter top.
 “Hey there,” a man greeted you, taking a seat at the counter right in front of you. His smile was wide as he placed his hands on the countertop.
 “What can I get for you?” you asked, taking a deep breath as you tucked your cloth back in your apron.
 “Your phone number for starters,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows twice. You wanted to scoff but you were working. You weren’t about to ruin Dean’s business because some guy decided to hit on you. Not to mention, he wasn’t that cute. A man like him would be just like the rest of them. They’d get off and you’d be left finishing yourself off in the shower. You weren’t doing that again.
 “Your drink order, sir?” you corrected him, trying to keep your tone in check.
 “Whiskey neat,” he stated. “And that phone number.”
 “Whiskey it is,” you declared, putting the glass down on the napkin in front of him. You reached for the bottle of whiskey behind you, knowing full well he was staring at your ass. He was treating you like you were easy and that wasn’t okay with you. You weren’t doing that anymore. No more shitty guys.
 “Don’t play hard to get, baby,” he frowned. “I saw you eyeing me the second I walked in here tonight.”
 “Enjoy your drink,” you said, your voice void of all emotions. You walked away from him, taking your cloth once more before heading out to the customers area to begin cleaning up empty glasses and bottles. Dean and Benny were still working behind the counter, serving people. It had slowed down a little more. They still had the odd person come up to them.
 You wiped down every table, gathering all the empties. You snapped back into bartender mode pretty quickly. It was something you had done for years during your college years. Dean ran a really nice bar. Everything was really clean, but you also had a feeling that his brother had something to do with it. You took note of what needed replenishing to bring it out during your next trip. You gathered up what you could, placing it on the bar to move to the back when you had the chance to. You wiped down your last table before heading to the back. You could feel the creepy guy’s eyes on you and that told you to move quicker.
 “Baby c’mere,” he cooed, standing up. Your heart began to pound in your chest. You needed to move quickly.
 “Not interested,” you stated clearly, backing away from him. He was a big guy now that you saw him compared to you. He was tall and had a strong build. His hand made its way down to your ass, tugging you into him against your will. You tried your hardest to shove him off of you, but he barely budged. “Get off of me!”
 “Hey! Hey!” Dean shouted, making his way around the bar. “Hands off of her. Now!”
 “We were just getting to know each other, right baby?” He smirked, tugging you in once more. Hearing him say those words only angered you more.
 You pushed him once more, successfully getting him off of you, but not getting as far as you would have liked. “Get the fuck off of me.”
 Dean stepped between you and the douchebag, getting in his face a little more. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched that he was pissed. When Dean was pissed, no one wanted to be near him.
 “House rules. Respecting others, especially women is the second on that list. Sexual harassment is unacceptable. Get the fuck out of my bar,” he warned him, “I’m not going to ask you again.”
 “Whatever, she’s a cheap piece of ass anyways,” he scoffed, throwing down a bill on the counter before grabbing his jacket, heading to the door.
 “You okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked as he turned to face you. His hand came up to the side of your head.
 “Yeah,” you nodded.
 “You want a drink,” he offered you, smiling softly.
 “No thank you. I’m good,” you smiled before heading around the back of the bar to finish cleaning up. You also knew you’d be safer behind the bar and that was where you wanted to be.
 “You sure, darlin’?” Benny raised his eyebrow. “I can make you a mean drink.”
 “I’m sure. I don’t drink,” you stated, placing the empty bottles in the bin.
 “Since when?” Dean furrowed his brows. “We got drunk together a few months back.”
 “Since whenever,” you shrugged.
 “I feel like there is more behind this then you’re leading on,” Benny side-eyed you with a bit of concern.
 “There is, but we’re dropping this now, okay?” you smiled, heading over to the counter to serve the next customer.
 As you handed the customer their drink, Sam walked into the bar. His hair was a bit of a mess and he looked to be in a bit of a rush. You stiffened a little. After all, Sam had to know all about you now. His mom had to have said something to him. He had always been nice to you, but that was back then. There was a whole other side to you and your family now. Sure, Sam was nice, but he wasn’t going to be happy you were here if he knew anything.
 “Hey,” Dean greeted his brother. “How’d it go?”
 “Good,” he smiled to himself. “Place is picked out and booked. We officially have a date.”
 “Don’t leave me in suspense, Sammy. Wedding date now,” Dean chuckled, wiping down a glass.
 “September 15th,” he grinned widely, reaching his hand up to the back of his head.
 “I’ll save the date,” he nodded with a big smile. “Congratulations, little brother!”
 “Thanks, De,” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
 You stood behind the bar awkwardly, not knowing if you should say something, or go do something else. You didn’t want to be in the way of him. This was his business too. You pulled your cloth back out, and decided to head back out to the floor to wipe down the tables again.  
 “Dean, what is she doing here?” you heard Sam say.
 “She’s helping us out because I asked her to,” Dean stated.
 “Dean, you know-”
 “Sam-”
 “No Dean, if mom or dad was to walk in right now, you’d be in so much shit,” he stated. That was your queue. You weren’t welcomed and you weren’t going to ruin a family business. You had no idea why you even agreed to in the first place. Mary told you that you were never going to be good enough for her family. Why did you think you’d be good enough to work at her son’s bar?
 “Sorry,” you breathed out, as you untied your apron. “I’m- I’m gonna go, Dean. I don’t want to ruin your business or your relationship with your family. You don’t have to pay me for tonight.”
 “Y/N, wait,” Dean called out as you began to walk away.
 “Dean, it’s cool,” you nodded, assuring him it was.
 “No, it’s not cool, Y/N. I invited you here tonight,” Dean declared, walking over to you. “My mom and dad don’t own this bar. Sammy and I do. I’ll tell you again. I don’t care who your mom is or was to my parents. I care about you and who you are to me. If Sammy has a problem with it, then he can stow it for tonight. You are welcome in this bar.” His hands made their way to your arms, holding you in place.
 “Dean, I’m not worth the trouble, okay?” you smiled weakly, pulling the few bills out of your pocket, handing them to him. “This is yours.”
 “No, they are yours. You earned them tonight. All tips are yours,” he stated.
 “Y/N, please stay,” Sam called out.
 “Please, sweetheart,” Dean pleaded, holding his hand out for you to take. “You’re off the clock. Just hang out with us for a little while. You said you needed to get out more.”
 “You want a drink Y/N?” Sam offered, grabbing a clean glass from beneath the counter.
 “Okay,” you nodded. “Water would be great.”
 “W-water?” Sam furrowed his brows.
 “She doesn’t drink,” Benny added in.
 “Ah, okay,” Sam nodded.
 You walked around the bar, taking a seat on the stool behind the bar. Sam placed a glass of water with a few ice cubes on the counter in front of you, giving you a soft smile. You knew he was trying to keep a smile on his face to keep you around for the night. It was forced at best.
 “So, no guy in your life right now, Y/N?” Benny questioned you. “You usually have someone-”
 “Nope, I don’t. Not right now,” you smiled at him, bringing your water up to your lips. Great, even Benny knew you got around, you thought to yourself.
 “You want someone? ‘Cause you know, I’m single and you’re-”
 “Benny, knock it off,” Dean warned him. “She doesn’t need another guy hitting on her tonight. House rules.”
 “What? ‘M I not good enough for you,” he teased playfully before serving the next customer.
 “You’re not my type,” you giggled. “My track record states that I only go for dicks. You’re a nice guy.”
 “So Y/N, I gotta ask,” Sam started, taking another stool, sitting close by. “I know you grew up with your mom-”
 “Sam,” Dean called out, his voice laced with a bit of anger.
 “It’s okay Dean,” you assured him.
 “Was it just you and your mom or was your dad ever around?” he questioned. You knew he was curious, and he didn’t seem to want to cause any harm to you. It was a simple question. Nothing you hadn’t been asked a hundred times before.
 “No. It was just me and my mom. I never knew my dad, in fact, I’ve never met him or know his name for that matter. My mom always told me he didn’t want anything to do with me and that was why he wasn’t around. He didn’t want me and that’s why it was the two of us. I have no idea who my dad is, or if he’s even alive at this point. I never knew anything about him,” you shared with him.
 “Were you ever curious?” Dean added in, stepping closer to you and Sam.
 “Yeah, of course I was. I grew up without a dad. The kids at school were terrible to me because I didn’t have one,” you began. “I mean, look at me now. I’m a mess ninety five percent of the time. I just wish my mom would’ve been straight with me. But at the same time, my mom slept around a lot. She had a new boyfriend every month. I doubt she even knew who my dad was.”
 “Do you think she was hiding it from you?” Sam brought up.
 “In some ways, yeah. I asked her when I was eighteen, before I left for college and she said there was no point. My dad was probably dead.”
 “If you ever wanted to find out more, Y/N, I’m sure I could do a little digging for you,” Sam offered you. It was a kind gesture but it wasn’t worth it.
 “I’m not worth that kind of trouble, Sam. I don’t want to cause any more issues with your family than I already have.”
 “Your mom’s issues weren’t your fault, sweetheart,” Dean reminded you.
 “Dean’s right, Y/N. What your mom did in the past has nothing to do with you. It bugs the hell out of my mom because you look like her. It’s still wrong that she treated you the way she did. You’re nothing like your mom,” Sam said with a sad smile. It was really nice to hear those words coming from Sam. Especially now that you were here. You didn’t want him to hate you like his family did.
 “Okay,” you breathed out. “I’m giving you the okay to take a look. It can’t hurt to find out my family history. And I’m curious as to what my mom hid from me all my life. But I don’t want to make any contact if we find out who it is.” In reality, it was probably good to find out in case you had a family history of cancer or something like that. It was too late now to ever have a father daughter relationship like you dreamed about when you were ten.
 “Deal. You are always welcome to change your mind later on, okay?”
 “Thank you,” you smiled softly at him. “Means a lot to me that you want to do this.”
 “Well well, look who decided to show up for work,” Dean greeted the two people as they walked in.
 “I thought you were short tonight, De?” you furrowed your brows.
 “Chuck and Cas work later so we can go home at a decent hour,” he told you. Both of them walked behind the bar, settling their stuff underneath the cash.
 “Hey,” a man with curly-ish hair greeted you. “I’m Chuck.”
 “Y/N,” you waved at him.
 “So uh, how you doin’?” he wiggled his eyebrows.
 “Chuck,” Dean warned him, shaking his head.
 “Oh shit, sorry. Is she your-”
 “No she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend,” he stated, earning a chuckle from both you and Sam. Dean was very protective over you, and you actually kind of liked that he was.
 “Oh god, that’s worse,” he breathed out sheepishly. “It was very nice to meet you, Y/N.”
 “You ready to head out, Y/N?” Dean offered with a smile.
 “God, yes please!” you beamed, hopping off your stool.
 “I’ll grab your number from Dean,” Sam nodded, giving you a wink. Dean grabbed his jacket as you circled around the bar for the last time. You couldn’t wait to go home and change into your pyjamas. You couldn’t wait to be in the privacy of your apartment so you could finally unwind for the night.
 Dean followed behind you as you lead the way to the impala. It was just after eleven when you looked at the clock in the impala as Dean started her up. It was a long night, and some parts of it sucked, but for the most part, you were glad you did it with Dean there. His friends were also nice people to be around so that certainly helped.
 “You did good tonight,” he smiled at you as he turned out of the parking lot.
 “What can I say, I’m an ex bartender,” you chuckled. “Thanks for asking me to come out tonight.”
 “You’re welcome,” he nodded.
 “If you’re up for it, you wanna hang out at my place for a bit?” you asked him. “Only if you want to.”
 “Yeah, I’d love to,” he agreed.
 It was almost eleven thirty by the time you arrived at your front door with the keys in your hand. Dean stood right behind you, keeping a close distance. You figured after that creepy guy at the bar tonight, he was keeping you close in case something was to happen. You really did enjoy how protective he was of you. He had been ever since that day the two of you made up. It was nice to have someone want to keep you safe from harms way.
 You threw your keys on the counter as soon as you walked in. Dean locked the door behind him and kicked off his shoes on the front mat. You leaped onto the couch, flopping down on your back, earning a laugh from your best friend.
 “Long night, huh?” he said as he sat down next to you.
 “Very! I love being hit on by creepy guys. It’s my favourite,” you joked, moving up to a sitting position to give him more room on the couch. Your couch was big enough for two people to sleep on, but Dean just had to sit close to you.
 “You used to enjoy guys like that,” he teased you.
 “Eh, I wouldn’t say I enjoyed them. I prefer guys with a little more respect. Not guys that grope my ass in a crowded bar while I’m working,” you breathed out. “I don’t know. Lately I haven’t been interested.”
 “In what?” he cocked his head to the side, looking over at you.
 “Dating. Men in general,” you shrugged, leaning against the arm of the couch. “Too much to focus on and I’m a mess most days.”
 “Not even sex for you?” he questioned.
 “Eh,” you smirked. “I’ve got my own ways of handling things in that department. It’s not like any of the guys I slept with before knew what they were doing. I’m just not wasting my time.”
 “Good,” he grinned. “You deserve better than that.”
 “What about you, Winchester? You’re nearly as bad as I am for taking random people home,” you pointed out.
 “Not as of recently,” he confessed, looking down at his hands. “Part of it is how busy I’ve been. No one has really caught my eye. Everyone these days are dating, and settling down. After Cassie, I don’t really want to date right now. Especially since she left things open for when she gets back.”
 “I don’t blame you,” you nodded. “Would you get back together with her if she were to show up at your door right now?”
 “Deep question there, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since we broke up. Not even an email. If she were to knock on my door, I don’t think I could just settle back in like nothing happened.”
 “That’s understandable,” you nodded. “At least you’ve moved on a little. We slept together.”
 “You’re the last person I slept with,” he admitted.
 “You’re my last too,” you nodded. “We’re doing awesome. Although, I certainly can’t complain. You were damn good. You kept up your end of the bargain beautifully.”
 “Well, technically I owe you one for tonight,” he joked with a smirk. “I know how to drive a good bargain.”
 “I’m down if you are,” you wiggled your eyebrows with a soft smile.
 “Actually?” he cocked his eyebrow.
 “What’s the harm?” you shrugged. “Not like we haven’t before.”
 “I’m definitely in if you are,” he nodded. “No pressure at all. Only if you want to.”
 “You’re too nice to me, you know that?” you smiled at him as you moved over. You threw your leg over his legs, settling down over his lap. His hands instantly reached for your waist as his eyes went wide.
 “I wouldn’t say nice,” he breathed out. “I just care ‘bout you is all.”
 “Well, thank you. I really appreciate that you care,” you smiled. “I care ‘bout you too.”
 “Alright, this is getting too chick flicky for my liking,” he stated, leaning forward. He captured your lips with his in a soft, heated kiss that had you instantly craving more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders tugging yourself closer to him as your tongue slipped over his bottom lip.
 His hands reached beneath your flannel, pushing the material over your shoulders in record time. You had a feeling this was going to happen fast. It was late after all, and you both had been working since nine this morning. It was going to be a quickie at best and that was more than okay with you. A quick fix to make you both feel good and that would be enough to put you to sleep right away.
 “You’re sure about this?” Dean asked you, pulling away a little.
 “Yes, more than sure,” you breathed out, pushing his flannel over his shoulders. “No foreplay this time.”
 “Got it,” he nodded. “Just a quickie?”
 “Quickie then bed,” you smile at him.
 “Roger that,” he agreed, tugging the hem of your shirt up your body, throwing it to the floor. You did the exact same to his, tearing it off of him as quickly as you could. He bucked his hips up to yours, and you could feel the bulge of him already. The thought of having him once more sent heat pooling in your core.
 You climbed off of his lap, toying with the button on your jeans before shoving them down your legs along with your panties. Dean unbuckled his belt, making quick work of removing his jeans and boxers, pushing them down his legs. His hard cock standing proud between his legs. Fuck, was he perfect.
 “Condom?” you asked him.
 “Wallet,” he nodded, reaching down to his jeans, pulling out the leather pouch. He opened it up, taking the foil packet from his wallet. You stepped forward, straddling him as he opened the packet with his teeth, taking the rubber out. You watched as he took his cock in his hand, rolling the condom down over himself. You reached behind your back, removing the final article of clothing from your body to reveal yourself to him once more.
 “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he smiled softly at you.
 “Dean,” you grinned, shaking your head.
 “You are,” he shrugged. “I like that I’m the one you went home with tonight after all the guys that hit on you.”
 “Thank you,” you half smiled. “You’re sexy as hell.”
 “Hell doesn’t sound all that sexy,” he teased you.
 “Shut up, Winchester,” you giggled. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”
 “Please,” he chuckled.
 “Then ask me nicely,” you played, wanting to test him just a little.
 “Y/N, will you please let me put my dick inside you?” he let out a laugh, not able to keep a straight face through the entire sentence, making you laugh along with him.
 “I can’t believe you actually asked,” you cackled.
 “Shut up,” he shook his head, trying not to laugh more than he already had. “The things I do for you.”
 “Hey, the way to a girl’s heart is through humor, Winchester,” you pointed out.
 “Yeah yeah,” he scoffed. “Alright, I’m going to touch you now. Make sure you’re ready for me.”
 “By all means,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. His right hand came down between your legs, his middle finger brushing through your folds to see if you were ready enough for him. You knew you were more than ready to take him. The mere sight of him had you ready to go. The kissing certainly helped you get there too. He was a damn good kisser.
 “Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re sure?”
 “Yes,” you nodded. “You’re sure?”
 “I am,” he agreed. “Whenever you’re ready.”
 You balanced yourself on his shoulders, moving up his body to get ready. You reached one of your hands down, taking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. Your eyes met with his as you positioned the tip in place. He nodded his head, not daring to break the eye contact you held. You let yourself sync down on him, slow and steady. His eyes fluttered shut as you surrounded him in your heat.
 “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed out as he bottomed out inside you. You could feel him twitching a little as your walls grew accustomed to him. He finally opened his eyes, meeting yours as a smile played on his lips. He slipped his hands around your back, ready to help you move on him.
 “You feel amazing, De,” you told him, leaning forward, pressing your forehead to his.
 You made yourself more comfortable before beginning to move on him. He repositioned himself beneath you, making it easier for you to ride him, and for him to meet you halfway. As you sank down on him, he thrusted upwards. His grip was tight on you, keeping you close to him. He felt amazing inside of you. Hell, almost better than he did the first time. From this angle, his cock brushed over all the sensitive spots, getting you there a little bit faster than you were expecting him to.
 His lips trailed on your neck, making your fingers curl in his shoulders. Your walls fluttered around him at the sensation. You brought your hand up to his hair, carding through his soft locks as you continued to bounce on him.
 “Shit Dean,” you cried out.
 “Feels so good,” he muttered, pulling away from your neck. “So close.”
 “Faster,” you urged him on.
 His hands slipped down to your ass, pulling you closer to him. He shifted quickly, your back hitting the couch as he fit between your legs. He snapped his hips against yours, picking up the pace to get you both there. One of his hands reached between your bodies, toying with your clit to heighten your pleasure.
 “Dean, Dean, Dean,” you moaned. Your grip tightened around his shoulders, desperate to grab onto something to keep you grounded. You were panting profusely. You felt the tightness growing in your abdomen. You were so damn close.
 “Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged you on. “Let me feel you.”
 Your walls came crashing down around him as you let out a wanton moan. Your eyes fluttered shut as you threw your head back, letting the pleasure course it’s way through your body. Your fingers curled into his back, trying to hold onto something to keep you from floating away. Your vision went white and your body began to shake just enough for you to notice.
 “Atta girl,” he encouraged you as he bucked his hips into yours. You knew he was damn close to the edge. He just needed that final push.
 “Feels so good, De,” you whispered, trailing your shaky hand up into his hair. “Come for me, Dean.”
 “Shit-” he growled, picking up his pace just a little more. He gave three hard thrusts before his cock twitched. His seed filling the condom before he collapsed on top of you, letting out a breath.
 Your hand carded through his hair, playing with his soft locks as you both came down from your highs. You turned your head, looking at the time on the clock above your tv. It was just after twelve fifteen. You knew you had to get up and get ready for bed.  
 “I just realized we did that with the curtains open,” you giggled, glancing over at the big open window.
 “Well shit,” he let out a laugh. “I hope they enjoyed the show.”
 “We should get up,” you told him. “Get ready for bed.”
 “Yeah,” he breathed out, shifting himself up. He reached down, grabbing the base of his cock to remove himself with care.
 You were the first one off the couch, leaving your clothes on the floor. You headed into your bedroom, going straight to the bathroom. Dean wasn’t far behind you, throwing the used condom into the trash in your bathroom.
 “Uh, you’re welcome to stay if you want to,” you offered him. “Or you can go, whichever you want to do.”
 “Whichever you’re more comfortable with. I don’t want to overstep,” he stated, taking a step back.
 “We literally just had sex,” you reminded him. “I don’t know what would even be considered overstepping at this point.”
 “True,” he chuckled.
 “Well, if you’d like to stay, there is an extra toothbrush in my drawer and boxers in the top drawer in my bedroom,” you told him with a soft smile. “I’m going to shower to get the smell of sex and alcohol off of me. If you want to do the same, you know where the towels are.”
 “Alright,” he nodded, turning towards the shower. You watched as he turned the nozzle, setting it on hot. “You shower first and I’ll clean up out there.
 Dean was out of the bathroom, giving you a bit of privacy. You shut the door a little, giving yourself the comfort of being alone to do what you needed to do. You went to the bathroom before slipping into the shower.
 The water was the perfect temperature for you to clean yourself up. You were just going to have a quick shower to wash your body. You could wash your hair in the morning. You just wanted to feel clean. You had the feeling Dean was staying with you tonight, and you weren’t against it persay. You didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. You weren’t looking for a relationship. You hoped it was just sex for him. That you could handle with ease. You didn’t want to do the whole ‘feelings’ thing. Not with your best friend. Sleepovers were normal for friends. Two friends could have sex without it being weird. There was nothing wrong with casual sex.
 You washed your body quickly. You could feel yourself getting more and more tired the more you stood under the stream. You just wanted to get out, brush your teeth and head to bed. Nothing more.
 The water shut off and you stepped out onto the mat you had set out. You wrapped your towel around yourself, making sure it was tight. The mirror was all steamy, and you could barely see. Not that it was going to stop you from brushing your teeth.
 “Dean, you’re good,” you called out, reaching for your toothbrush. The bathroom door opened, revealing Dean in his boxers and nothing else. He was quiet as he went about, gathering what he needed to shower. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes off of him while he moved around.
 He hopped in the shower as soon as you finished brushing your teeth. The mirror was just starting to clear when you turned away, giving Dean the privacy he deserved. You noticed as soon as you were in your bedroom that Dean had thrown your clothes in the laundry hamper. His clothes were set on the chair in the corner of your room, folded nicely.
 You grabbed the first pair of panties from your drawer, and an oversized shirt to wear to bed. You could feel yourself starting to overthink this. You didn’t want anything to change between you and Dean. You didn’t see him as anything other than your best friend. You didn’t want to date him. You didn’t want a boyfriend or a serious relationship for that matter. You didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.
 You got dressed quickly, throwing the comforter back, slipping beneath the sheets. You heard the water turn off, which meant it was only a matter of time before he was joining you in bed. You lay on your back, adjusting the covers over your chest.
 Dean emerged from the bathroom in a pair of clean boxers, shutting the light out. He circled around the bed, following the same steps. He joined you in the bed, resting on his back, looking up at the ceiling.
 “You tired?” he asked you.
 “Now that the lights are out, not really,” you chuckled. “You?”
 “No not really,” he let out a laugh. “That was fun.”
 “It was. And I’m not usually for being on top,” you admitted with a half smile.
 “Why this time?” he questioned, turning his head to look your direction.
 “I don’t know. I guess I feel a little more comfortable around you. I’m not as nervous about some things, like the way I look for example,” you confessed.
 “You’re beautiful,” he said with a laugh. “Hell, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”
 “What, like that?”
 “That. And sex in general,” he shrugged. “I’ve got what is probably not a good idea. But you said that you’re not looking to date anyone. I’m not ready to date anyone. We’re best friends and speaking from previous experiences one and two, sex is great between us. You’re comfortable with me, and I’m comfortable with you. Why don’t we continue sleeping together? You know, get each other off, try some new things?”
 “Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” you inquired, furrowing your brows.
 “Yeah I guess so,” he breathed out.
 “How is that going to work, Dean?” you turned to face him. “It literally never works. There are too many rules, and someone always gets hurt in the end.”
 “Not if we don’t let it,” he reminded you.
 “Fair point. If we’re going this, and that’s a big if, Dean. I don’t want stupid rules and shit, okay? Friends who have sex, try new things; whatever. Nothing about our friendship changes,” you declared.
 “Done deal. I can agree to those terms,” he nodded.
 “Good. I’m all for sex, but as soon as something goes sideways, of gets complicated, I’m out, okay?” you breathed out.
 “More than okay,” he smiled at you. “Now, are you going to deny me after sex cuddling?”
 “We had sex like half an hour ago,” you scoffed playfully.
 “Friends are allowed to cuddle, you know,” he reminded you. “It’s not going to hurt you.”
 “Fine,” you shook your head. “You’re big spoon though.”
 “Turn around then,” he smirked.
 You turned over, trying to make yourself comfortable on your side of the bed. Dean slipped his arm around your middle, his chest pressing against your back. You let yourself melt into him, feeling safe in his hold. You knew for a fact that he was going to keep the nightmares away tonight.  
 Maybe after sex cuddling wasn’t so bad after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 5 coming Tuesday!
Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Any theories? Please share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Nothing is stupid! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! Your response is the ONLY thing keeping me sharing this story!
Dean Babes
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Owe You One
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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years
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Flawless (7)
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Con Artist AU. masterlist. 
Content Warning: swearing, PTSD, violence, sex
Before we get started here, you all need to know that Flawless will be going on a mini-hiatus. This chapter is the end of my original outline, and I need to spend some time planning out the next plot arc before I write the next chapter. 
(Also, shoutout to the lovely humans who translated the line in French. Y’all are the real MVPs.)
Anyway, this is it. The chapter you’ve all been waiting for. The heist. It feels so surreal to finally write it. As always, thank you for coming on this wild ride with me. ❤
*****
In the shadow of its brightly illuminated landmarks, Paris hummed to the tune of debauchery. 
Paparazzi gathered around the Louvre’s glass pyramid, waiting to capture a clear picture of a celebrity guest entering the afterparty. Riley shielded her face with her clutch as she walked in, careful to remain unidentifiable in the barrage of photos. The gold buttons on her emerald jacket-dress caught the warm light emanating from the pyramid and the bright camera flashes. She was well dressed, but not enough to stand out. Tonight, Riley needed to blend in. 
She ran a hand through her hair, making sure the loose curls covered her earpiece. For the sake of stealth, the team’s comms were skin color, but they were Nikki and Cage’s skin color, not Riley’s. 
Riley was half-tempted to throw her comms into one of the fountains out of spite. 
She was the last of the Five Eyes to arrive. They staggered their arrivals to avoid being associated with one another, as a precaution. Pulse thrumming in anticipation, Riley bounced on her toes slightly as she waited in line to check in. The Louvre security team meticulously checked each guest’s ID against the guest list; there would be no party crashers tonight. 
It had been all too easy for Riley to add the Five Eyes’ cover identities to the guest list a week ago. Now, she handed the stone-faced security guard a drivers’ license bearing her face and the name “Danika Jackson.” Returning her ID with a nod, the security guard stepped aside, allowing Riley to enter the party. 
Everyone is responsible for their own entrance and exit. That was her new rule. She got everyone’s names added to the guest list, but her assistance ended there. If someone ran into trouble, it was on them to bail themselves out. 
Riley had learned that rule from her mentor when she first dipped her toes into the world of two-faced schemes and nimble-fingered cons, but she never truly understood it—or saw the need to enforce it—until she felt the bite of handcuffs digging into her wrists. 
It was a mistake she’d never make again. 
Riley strolled through the hallway bearing massive Italian paintings, slowly making her way to the room containing the most overrated painting of all time—and the rendezvous point. 
The Mona Lisa room was empty aside from a blonde woman in a beaded, blood-red cocktail dress standing much too close to the glass-encased painting. Riley stood to the woman’s right and studied the painting as well. It was underwhelming. 
“You’d think the most beautiful woman in art would be wearing a prettier dress,” Nikki remarked.
Riley snorted, crossing her arms. “Says the woman who just bought a four-thousand-dollar cheetah print pantsuit.”
Nikki feigned offence. “You’re just jealous because you couldn’t pull it off. Anyway, quiz time. What year did da Vinci paint the Mona Lisa?” 
“1503,” Riley answered easily. “And the woman’s name is Lisa del Giocondo.” Nikki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What’s that look for?” 
“I didn’t think you actually listen when I talk about art.” 
Riley offered her friend a small smile. “I’m always listening to you.” The sound of heels clicking down the hall made them pause. When the coast was clear, Riley murmured, “Is everyone in position?”
“Yeah. Desi and Sam should be inside already, and Jill checked in a few guests in front of me.”
“How did that go?”
“Easy peasy.” Nikki glanced at Riley and softened her tone. “Are we sure Jill is ready for this?”
“We’ll find out, won’t we? Don’t forget, it was your idea to recruit her.”
Nikki turned back to the Mona Lisa. “You know, you really do suck at pep talks.” 
“Oh shut up.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you want control room duty?” 
Nikki spared her a sideways glance. “I’ll do it. You did it last time.” Her second sentence hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the job gone horribly wrong. And a reminder of all the things they still hadn’t talked about. 
Riley brushed it aside. They could talk after they were each forty million dollars richer. 
Pulling a flash drive hidden inside an old lipstick tube out of her clutch, Riley instructed, “Plug this in, and it’ll do half the work for you.” 
“Thanks.” Nikki put the tube in her own purse. “See you on the other side.” 
“Don’t get caught.” 
“Don’t get caught,” Nikki parroted, and Riley strode down the hall toward the party.
She followed the pulsing music and the stream of guests to a room in the far corner of the museum, passing the employee door Nikki would sneak into along the way. Crossing the threshold, she couldn’t conceal her gasp. Riley had seen plenty of opulent rooms over the years, but the Galerie d’Apollon was something else entirely. Gold moulding framed the dozens of paintings covering the walls and the arched ceiling. Display cases containing the French Crown Jewels formed a line down the middle of the rectangular room. Despite the party’s couture dress code, the bedazzled guests looked entirely underdressed compared to the grandeur of the gallery.
She only let herself be awestruck for a few seconds before getting to work, marking the exits and security cameras. Riley didn’t like how deep the gallery was in the museum—and how far she would have to walk to make a clean escape with the jewels. 
She would be the one walking out with them. No one else. Riley had made that crystal clear during the team planning meeting a few days ago. 
Draped in black fabric, the case containing the designer jewelry sat in the middle of the gallery. A security guard stood by it, no doubt to ward off nosey guests wanting a sneak peek. 
A wave of nausea passed through her, reminding Riley that the closest thing to a substantial meal she’d eaten all day was the two pastries she ate a few hours ago. She slipped through the crowd with practiced ease, heading for the snack table. Jill was already there, gorging herself on bread and cheese. Eyes wide, the blonde froze as Riley sidled next to her, evidently thinking she was in trouble. 
But Riley simply reached for a piece of bread and asked, “Which cheese is the best?” 
Exhaling audibly, Jill pointed a manicured, light blue nail. “That one.” Riley tried it. Jill was right; it was delicious. 
“You ready, Blondie?” Riley asked, lowering her voice. “There’s no job unless you get this right.” 
Jill rolled her shoulders back, snarking, “No pressure or anything.” There was a bite to her words, one Riley noticed only came out when someone, namely her, pushed the blonde a little too far. 
“Sorry,” Riley said, and she meant it. “You can do this. Don’t second-guess yourself. Commit.” 
Jill merely nodded, swallowing another piece of cheese. 
Riley wandered off, not wanting to stay with Jill too long. With her back to a wall, she scanned the room in search of Desi and Cage. When she didn’t see them on her first sweep, Riley furrowed her brow. Where the hell were they? 
A bright laugh carried across the room—Cage. There you are, Riley thought. She spied her teammate enjoying the spotlight in the center of a group of models all cooing over Cage’s pale pink dress. It suited Cage, with its billowy sleeves and flowy skirt that hit just below her knees. Cage giggled again, putting her hand on a woman’s shoulder a little too boldly for the gesture to be casual. 
Predictably, Desi wasn’t far away, staring daggers at her shameless flirt of a girlfriend. 
Riley unmuted her comms. “Easy there, Des. It’s just an act.” 
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she snapped. Even from a distance, Riley could see Desi’s tight grip on her champagne flute. 
Riley cooed, “So jealous.” 
The woman wrapped a proprietary arm around Cage, clearly welcome to the blonde’s advances, and Cage beamed at her. 
It was enough to push Desi over the edge. “Don’t forget whose bed you’re sleeping in tonight, Samantha,” she snarled. “And I don’t remember agreeing to share.” 
Cage excused herself from the group. “My love, did it ever occur to you that I’m making you jealous on purpose? Because we both know—”
Nikki cut her off, rescuing the team from whatever filthy thing was about to come out of Cage’s mouth. “Don’t be gross, you two.” Riley stifled a laugh. She and Nikki had been subjected to many things they didn’t want to hear over the years. This would hardly faze her now.
Focus. They needed to focus. 
Riley finally spotted the sharp-eyed assistant she noticed at the runway show. Always two steps behind the designer, the young woman obediently trailed him as he floated from group to group. The assistant finished her drink, setting it on the tray of a passing waiter, and strode toward the main hallway in this wing of the museum. 
“I think she’s going to the bathroom,” Jill said. “Do I follow her?” 
Snagging a drink of her own, Riley answered, “No. Bump into her when she comes back.” She watched Jill make her way toward the far side of the gallery, ready to intercept the assistant and steal her keys. 
Everything was going to plan. Jill just had to steal the keys, and then all they had to do was hurry up and wait for the big reveal. Eight o’clock, Riley was told upon arrival. The designer would commence his speech at eight, then reveal his masterpiece to the world. 
Riley checked her watch. Thirty more minutes. 
She knew she’d been standing in this spot for too long already, but Riley was loath to give up the relative safety of having a wall at her back. The twinge of fear she’d felt earlier at the runway show came raging to the surface, rooting her stiletto-clad feet in place. Leaving the wall meant having people in her blind spot. No one’s going to hurt me, Riley promised herself. This is a party, not a prison. 
Her legs felt like lead weights, but Riley forced herself to re-enter the crowd, one agonizing stride at a time. She made it as far as the nearest display case before she had to stop, and her eyes landed on a tiara resting in the center of the display. Countless tiny diamonds formed flowery swoops and swirls, with a handful of emeralds scattered between them, filling what would otherwise be empty spaces. In the center, the diamonds framed a large, round emerald, mimicking the shape of a flower. 
It was exactly what Riley would have stolen had the Five Eyes agreed to rob the Louvre itself, rather than this party. Maybe she’d come back for it, one day. 
Using the case as a pseudo-wall, Riley took a deep breath and re-scanned the room in search of Jill. Unsurprisingly, Jill was exactly where Riley had last seen her.
She kept an eye on the recruit, knowing Desi and Cage were doing the same. Riley was impressed; Jill had quickly figured out how to linger without being obvious she was waiting for something. Jill mindlessly pushed up her glasses—the only visible sign of her nerves—and the movement drew Riley’s attention. 
But not to Jill. 
To another blond head, far behind her. One Riley desperately hoped to never see again. 
“We have a problem,” Desi said. 
“I saw.” 
Nikki’s ex-boyfriend stalked into the gallery, a taller, older man at his heels like a shadow—the same men who chased Riley, Nikki, and Jill through the taco shop a few weeks ago. 
Fuck.
Ducking her head to avoid being spotted, Riley hissed, “Nik, get your ass to the control room and lock the door behind you. We’ve got company.” 
“Already here. Accessing system controls as we speak. Whoever designed the security system in this place should be fired, because this is ridiculously simple. I should’ve left it in French just to keep it interesting.” A pause. "Who's here? Wait. No. Let me guess. Interpol? The mob? That bitchy designer I once robbed point-blank?" 
"Your ex." 
"Oh."
"You didn't tell him about our dream job, did you?" The words came out a little too accusatory, but Riley didn't care. She needed to know. 
"No! Of course I didn't. He— Look, I don't know why he's here, and we can figure that out later. Right now, you need to keep him busy. He's smart, Riles. Maybe even smarter than you. Be careful." 
Riley scoffed. "Smarter than me? We'll see about that." 
"I'm serious, Riley." 
But Riley ignored her, instead giving instructions of her own. "Cage, you watch Jill. Des—" 
"I've got the big one." Classic Desi, never letting her finish a sentence and yet always knowing what she was going to say. The habit was obnoxious at first, but over time Riley learned to appreciate it. "See the bulge on his left side? He keeps touching it." Desi said. "He's armed." 
“He’s what?” Jill exclaimed. 
Chuckling, Desi said, “Now look at my left side. We match.” A small, terrified squeak was the only response. “Well, what did you think I meant when I told you I’m the team’s exfil specialist?” 
“Not that!” 
“And Nik’s ex?” Riley asked, redirecting the conversation. 
“Seems clean.” 
“He is,” Nikki confirmed. “Mac hates guns.” 
“You know,” Riley said, studying the larger of the two men, “The other one kind of looks like a guy who dated my mom once.” 
“Really?” Desi asked. “Think he’s the same guy?” 
Riley took a closer look. He was tall, with broad, muscled shoulders and a buzzed haircut, and considering how often he fidgeted with his tie, he didn’t get dressed up often. He smiled at a passing waitress. He had an open, friendly smile, which totally contrasted with the systematic way he scanned the room. “Nah.”
Jill squawked, “Wait! Are we really still going through with this? Didn’t it just get a whole lot harder?” 
“You say harder, I say more fun,” Cage said. “Just stick to the plan. You’ll be fine.” 
Jill, it seemed, wasn’t so easily reassured. “Am I the only one who sees this is a trap?” 
“It’s only a trap when you don’t know about it. When you do, it’s a challenge,” Riley said. 
“But what if the plan goes wrong? Then what?” 
At the same time, all four women answered, “Improvise.” 
Riley muted her comms as she approached Nikki’s ex; Jill didn’t need the added distraction. Help her, Riley pleaded with the universe. You owe me. 
Pushing her concerns about Jill to the back of her mind, Riley studied her target. There was a champagne flute in the spy’s hand, but he didn’t drink it—not even a sip—and his methodical gaze swept the room, no doubt making note of each guest and who they interacted with. 
He was cute, she had to admit. Definitely Nikki’s type. 
Purposefully not watching where she was going, Riley collided with him, narrowly avoiding sloshing his drink onto her shoes. She pretended to stumble, and his free hand caught her waist, ensuring Riley stayed upright. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Pardon me.” 
His hand left her side. Frowning, he asked, “Do I know you?” 
Don’t lie. Evade. Her former mentor taught her that. 
Riley smirked. “I bet you use that line on every beautiful woman you stumble into.” 
“Only when I’m too blown away to say something original.” He winked. 
Maybe this would be easier than Riley anticipated. “Care to wander the museum with me while you practice your next line?” 
“Normally I would, but I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not looking to start anything new.” 
So much for that plan. 
His honesty, however, was surprising. 
“Not even a little fun?” she goaded, but Nikki’s ex declined once more before excusing himself and vanishing into the crowd. 
At least Desi had better luck keeping the other spy occupied. She had him cornered, her body carefully angled to prevent him from seeing the slight bulge from the gun hidden in her dress. The plunging neckline had two purposes—easy access to the gun holstered at her side while providing a distracting view of her chest and intricate tattoos. It was just enough to snag wandering eyes and keep them focused on the front of her body, rather than the side. To the spy’s credit, his eyes remained pointedly fixed on Desi’s face. 
“Got the keys,” Jill announced. Perfect timing. 
Riley breathed a sigh of relief. “Good work, Blondie.” 
Now, all they had to do was wait.
*****
While the designer yammered some pretentious bullshit about fine jewelry as the centerpiece of fashion and art, Riley slowly pushed her way to the front of the crowd gathering for the reveal. A few feet away, Cage did the same. Across from them—closest to the still-covered jewelry display case—Desi and Jill took their places. None of them were particularly interested by the designer’s speech, but Nikki would be hanging on every word if she were here. 
The designer rambled on, explaining how particular pieces among the French Crown Jewels influenced the designs of his own work. It was awfully arrogant, Riley thought, comparing his own work to such timeless pieces. The longer he spoke, the more Riley disliked him and didn’t feel even an ounce of guilt for robbing him. 
Lingering on the edge of the crowd, Nikki’s ex and his partner seemed content to remain out of the way. For all Riley cared, they could stay there all night. 
The gallery lights flickered once. A few guests glanced up nervously, but the majority remained transfixed on the designer. 
Nikki’s voice crackled through the comms. “Everyone ready? Nod once if you are.” Riley nodded. One by one, so did everyone else. “Alrighty then. Lights out in five…”
Riley counted the number of paces between her and Cage—six. 
“Four…”
Paces from Cage to the jewelry case—eight. 
“Three…”
Paces from the case back to her original position—ten. 
Two…
Closing her eyes, Riley waited. 
“One.” 
Several women shrieked when the lights went out. 
Riley opened her eyes, and before they’d even adjusted to the dark, she strode toward Cage. Six steps. She collided with Cage, dropping her purse on the ground and taking Cage’s identical one, containing replicas of the necklace and earrings. 
Cage shouted that someone stole her purse, causing a scene. She’d chatted and flirted with enough people throughout the night for her voice to be easily recognized, and a murmur broke out among the agitated crowd, creating just enough background noise to cover the sound of Riley’s heels clicking on the floor. 
Eight steps to the back side of the jewelry display. Riley could just make out Jill and Desi unlocking the case with the assistant’s keys. She braced for an alarm to sound, but there was nothing. Atta girl, Nikki. 
Riley opened the purse. Carefully, Desi replaced the real jewels with the fakes, depositing the real ones inside Cage’s purse. 
Jill locked the case and replaced the cover, and Riley returned to her original position among the crowd. The designer and his assistant remained oblivious to what transpired behind them, even as Jill slipped the keys back into the assistant’s dress pocket.
“Lights on in three,” Nikki warned. 
Emergency lights flickered on, casting a harsh white light over the murmuring crowd. A man angrily questioned what happened, followed by a chorus of “Yeah, what he said!”s in a variety of languages. The assistant urged the crowd to remain calm, promising everything would be sorted out shortly. 
Riley looked over her shoulder, searching for Nikki’s ex. He was nowhere to be found. She narrowed her eyes, but with two hundred million dollars worth of jewelry in her hand, Riley decided she didn’t particularly care. 
The woman Cage flirted with the longest stepped forward, picking up the purse Riley had tossed near Cage’s feet. “Isn’t this your purse?” she asked Cage. 
Riley’s teammate feigned embarrassment, gracefully reclaiming the purse. “Yes, that’s it. Thank you.” 
Just as an outraged Cage exclaimed the purse was empty, Riley melted into the dispersing crowd, slowly making her way toward the museum’s exit. That was the plan. She’d leave first, and once she escaped with the jewels, everyone else would exit as well. 
Riley retraced her steps, heels clicking on the hardwood flooring of the museum’s endless long hallways. She didn’t look at any of the art as she passed, not even a single glance. Art had always been more Nikki’s thing than hers. 
Weaving her way back to the exit, Riley prayed Nikki hadn’t missed any of the cameras. She was supposed to loop them all, allowing Riley to leave the museum unseen. But with each additional camera—some obvious, some not—Riley’s anxiety rose. 
Nikki knows what she’s doing, Riley reminded herself. She won’t let anything happen to me. 
Two years ago, that reassurance would’ve been enough. 
Now, her distrusting brain shot back, Are you sure? 
Riley didn’t dignify it with a response. 
Passing the museum’s security checkpoint, Riley smiled at a bored-looking security guard. “Vous partez déjà?” he asked. 
Riley hoped the security guard asked why she was leaving so soon. She never did get around to brushing up on her French. “Oui, I have a flight to catch.” Not a lie, although the flight wouldn’t take off until early tomorrow morning. 
The crisp night breeze prickled Riley’s bare skin. She took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs. For the first time that night, Riley finally felt her body start to relax. The vast, empty plaza felt so much safer than the packed gallery. Still not safe enough to let her guard down, but safer. Riley slipped her hand into the purse, fingers closing around an earring. It was surprisingly heavy in her palm. 
Another flawless job. The Five Eyes were back in business. 
She was halfway across the plaza when Nikki started cursing, but Riley didn’t slow. Everyone is responsible for their own exit. The job was done. No turning back now. 
There was a distinct male voice in the background, but Riley couldn’t make out what he said. 
“What do you mean, ‘I had a feeling you’d be here’?” Nikki demanded. “We haven’t spoken in months, Mac, and I know you didn’t track me here on your own.” 
Her ex’s voice was nothing more than a low, indiscernible rumble. 
“What?” Nikki whispered, her voice breaking mid-word. 
As much as Riley wanted to know what he said, she kept walking. But that didn’t stop the others from hissing Nikki’s name, demanding to know what was going on. 
Nikki yelped, and then the male voice purred, loud and clear, “I know you’re listening, Riley. Why don’t we go on that little walk now?” 
With a cold laugh, Riley said, “In your fucking dreams.” How did he know her name? As far as she knew, Nikki never mentioned her. 
Still, she kept walking. Everyone is responsible for their own exit. No matter what. 
Riley muted her comms, and Nikki’s piercing shriek filled her ear. A muffled grunt followed.
Then nothing. 
Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay. 
“Riley, you need to come back,” Jill pleaded. “Nikki needs help.” 
She didn’t answer, clenching her jaw with the effort to keep silent. An airplane flew overhead, and Riley tracked its path across the sky. Every step brought Riley closer to her own flight home—and the freedom that entailed. Turning around now would only put that in jeopardy. 
But every step also took her away from her best friend. The woman she once believed she’d do anything for. 
Jill was overreacting, Riley reasoned. Nikki was more than capable of getting herself out of a bind. Riley lost track of the number of impossible situations she and Nikki had found themselves in over the years, and they always found a way to escape. 
“Sam is getting Jill out,” Desi said, slightly out of breath. “Riles, I don’t think I can get Nikki out on my own. Jill is right. You need to come back.” 
Riley faltered. If Desi thought there was a problem, then something must’ve gone really, really wrong. 
Maybe Jill wasn’t overreacting after all. 
“Des—” Cage started. “They opened the case.” 
“So?” 
“They know the jewels are fake. If Riley comes back, it won’t just be Nikki going to prison.” 
Prison. 
Riley didn’t think she was breathing. Heart thudding wildly, her stomach tied itself into knots, and her clothes became damp with sweat. The sense of safety she’d felt earlier was gone, and Riley fought the urge to run. Every little noise—traffic, pedestrian chatter, a siren in the distance—was coming for her, ready to drag her into some dark hole she’d never emerge from. 
Nothing was logical anymore, like the part of her brain capable of rational thought had gone to sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to wake up, but it was no use. 
Run, while you still have the chance, her body screamed. 
Everyone is responsible for their own exit, her brain repeated. 
She needed to turn around. Nikki couldn’t go to prison. 
Two years ago, Riley had gone to prison in Nikki’s stead. She let herself be arrested to protect her friends. Her family. 
If Nikki went to prison now, then Riley’s sacrifice would be in vain. 
But Riley’s body refused to turn around. Her worst memories from prison flashed before her eyes—ones Riley desperately wanted to forget—like a cougar crouching in the shadows, waiting for the exact moment she was at her weakest to pounce. 
She couldn’t go back there. She couldn’t go through that again. 
She wouldn’t survive it twice. 
“Riles,” Nikki pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Where are you?” 
Run, that voice in her head said. Don’t look back. 
Her steps were slower now, less sure. But Riley didn’t stop. She couldn’t. 
“I need you.” 
Save yourself, girl. 
“I’m sorry,” Riley whispered, but her comms were still muted. With a shaking hand, Riley unmuted them one last time. 
It’s better this way, the voice promised. You’ll see. 
It was all too easy to slip into the brutal, emotionless persona she’d built while in prison, the process having become instinct. It was necessary then, to keep her safe and alive. Now, it did the same, preventing Riley from making a mistake every cell in her body knew she wouldn’t come back from. 
In a cold, unflinching voice, Riley said, “Everyone is responsible for their own exit.” 
She threw her earpiece into a nearby fountain, and the click of her stilettos echoed in the night. 
~ Tag List ~ Want to be added? Send me an ask.
@macrileyedits / @hellishrose / @losingitovermacriley​ / @mylifequotesshowallofthem / @thecarrieonokay / @holbytlanna​ /
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bound-writings · 4 years
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Teru x female reader who's bad at her studies headcannons! Teru has secret crush on her
BUEIDW I LOVE THIS SO MUCH I HOPE U ENJOY ANON!!! ALSO TAGGING @jshk-oneshots AND @toilettebound BC I THINK THEY WANTED TO SEE THE TERU FLUFF! ALSO @daikon-legss BC THEY ARE IN A TERU LOVING MOOD! (aLSO PARTIALLY INSPIRED BY CH 59 OF TBHK)
Teru Helping His Crush Study HCS
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As we all know, Teru, quite frankly, is smart as hell. Good at English, bad with nothing. A ranking of #1 out of #231. A true perfect student. He’s never had too much trouble studying, so when you go up to him wailing about your studies, he’s a bit surprised (and also in awe at how cute you look.)
You quickly opened the door to the student council, slamming the door against the wall, your hand placed on your chest as you furiously looked around the room, looking for a specific cheese head which you secretly adored. You must have looked like a crazy person but you didn’t care right now. 
“(Name)?”
You whipped your head over to the direction of the voice. Teru was standing over his desk, his head tilted slightly to the side curiously, paperwork scattered about.
Cute, you thought.
You shook your head, trying to get rid of that kind of thought.
“(Name)? Are you ok? You look very frazzled-”
You ran up to him, your feet skidding to a halt as you clutched his shirt. 
“T-Teru… it’s the worst possible situation ever!”
Teru looked down at you. Big puppy eyes and your lip jutting out, small fingers locked onto his shirt and one hand even on his tie, you looked adorable. Your hair was ruffled and pieces were sticking out, some bags under your eye, and your chest was heaving up and down as if you were running for quite a while. The tips of his ears went red as you were so close to him, your warmth was a comfort to him.
“What’s the matter, (Name)?”
You buried his head into his chest, a small whine escaping you. 
“Finals, Teru. FINALS!”
Teru raised his eyebrows as he brought his fingers to his chin.
“Finals, huh…”
“Yes, finals! How and why do you sound so calm about it?!”
“Well-”
“Oh yea.. I almost forgot. You’re the undefeated top-scoring student, amazing at everything…” you sulked, fingers dragging down his chest. You turned your back to him as you crossed your arms, pouting.
“Now, (Name)… why are you so scared about it in the first place? You’re quite capable and smart.”
You whipped around, grabbing his shoulders as you pursed your lips. “That’s not even true! But the worst part is…”
“Is..?” Teru was amused at your antics. You were very entertaining, one of the reasons he loved you.
“Is that I’m absolutely lost when studying!”
Teru blinked his eyes at you, while you stared straight into his own with the most serious expression he’s ever seen on you before he broke out in a chuckle and covered his mouth to try to muffle his laughs. You furrowed your eyebrows at his reaction.
“Teru, this is not a laughing matter! I’m being 100% serious right now!”
Teru smiled at you as he gently removed your hands from his shirt and set them at your side, his heart slightly pounding against his chest as he savored the softness of your hands in his.
“(Name), I’m sure you’re exaggerating-”
“I’m not, Teru! Every time I tried to study, I always got distracted, or I don’t understand the material, and just- grr!” you scowled, running your hands through your hair. “And imagine what everyone will think when they see a member of the student council fail their exams! They’ll call me the dumbest person in the school!”
Then, your shoulders perked up, as you nervously glanced up at him. “T-That’s why I came to ask you to help me.”
“Oh?”
“Y-yea!” You glided over to Teru once again and clasped your hands together. “Please, Teru! Help me study!”
“Sure, (Name.)”
“Please, this is a once in a lifetime reque- eh?” You hastily looked up, eyes shining with hope. “You will?!”
Teru smiled as he smoothed your ruffled hair. “Of course, (Name.) Anything for you,” he said, twirling a lock of hair around his fingers.
You blushed as you bowed. “Thank you so much, Teru! Oh, I’ll help you finish all your paperwork and-”
“But-”
“Oh God, there’s a but?! Teru, please don’t make me do something crazy-”
“Don’t look so scared, I didn’t even say anything yet (Name)!” he smiled, sparkles floating around him.
You squinted your eyes at his suspiciously. Even though you had a secret infatuation with the boy, you knew how he would, well, treat Akane. Teru leaned forward, whispering into your ear.
“You have to listen to one command from me, no matter what it is.” His breath tickled your ear and you were sure you were going to combust.
“If you’re fine with that, come see me after school, (Name).”
The sly mf already knew you were going to say yes. This boy knows how to work his magic to get you to come to him. Not just he means any harm, he’s just itching to spend some alone time with you (even if he appears to be neutral on the surface.) So he’s not surprised when you’re there waiting for him, hands on your hips, cheeks slightly flushed. (All according to plan!)
“I agree to your condition, Teru! But it better not be anything weird!”
He just smiles at you but inside he’s giddy with joy. Some alone time? With you? The most beautiful person he knows, loves, and adores? HELL YES! He doesn’t miss the opportunity to invite you to his house, despite the amount of paperwork he has left to do. (He’ll just dump it on Akane.) When you two arrive at his house, you’re probably marveling at how big it is and he’s just smiling at you all happy because he’s so glad he just snatched you up for some alone time. When Kou and Tiara saw you they got all excited because they love you too!! The two youngest siblings were giving each other looks because the only time their big brother brings anyone home is when he really likes them so they’re like ;) you go get them, tiger!!
Of course, y’all actually have to study, unfortunately. Teru has everything organized already (he prepared just for you!) You would start with the easiest stuff first because he didn’t want you to get overwhelmed too early on. Sometimes it’s hard for both of you to focus. When you’re trying to figure out a question, Teru points and shows you how to do it and his fingers brush ever so gently against yours. Both of you are flustered, but neither of you pull away, because, well, both of you like the feeling. Teru tends to stare at you a lot, whether it’s intentional or not, you don’t know. You are just chewing your pencil, glaring at the question while Teru just stares at you patiently with literal sparkles around him, and when you looked up you are blinded by how precious he looks. Similarly, whenever you get a question right, you always send Teru a closed eye smile, one hand against your cheek and the other making a peace sign. Cue Teru trying not to blush. He just wants to hold your hand and squeeze it every time you got something right and to maybe give you some cheek and forehead kisses every time you did something adorable (which is like 24/7 according to Teru’s logic.) It is actually quite a productive studying session, much to your delight, and Teru is also satisfied because he got to spend time with his beloved and also him you!
Much like a few days ago, you busted open the door to the student council, hopping in while you waved your hands around delightedly. You squealed with glee at the sight of Teru, rushing over to him with a piece of paper in your hand.
“Teru, Teru! Look!” you giggled as shoved the slip of paper that had the grades for your final exams.
“I actually did good!” you twirled around, humming, slightly hoping Teru would praise you.
Teru smiled at you, his face going soft at your adorableness. “I told you that you were going to do fine. You didn’t even need my help.”
“Hey! That’s not true! Without you, I would have failed! So I guess I’m in your debt now!” you grinned, shyly scratching your cheek.
“Of course you are, (Name). Don’t you remember the condition?”
“The condition? What- oh.. that conditon..” your face fell as a nervous grin replaced your previous one. “W-well, Teru, it was nice seeing you but I think I have to go now!” you started backing up towards the door but it was pushed in and your back hit the wall. When did that happen? There was no time to think or escape as Teru was quicker than your tiny little legs.
A hand gently hit the wall next to your face, as you nearly jumped at the sound as you glanced at it. When you glanced back to speak up, Teru’s face was already alarmingly close to yours. His beautiful blue eyes stared at you, and you could see his features close up. He was handsome already… but damn, you could feel your whole body heating up.
“You know, (Name), it’s not good to go back on your word.”
You couldn’t conjure any words to respond. 
“You don’t have to worry though. My request is a very simple one.”
You merely nodded as you averted eye contact, you could barely even stand as your legs turned to jelly.
“Close your eyes for me, (Name).”
You furrowed your eyebrows at his particularly strange request but did as he asked, squeezing your eyes shut as you swallowed in anticipation of something bad to happen.
A hand caressed your cheek, causing you to stiffen in surprise. A finger traced your lips and lifted your chin up. Then another pair of lips brushed against yours, and then smashed onto yours leaving you in complete and utter shock. Teru’s hand gently combed through your locks, and it all sank in.
Teru was kissing you.
He pulled away almost too fast, his hands leaving your body and returning to his side, leaving you in a flurry of emotions and also wanting more of those sweet, delectable, kisses.
“That wasn’t too bad of a condition, was it, (Name)?” he asked playfully, enjoying the sight of your flustered face and messy hair displayed before him.
There was one thing you knew for sure.
If this was the condition for studying with Teru, you’d be very interested in studying with him a lot more often.
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babbushka · 4 years
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Reunions
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Clyde Logan x Reader 
3k ; Minor angst (Military past/reuniting with military buddies) it’s really very fluffy I promise
(originally posted on AO3 12/28/2018, cross-posting here for my tumblr friends)
                                                  -----------------------
Most Monday mornings found you in the front lawn, tending to the flowers you had planted there before the heat of the day set in, and this particular Monday was no exception. 
The birds were chirping brightly, your watering can was full, and the day just seemed glad to see you. Clyde was back in the small house the two of you shared, and was just waking up. 
He always slept in late after the weekends when Duck Tape was at its busiest, so you had taken up this routine as a way to be productive while letting him get some much needed rest – on days where he let you out of his python grip, that was.
A bonus to being outside early was you got to greet the neighbors and various people passing by your property. People walking their dogs or taking their kids to the nearby school all got a friendly greeting from you as you tended your garden, and the mailman was no exception. You usually had a small token of appreciation for him on Mondays, as a way to start the week off nicely.
“Good morning ma’am! Only a couple letters for y’all today.” The mailman said as he pulled up in his truck outside your house.
You brushed your hands off on your gardening pants and took the small stack from him with a smile. You knew you were the last house on his route, he had told you as much one morning a few months ago, and so you didn’t worry about the fresh loaf of homemade bread getting squished or damaged in his care. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with butcher’s twine like it was every week, with a small paper tag on it that you wrote down this week’s flavor – roasted garlic and rosemary.
“Thank you Patrick, here’s something nice for you and Shelley. Have a good day!” You handed him the loaf and he didn’t hesitate to take in a big sniff, the garlic was pretty strong but he grinned like it was Christmas morning.
“You’re always so kind (Y/N), thank ya! It smells delicious, you have a good one.” He gave you a small wave before driving down the block.
Heading back towards the house, you started leafing through the letters. One was the cable and internet bill, another was a weekly newsletter of the local community that you had subscribed to, but the third was addressed to Clyde specifically.
It was small and rectangular, and a little dinged up, but it looked like it had traveled a long way to get to Clyde. His name and address was inked in blue pen that had gotten a little smudged, and you could only wonder how many times it had gotten delivered to the wrong place before it finally arrived to your humble home.
“Clyde honey, something came in the mail for you today.” You said as you walked through the door. Your boyfriend was fully awake and munching on some frosted flakes at the kitchen table, reading through a new book he picked up at the library.
“Just put it in the pile, I’ll sort through it later.” Clyde responded sweetly, making you giggle.
“It’s not a bill, someone sent you a personal letter.” You leaned over the table and gave him a morning breath kiss, placing the letter on the table next to his book. “Return address is from Utah, do you know anyone from there?”
You had thought all of Clyde’s family was here in West Virginia. Well, now with Jimmy across state line that might no longer be true, but still you had never heard your man talk about anyone from all the way across the country.
“Can you get me a butter knife?” Clyde asked, his voice gone quiet as he stared at the letter.  
“Sure thing honey.” You said with a slight frown, grabbing one from the drawer and handing it to him.
Clyde didn’t respond, using the butter knife as a makeshift letter opener to tear through the envelope carefully. Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded into thirds, and was completely covered in more blue ink. From your angle you couldn’t make out the writing exactly, but Clyde’s reaction to it was more concerning to you than the contents.
“Is everything okay? You look a little pale.” You asked, sitting down next to him and hugging yourself close to his arm, the scarred one. He hadn’t yet put on his prosthetic since he had just woken up, but you didn’t mind in the least. You liked that he trusted you enough to be comfortable around you.
“I’m okay.” He said with a deep breath, folding the letter back down and tucking it under his book.
You didn’t want to press the issue, so you just gave him a kiss and moved to the cabinet to get a bowl so you could have some breakfast with him and spend the rest of the morning together.
The next day, Clyde came home early from work and surprised you with takeout from your favorite Chinese restaurant for dinner. You had been watching TV, waiting for him to come home, and at the sound of the front door unlocking you were already running across the house to jump into his arms and cover his face with kisses.
“Honey you’re home!” You grinned, laughing as he lifted you and spun you around.
“Yup, I felt like spending the evening with my favorite lady.” He smiled back at you, giving you one long kiss before releasing his hold on you.
You giggled, still dizzy from the spinning, and took the heavy takeout bag from him. He followed you into the living room where you laid out the spread of containers, and you caught him fidgeting with the buckle on his belt – a nervous habit of his that you picked up on pretty early on.
“(Y/N)?” Clyde said, and you frowned slightly at the apprehension in his voice. “I was wonderin’…if you wouldn’t mind accompanyin’ me to a function this weekend.” He finished, and you were relieved that you didn’t have to prepare for dreadful news.
“You know I’ll always join you wherever you want me to.” You said, sitting on the couch and inviting him to his favorite spot: his head in your lap. “Is this about your friend from Utah? Are they going to be in town?” You asked, thinking about the letter.
“Yup. It ain’t just Tony either, it’s…” Clyde trailed off with a sigh, and your chest tightened for him. You knew there were a lot of things in Clyde’s past that you didn’t really know about, because he had had such a hard time living through them. The last thing you wanted to do was to make him deal with something he wasn’t ready for.
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s hard Clyde.” You said, stroking your fingers through his thick and luscious hair.
“I want to tell ya because it’s hard.” Clyde said, sitting up and taking your hand. He took a deep breath and looked you in the eye, something he was trying to be better at when he was nervous. “I know I don’t talk about it a lot, especially with me losin’ m’ arm and all, but I made some good pals overseas in the special forces. Some of them are having a bar-be-cue, a reunion of sorts, and I’ve been invited to go.”
He looked at you almost like he was afraid you’d say no, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face, and he felt a little more relaxed.
“Do we need to bring anything? I can whip up my famous mac n’ cheese.” You said, wanting him to know that you accepted every single part of him and his history.
“You don’t mind bein’ around a whole bunch of tough military types for the day?” Clyde asked, sounding slightly incredulous.
“If they mean a lot to you, they mean a lot to me.” You said, leaning in for a kiss.
Clyde’s heart soared, grinning against your lips as he kissed you back. He hadn’t spoken to his army buddies in a long time, at least since he had gotten a phone – otherwise he would have given them his number to call instead of having Tony send him a letter as the only way to reach him. He was nervous showing you more of that side of him, the side that had gotten injured and all the baggage that came along with it, but you had always been supportive and understanding, willing to listen and to help him through all the other bad parts of his life, he should have known you would be there for him during this too.
For the whole week leading up to the BBQ Clyde was nervous with excited energy. He had done a fashion show for you of different outfits he might wear, wanting your opinion on how he should wear his shirts. Should he shave? Should he cover his arm? Hat, or no hat?
You were patient and glad to help, giving your honest thoughts, like he should wear his shirts how he always does; tucked into his trousers and buttoned all the way up. No he shouldn’t shave, he looks handsome with the scruff he’s got, and no hat, it’ll get too hot.
You were an angel, and Clyde kept telling you that on the three hour drive up to Pittsburg, where Emmanuel lived and was hosting this whole thing. Before you two got out of the car, he gave your hand a firm squeeze, and you simply brought it to your lips and kissed the knuckles with a warm smile.
“Clyde Logan, you gentle giant how are ya?” A stocky man emerged from the front of the house when Clyde’s car beeped locked.
“I’m doing alright Emmanuel, it’s good ta see ya, you’re lookin’ pretty fit.” Clyde said, his demeanor immediately lightening up as he was crushed in a bear hug. The man, Emmanuel, ducked his head in a mock shy manner, before flexing and showing off his muscles.
“Thanks buddy! I’ve been spending a lot of time at the gym; they say swimming helps the back.” He shrugged, and Clyde just laughed. It was the first time he had laughed at something other than a corny joke you had made, and it made you grin.
“Clyde you never told us you had a smokin’ hot girlfriend!” Another man stepped out onto the front lawn, he was taller than Emmanuel, but not as tall as Clyde. You were pretty sure Clyde was always going to be the tallest man in the room, even among these guys.
“Shut up Mick,” Clyde teased without any real malice.
“Come on out back and come meet everyone!” Mick said, and the two of you followed him and Emmanuel through the house to the backyard, where it looked like a picture perfect scene out of a movie.
All the guys who were able rushed over to Clyde, and you couldn’t help but get emotional at how they all pulled him into a hug. It was clear to you that they hadn’t been together in a long time, and it warmed your heart to see them still caring about your man.
He managed to push through their wall of affection, and held out a hand for you, which you happily took.
“Everyone, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Mick and his wife Kayla, Tony and his wife Anna, Ozzie, Emmanuel, and Reuben.” Clyde introduced you, and you shook hands with everyone, leaning over to give them kisses on the cheek like you had known these people your whole life.
“It’s so nice to meet everyone.” You said truthfully.
“I bet Clyde’s told you nothin’ about us!” Ozzie laughed, giving a playful elbow to Clyde’s side. “He still the strong silent type we knew back in the day?” He asked with a grin.
“I’m afraid you’re right. But I wouldn’t have him any other way.” You said, making Clyde blush scarlet. He kissed your cheek and the whole group of men wolf whistled, but you didn’t mind, you liked showing off how in love you were with this handsome man. “I brought mac n’ cheese, I hope that was alright.” You suddenly remembered the huge tinfoil covered tray you were holding.
“Damn Clyde, she’s gorgeous and brings food? You got yourself a keeper.” Tony winked, making Clyde wrap his good arm instinctively around your waist.
“You keep your hands to yourself now Tony.” Clyde warned, but he still had that smile on his face.
You stuck by Clyde’s side the entire night. You didn’t say much, but you didn’t have to. It was the men’s night to reconnect with one another after all these years away. Clyde wasn’t the only one to have gotten injured in the roadside mine that took his arm; it took Reuben’s right leg, and had caused Tony to go deaf in his left ear, and partially blind. None of them paid any attention to anyone’s prosthetics, unless it was to comment on how nice Clyde’s arm looked, with how high tech it was.
As the day progressed and more beers were consumed, they started to reminisce about the days when they were together overseas, each one having a different version of the same story. You couldn’t help but laugh at how Clyde seemed to be the mediator whenever two men bickered over minor details in a story, he had always been the calm and collected one in the group, that much was easy to tell.
Emmanuel brought out his tripod and camera, and they set up a timer to take a couple big group photos right when the light was golden, and you offered to take some photos of just the men. Tony had taken the camera from you afterwards, and told you to go stand over by Clyde, and he snapped a couple pictures of the two of you, grinning at one another like the love sick fools you were.
Everyone talked about what they were up to in life. Mick and Kayla were starting to try and have a baby, Emmanuel was the regional manager for a real estate firm in the area, Ozzie and Reuben were both working on memoirs of their time in the war, and Tony had just gotten married to Anna not five weeks earlier.
Clyde was very humble about his life with you, only saying that he was the owner of a bar back home, and that he spent every minute there or with you. You felt like the luckiest lady in the world with the way he smiled down at you, all you could do was sing Clyde’s praises and tell them about the wonderful things he does for the folks back home.
With the evening came s’mores and the passing around of old photo albums. You couldn’t help but snuggle close to Clyde on Emmanuel’s couch as you tried to get a good luck at a young Clyde with nearly shaven hair and a boy’s face. It struck you then just how young all these guys had been, but how young Clyde was in particular. He looked like he joined right out of high school. Clyde’s grip on your hand tightened as they flipped through the pages, some a little older, one in particular of Clyde showing off the tattoo he had on his forearm. You simply put your other hand on top of his, and squeezed back, silently letting him know you were there for him.
Not so long after that came the somber goodbyes, seeing as you and Clyde had three whole hours to drive back home. It was bittersweet, no one knew when they would all have time to coordinate like this again.
“I’m real glad you came.” Tony said, as he held out his hand for a goodbye shake.
“I’m glad y’all invited me.” Clyde said shyly.
“Are you kiddin’? I went through hell tryin’ to find out where to mail that letter! You’re not an easy man to find Clyde Logan.” Tony laughed, deep and scratchy, like he had been smoking a pack a day since the war.
Clyde released your hand for the first time all evening, to pull out a piece of paper from his pocket.
“Here’s my phone number, I want you to give it to all the guys. In case y’all ever want to call or something.” Clyde said, addressing the whole small party.
As Clyde started to say his goodbyes to the folks he had missed, you went around the room and hugged everyone goodbye yourself. As you pulled away from Mick he discreetly slipped the photo of a young Clyde Logan into your hand.
“I don’t know what you’ve done to him,” Mick started with a hushed voice, “But you’ve lit a fire in him like I’ve never seen before. I’m glad he has you.” He said.
“I’m glad to have him.” You said back, with a heartfelt smile, as you hugged him again.
A week or so later, the mailman brought you a small package from Utah, and some postcards from all over the country, no doubt sent by the other members of Clyde’s group. This time you happily recognized Tony’s handwriting and left it for Clyde to open, as he hadn’t come down for breakfast yet.
You had gone to work, but when you came home you noticed a few additions of décor to your kitchen; framed photographs of Clyde and his friends from the BBQ. One of the group, one of just the men that you had taken, and one of the two of you, smiling down at each other.
Clyde’s arm and tattoo was on full display, but so was the love you two had for one another, and that outshone anything else in the world.
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thetomorrowshow · 4 years
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Slower Than Words Ch. 22
First  -  Previous  -  Next
Hey all! It’s good to be back! The break was much-needed, but I’ve missed interacting with y’all. Have a relatively calm chapter!
cw: food
~
Weeks passed, and Patton realized that lip-reading was harder than he thought it would be. Patton practiced every single day, studying the diagrams in the book and taking down notes on everything. Remus had at first practiced with him by saying a phrase and having Patton guess, but they had quickly realized that it was too advanced at this stage. Now, Remus held up a notecard with a phrase or word and said it. After going through five different different notecards, Remus would start over again without displaying the notecards. This helped Patton grasp it much quicker, and he had advanced to picking up several words that his therapists spoke in everyday conversation.
Sometimes, when he felt really excited, Patton would mimic the diagrams in the mirror, making the mouth movements for his own name, Remus's name, and Virgil's name. He already knew what his own name looked like, he found—he'd been unknowingly able to recognize it for years.
Patton always had the same translator at his doctor and therapy appointments, so he asked her a few questions about lip-reading and speaking. The woman was able to answer, usually, but there was rarely any time to get into a conversation. The woman did recommend some online resources and teachers for learning to speak, which Patton passed along to Remus. Patton didn't really understand the whole online thing yet. Virgil had tried to explain it several times, but it didn't make a lot of sense. Where did all of the information come from? Who put it there, ready for everyone to use? How was it usable?
Patton had learned how to use the internet in basic terms. He knew how to look for something in specific on Google, and he knew that Youtube was a thing because Remus liked showing him videos from it. Youtube had captions, unlike the television. Patton had found himself watching a lot of comedy videos, sometimes writing down the best jokes from them. He had a cheap blue notebook that he wrote the jokes and his notes in, and he kept it under his bed, like he used to do with his journal back ho—back at the cult.
Patton had researched the cult briefly on the internet, but had quickly become upset at seeing his own face on the cover of one of the articles that popped up. He'd closed it after seeing that several of the scientists, as well as the two prophets, were facing legal charges. That was all he'd needed to know.
Well, not really all. He'd been looking for any mention of Virgil. The one he'd read had mentioned him briefly, if not by name, and was now written in Patton's notebook: Investigations began after the appearance of two young men, both of whom required immediate medical care.
One was Remus. The other had to be Virgil. That meant Virgil was alive somewhere. Patton wondered if Virgil too was reading the articles, seeing that Patton was out, wondering how to find him.
Gosh, Patton missed him.
Right now, Patton was following along with a video on tongue movements for forming different letters. He wasn't sure that he was getting the S quite right, he'd have to ask Remus later. He took a few more notes on how to do it, then folded his notebook closed and took Father's laptop off incognito. Remus had taught him how to turn on and off incognito mode with a little wink, and now Patton used it almost every time he was on the laptop, which was only while Father was at his second job. For some reason, Patton felt that he wouldn't be allowed to do this.
He was just in time out of Father's room for Remus to get home from work, shooting him a fingergun (Virgil used to do those all the time) before throwing himself onto the couch. Patton longed to shake his shoulder, ask him for help practicing, but Remus was always tired right after work. Patton wasn't sure what he did, only that he was trying to find something else that paid better, so sometimes he would be out for hours after he was supposed to be home looking for a new job.
Patton slid into his room, flicking the light switch to turn it off. He rarely sat in his room with the light on, it made him uncomfortable. It almost felt as though someone was watching, though he knew that it was just a response developed from a traumatic situation, as his therapist had told him.
He'd barely been in his room for thirty seconds when Remus wandered in. He gestured to his mouth, and Patton watched carefully as he spoke.
“You - - - - to eat pr - - - - -.”
“One more time?” Patton signed. Remus repeated himself, but Patton still didn't pick it all up, so he asked Remus to sign it.
“You need to eat protein,” Remus signed slowly. “Diet time.”
Patton wasn't particularly hungry, but a part of regaining his body mass and retraining his body to eat normally was eating six or seven small, 'enriching' meals instead of three big ones. Remus was right, Patton realized as he checked the clock—it was time for his protein supplement, a meal usually made up of beef jerky and peanuts. Yay.
-
The weeks turned into months, and Remus decided that it was time for Patton to get some real world practice. Sure, he'd been going to therapy and all, but those folks rarely talked to him. It was time to play to Logan's weaknesses.
He brought it up over dinner one night, when Patton had already gone to bed. It rubbed him the wrong way that Logan sent him to bed instead of letting him stay up and talk to his pops, who had only been home for ten minutes. Sure, Pat had a schedule or whatever, and he had to follow it to stay healthy, but it should be his own decision. Still, there was nothing Remus could do about it. Except maybe this.
“So, when's your next day off?”
Logan shrugged. “I believe I have the morning of next Wednesday off, but that's all for next week. Why?”
Remus twirled his fork through the cheap macaroni and cheese, pretending to not be too interested in the outcome. “Just thinkin'. Pat's almost out of books again, we should probably make a trip to the library.”
Logan smiled softly at the suggestion—or maybe at Patton's name. There was no telling with the man.
“And his therapist's been saying he needs to go to a new place for enrichment or something like that. Wouldn't—”
Logan's face had already shuttered. “Absolutely out of the question. I cannot—”
“Lo, he really wants to,” Remus pleaded, letting his fork fall to the table. “He's gotta get out of this house. And what better place than a quiet library, where it's easy to watch him and sometimes there's a cop hanging out?”
“Remus, I—I can't,” Logan said, his face still stone, but now his eyes had grown sad. “I cannot, in good conscience, allow Patton to be in an unsafe environment. If I lost him again. . . .”
“You won't,” Remus cajoled. “I'll come too, watch him be safe. Just imagine how much he'll love it! Father-son bonding and all that crap!”
Logan looked down at his plate, clearly thinking deeply. Remus could almost see him weighing the options in his head. Internally, his heart rabbited, but externally Remus was the picture of calm. Hopefully. Maybe. He was probably not, but he could dream.
“I'll consider it,” Logan said eventually. “You are correct in assuming that the library is a place I would very much like to share with him. Tomorrow after tutoring Andy I will stop at the library and inquire after safety precautions. By Monday, I will have my decision.”
Remus leaned back, picking his fork up again. That was as close as he was going to get Logan tonight. If he continued to push it, Logan would completely shut down the conversation and then there'd be no chance of getting Pat out of the apartment.
They'd been watching a stupid black-and-white movie a week or three ago, and one of the characters had said a line that Patton had obviously related to. Remus had looked over to see tears brimming after the old man on screen said, “I thought I was supposed to be getting fresh air. So far, I've been in a train and a room, and a car and a room, and a room and a room.”
That probably really sucked for Patton. Remus went stir-crazy in this tiny apartment, and he was able to leave whenever he wanted. Patton left three times a week, and went straight to his appointments and then straight home. One of his doctors had actually just switched over to doing virtual appointments, so Pat was only leaving twice a week now. Kid had to be going insane.
-
Patton felt a bit like he was going insane.
He marked a tally in his notebook every day, one for each day that he had been out without Virgil. It sort of was a continuation of his tallies in the cell, but he couldn't remember where he had left off, so he had just started anew.
He had just filled a second page of tally marks. It had been months since he'd escaped, even longer since he'd seen Virgil. Every time Remus tried to tell him that everything was going to be okay, or Father told him that everything was okay, Patton felt anger simmer in his stomach. It was not okay, it couldn't be okay, it would never be okay without Virgil. Even if he had to be trapped in this horrible apartment for years, it would be wonderful with Virgil by his side.
Every day, he followed the same schedule. Therapy exercises, meals at precise times, lip-reading studies, regular reading, bed at ten PM. It was terrible.
He couldn't help but feel excited, though. He was leaving, at least for a little bit! Father had asked him if he wanted to go to the library with him tomorrow, and Patton had thought his heart was going to drop out of his chest. Both Father and Virgil had told him about libraries, and how beautiful they were, and how many books were always there.
Patton was finally going to a new place, and it was the library. All of the anger he'd been feeling over the past weeks had washed away, replaced only with anticipation. Even with Father there, this had to be the best thing to happen in months.
~
Taglist: @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog  @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides @awkwardandanxiousfander @thekitchenpan @im-an-anxious-wreck
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outlander-babes · 3 years
Text
Voyager Thoughts*
*spoilers obviously
Jamie being like “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SHOOT ME” is a whole mood
Guess what! I’m still a Roger Mac Stan
Brianna and Fiona being friends is so cute
Claire’s so proud of her child making a discovery
Do you want to shave once a month and drink deer blood in a minor fit of insanity? Become a dunbonnet today!
Good god I hate Frank so much
John literally despising Jamie is SO FUNNY
Fiona and her snackies are so sweet omg
I just love Fiona guys
Imagine not supporting your wife rip to Frank but it couldn’t be me
I’m in love with John okay?
He’s baby
HOWEVER can we PLEASE get him a loving husband and NOT a man who’s (understandably) vaguely homophobic
Rest In Peace Hector you were the best character we never met 😔✊
FUCK GENEVA ALL MY HOMIES HATE GENEVA
Lady Dunsany is cool though
Oh Willie my sweet summer child
John and Jamie playing verbal chess shouldn’t be as funny as it is
Would I die for Joe Abernathy? Yes
Frank please for the love of god go suck a whole dick
Brianna and her ugly green dress is a whole mood
Geordie is also a whole mood
Would I pass out if my wife who I thought was gone for 20 years showed up at my place of work? Undoubtedly
Claire thinking Jamie’s a pimp is really something
THE IANS!!!
FERGUS!!!
I love them your honor
Young Ian = baby
The way he warms up to Claire after figuring out who she is is SO CUTE AHHHH
Hi yes why do I keep seeing fics where Jenny isnt happy to see Claire??? Is this a show thing???
I mean come on your don’t bear hug a person and say “you even smell the same” if you’re pissed at them
OK VERY BELATED BUT I JUST REMEMBERED Claire with her PB&J is SO FUNNY
I love how young Ian was told “do NOT get Claire I’m fine” and immediately went “yeah...I’m not doing that”
NED GOWEN MY GOOD SIR I LOVE YOU
JENNY IS A LOVING SISTER WHO WENT THROUGH HELL AND JUST WANTS HER BROTHER
Respect Jenny Murray or die by my sword
I can’t believe young Ian was really kidnapped by a ship named “witchcraft”
Mother Hildegarde and all her Boutons make my heart happy
Rest In Peace baby Faith we all love you
Claire and Murphy are so funny
Elias Pound deserved better 2k21
Claire flinging herself into the ocean is kinda funny
Stern and Father Fogdan are kILLING ME
Also everyone please stan Marsali she deserves it
Claire beating the shit out of the slave auctioneer was very fun fresh and sexy of her
Did I sob for Murtagh? Of course I did I’m not a heathen
Claire’s story about Graham Menzies is so sad
Has Claire met some of Joe’s ancestors? WE’LL NEVER KNOOOOW
Mr Stern you are a joy
Claire being like “....am I being cheated on...but black jack...what????” About Jamie and John shouldn’t be as funny as it is
Listen I got a sudden vision of a round faced John Grey and now you can pry chubby cheeked John from my cold dead hands
Oh lovely geillis is back and just as bat shit crazy as ever
Uhhhhh Stan Margaret Campbell
Yi Tien Cho did what had to be done I said what I said
Once again I am asking y’all to give Lawrence Stern the respect he deserves
Ok listen I love and respect Ian and Jamie’s friendship but in the americas Duncan Innes is Jamie’s best friend
Claire bashing in Geillis’ head with an ax in a fit of rage is really everything I could have wanted and more
THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA AND THE ROADS ARE PAVED WITH CHEESE
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musicfren · 4 years
Text
Love Stinks
Gosh, this prompt is very rude just giving me the most correct title for it right in the name! Let me make up my own titles :P @nottesilhouette definitely had absolutely no interest in this prompt until I made her do it, so i’m really grateful to her for putting up with my nonsense <3 Have a good @felinettenovember y’all!
 Felix could not stand the smell of camembert. It had been his father's cheese of choice, a rancid symbol of everything stuffy, stuck-up and aloof that he represented. The universe had a cruel sense of humor however, and had decided to saddle him with the one ancient cat spirit in the whole world who could not get enough of it. To feed Plagg’s insatiable appetite, Felix needed an almost constant supply of the stuff. He had back-up stashes for his back-up stashes. He kept handfuls of the stinking cheese in his pockets wherever he went. When he fell asleep at night, his last sensation before merciful darkness swallowed him was the lingering aftertaste of that accursed camembert.
It should hardly have been a surprise then, when Marinette took notice. She already seemed to know every single thing about him, things he was barely even aware of himself. It was a good thing they loved each other. It scared him sometimes, the way she could just pick apart the tiny scraps of information on his surface and reconstruct the deepest parts of himself to examine. So of course, she had noticed the smell. Worse still, she had taken note of it.
She made her move with an excited wiggle over lunch one afternoon as they sat beneath the maple trees a few blocks from her house.
“Hey, Feeeeeeeelix?” She asked, a self-satisfied grin spreading across her features.
Felix looked up from his incredibly bland salad. “Yes?”
“I got a present for you! I’m really proud of it, I think you’ll really like it.”
She reached into her bag and, with a flourish, pulled out a delicately wrapped package. Inside, perfectly powdered and shaped with such loving care, was a camembert danish.
“I...” Felix looked down at the pastry before him and clamped down on his gag reflex so hard it nearly broke. Dear god, not here. Not now. Don’t let her notice. Don't...
Mistaking the source of his speechlessness, Marinette reached over and took his hand in hers, giving it a little squeeze.
“I’ve been trying to find something you liked that I could put in a pastry for so long! I really wanted to make something special for you!”
Felix looked into her bright, expectant, wonderful eyes, and realized there was no way out of this. He would gladly choose death over disappointing her, and this was only slightly worse.
“Thank you! How… how did you know it was my favorite?” 
From that point on, Marinette decided to personally see to it that Felix was never without camembert. She would find times to give him small treats of it between classes, slip a pastry into his lunch bag when he wasn’t looking, prepare him an extra special dessert when he was feeling down. She liked to watch him eat it too, looking at him so hopefully expectant until he took the first bite and told her how much he liked it. Felix’s life revolved around camembert. Everything he owned smelled of it. Any leftovers were quietly fed to the ravenous Plagg, who had never been so happy in his entire existence.
“Well I’m not normally one for romance, but I must say this love of yours is paying off wonderfully!”
Felix had thrown one of his eight camembert muffins at him then, which had only made the irritating cat sprite cackle louder.
Then, after nearly two cheese-scented weeks, Felix made a revelation. They were sitting together eating lunch under the same maple trees where this ordeal had all started, when Marinette spoke up.
“You know I’m… really glad you like camembert actually,” she said, contemplatively turning over her half a muffin. Felix, who was mid-way through forcing down the other half of said muffin, stopped to give her a quizzical “huh?” 
“I just… no one else seems to like it.” She continued “I used to make these pastries for myself all the time, and I could never share them with my parents.”
She chuckled a bit at the memory. “They have to buy this stuff just for me! No one else in my family eats it. It’s… nice to have someone to share it with.”
Felix was silent, but the beginnings of a thought were growing about his mind. Marinette had been trying so hard to do something good for him, and he wished so bad there was something he could do in return. Maybe there was something he could do.
Felix was not a very good chef, but Marinette had shown him a few recipes, and he had determination on his side. He worked through the night, pounding and cajoling the unwilling ingredients as Plagg darted about his shoulders. By the morning Felix was a baggy-eyed mess, but his work was complete. He invited her over that evening.
“I’ve um… really appreciated all the pastries you made for me.” Felix started awkwardly, as Marinette tried to peek around him to see what this was all about. “And I thought I could make something for you. With our… mutual favorite ingredient.”
With a stiff flourish, he revealed his creation: A towering camembert cake. Every inch of it was deliciously coated in rancid cheese, lovingly crafted across dozens of sleepless, nose-pinched hours. Marinette was beside herself.
“Oh, Felix! You shouldn’t have.”
As the two of them, Felix almost managing to match her enthusiasm, set to work on the cake, Plagg watched sullenly from a corner. All of Felix’s camembert had gone into this cake. Every stash and back-up stash had been emptied to fuel the fires of love, and Plagg knew he would not be eating for at least a week.
“Man,” he grumbled, “love stinks!”
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