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babbushka · 3 years

Note

Some of those prompts are so funny! Can you please write this one for Flip or a Kylo AU? It’s hilarious!

“I may be loves bitch but at least I’m man enough to admit it.”

A/N: This silly little something is completely inspired by chatting with my dear friend @safarigirlsp !

2k, Flip chugging his respect women juice aka being his wife's #1 fan (he's a lil confused but he's got the spirit) cw: lowkey 1970s misogyny

Flip’s about ready to bang his head on the fucking desk in front of him from frustration, when he hears it. Those magic words that somehow get him through the day, each and every day, when the hours drone on and on and on at the station, when he feels like he’s been there for six years instead of only six hours.

In the habit that he and Ron have built up ever since being desk neighbors in the narcotics unit’s special glass office, Ron has finally come around and saved him from sudden death by boredom, by slapping a hand on Flip’s shoulder and happily announcing, “Present for you in the lobby.”

“Shit it’s already lunch?” Perking up at once, Flip shoves himself away from his desk, sparing a glance to his watch and seeing that it was in fact noon. He doesn’t even bother to push his chair in as he weaves through the other desks in the office on his way to the door, stopping himself before practically bolting to ask, “Thanks Ron, you stickin’ around? She said she was bringing stuff over for us.”

Ron only nods, knowing that Flip wants to get to you as quickly as possible, and so he spares him the conversation so that the detective can do just that.

You’re beautiful, as you always are, in the lobby of the CSPD. Currently chatting away with one of the secretaries at the front desk, you’re dressed in that new outfit Flip likes so much, your hair done up all pretty and fashionable. Instantly, his day is made better just by your being here -- something that he’s grateful for, because his day had been pretty fucking trying up until this point.

“Hi honey!” You catch sight of him, face lighting up, and Flip can’t resist a smile when you’re so happy to see him like this.

His cowboy boots take him across the lobby and into your arms, and he’s immediately taking the weight of the basket that you’re carrying out of your hands, placing it gently on the floor so he can squeeze you tight with a hug and a kiss.

“Hey ketsl, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He pats your ass lovingly, before picking up the basket and leading you through the lobby back towards the rec room.

“Right back at you handsome, I hope you’re hungry, I brought you the biggest roast beef sandwich I could possibly make.” You wink at him, and like clockwork, his stomach growls, making him chuckle a little.

“You’re a fuckin’ miracle and a half, I’m starvin’ -- ”

Suddenly, you stop with a frown, looking through the little window of the door to the conference room as you pass by it.

“What’s going on in there?” You ask, pointing your thumb in the room’s direction, and Flip doesn’t know what you mean.

“Huh?”

“Is there a meeting that you’re missing?” You ask, and Flip frowns then, because he doesn’t think so anyway.

But save for Jimmy and Ron, it looks like the entire narcotics unit is crammed into the conference room, along with a handful of rookie cops, homicide detectives, janitors, and even some of the press. They’re all watching someone draw a big graph on the black board, the unmistakable sound of chalk squeaking punctuating the speaker’s passionate presentation.

“No, Chief would’ve said something...oh for fuck’s sake.” It takes Flip two seconds to recognize what’s on the chart, and immediately he’s shaking his head.

It’s a line graph, the Hot-Crazy Matrix, this new thing that’s got all the men in the country thinking they know everything about women. The gist is the hotter a woman is, the crazier she gets, and everything about it rubs Flip the wrong fuckin’ way, especially when he presses his ear against the door and listens in on what they’re actually saying.

“...If you find yourself in the Fun Zone, your main goal is to move out of the Fun Zone to a more permanent location.” “Now above the ‘crazy’ line, we have the Danger Zone. This is your redheads, your strippers, uh, anyone named Tiffany -- ”

“Hairdressers!” One of the men from the back of the room shouts.

“Yes, hairdressers, this is where your car gets keyed, your tires get slashed, and you wind up in jail. At this point you have to understand that this is not a static environment. This is a situation where you have got to use this matrix over time to develop some relatable data. At any moment in time, any woman that you have previously located on this chart can vanish, and reappear anywhere else on the chart.”

“Let me break this up really quick -- ” Flip reaches for the door with a dark scowl on his face, but you put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“No.” You look at him with wide, playful eyes, “No I think we should sit in on it, see what they say. Cause a little trouble.”

Flip loves the way you think, and with a sigh, he makes sure you stay behind him as you both slip through the door, unnoticed with how quiet you are. All eyes are on the blackboard as the speaker -- a greasy looking beat cop -- draws a line on the chart.

“Now, above an eight ‘hot’ and between a seven and a five ‘crazy’, this is your Wife Zone. When you meet this girl, you should consider a long term relationship. And if you find a woman who is below a five crazy, and above an eight hot, this is your Unicorn. We call them that because they do not exist. If you happen to find one, please uh let us know, we’d like to study it and try if we can, to replicate it.”

There’s a round of laughter from the crowd, and Flip can feel your hand tense in his own. He’s practically unable to hold himself back, when the cop finally sets down the chalk, dusts off his hands, and regards the room as someone else turns the lights back on.

“Anyone have any questions?” The cop asks, and Flip’s clearing his throat before he knows what he’s even doing.

“Yeah, hi.” Drawing all attention to him, Flip puts his hands on his hips, towers tall above all the other men in the room by at least three inches, and deadpans, “Have any of you actually spoken to a woman before? I mean, for longer than the two minutes it takes for them to reject you.”

That’s clearly not what the men in front of him were expecting, because they just blink, slackjawed like the morons they are.

“What?” The speaker asks, caught off guard.

Flip sighs, lights up a cigarette and crosses his arms over his chest, puffing out a big intimidating cloud of smoke.

“Show of hands, who here is married?” He waits, and predictably, no one comes forward. He knows this, because he knows all the married couples at the station. You make it a point to know them, anyway. “Okay then, well, who here has a girlfriend? Who here has ever had a girlfriend?”

Still no hands, and maybe Flip shouldn’t be surprised, the kind of men that believe this shit are the kind of men that either wind up alone or abusing poor women that they can manipulate into staying with them, and Flip doesn’t have the time or energy for it much longer.

“Interesting.” He muses, having made his point while the room murmurs amongst themselves.

One particularly stupid cop makes the mistake of trying to be a tough guy, some pipsqueak five-foot-four wannabe wrestler speaks up from near the front of the room, “We don’t need your condescending bullshit, okay, Zimmerman -- ”

“And women don’t need your bullshit charts splitting them into categories of fuckable or not, and yet here you are.” Flip cuts him off, and you feel a sense of pride blooming in your chest. Flip is a good boy, it’s why you married him after all.

“You’re only saying that because your wife is standing right next to you.” The cop tries to push his buttons, and maybe it’s because Flip hasn’t eaten yet, but anger itches up his spine, and soon the crowd is parting like the Red Sea, for Flip who is gunning straight for him.

“Oh yeah? How’d you think I got my wife you piece of shit? Because I promise it wasn’t by treating her like some shiny object to win.” Flip grabs the cop by the front of his uniform, and hoists him clean off the floor so that he can pull him up to eye level.

“Well then maybe you got lucky and married the only woman in Colorado Springs who isn’t a huge bitch.” The cop doesn’t know when to quit, does he?

“That’s not fucking true, my wife is a bitch and I love her for it.” Flip’s temper flares, and he’s about to raise his fist to punch this guy in the face, when he hears your voice from across the conference room where you’ve been watching with an amused smile.

“Flip, come on let’s go eat, lunch is getting cold.” You say, even though technically the sub sandwiches were supposed to be cold anyway. They don’t need to know that though.

Flip drops the schmuck, lets him fall to the floor with a thud, and walks towards your outstretched hand. Apparently that’s funny to the guy, because he slaps his knee and scoffs with a dry laugh.

“See? You’ve gone soft from love. Maybe we’re better off without it.” He tries to get the other guys to chime in, but they at least know what’s good for them, and instead just scratch the back of their necks, averting Flip’s gaze.

“I may be love’s bitch but at least I’m man enough to admit it.” Flip places his hand in yours, and you give his palm a tight reassuring squeeze. Looking down at you sweetly, he flicks the ash of his cigarette onto the floor and holds the door open for you leaving the conference room with a patronizing, “And at least I have a damn good woman to come home to. You losers enjoy your pity party.”

Finally in the rec room, you and Flip relax with Ron and Jimmy, your CSPD boys enjoying the big sub sandwiches you made and brought over. The little excursion in the conference room ate up only about fifteen minutes of Flip’s lunch hour, something that you and your husband are happy about. He’d be pissed off if he wasted any more time than that.

Everyone enjoyed the sandwiches and bottles of pop, most especially your Flip, who happily sat you down on his lap and wound his arms around you, feeling extra possessive.

“Out of curiosity, where in that chart would you put me?” You ask Flip, expecting him to take a couple moments to mentally weigh his options.

To your unamused surprise, Flip, Ron, and Jimmy all unanimously answer just about as soon as you’ve finished asking the damn question, not one of them even bothering to swallow their sandwich first before replying, “Danger Zone.”

“Hey!” You smack Flip’s chest with a scoff, and Ron and Jimmy immediately break out into laughter.

“You asked.” Jimmy points out with a shrug, just lucky that he’s out of your reach, lest he get smacked too. Ron also dips out of the way, but it’s only a moment later that Flip’s got his hold on you tighter, preventing you from swatting at your friends.

Flip holds you and kisses all over your cheek, his goatee tickling you as he presses his face against yours, nuzzling his nose against yours sweetly even though he’s basically just called you crazy.

“I married you anyway, didn’t I?” Flip’s big brown eyes try to sweeten the deal, and as much as you want to give him a hard time for being such a dork, you have to admit that it works.

“Thin ice, Zimmerman, thin ice.” You shake your head playfully, relaxing into Flip’s embrace a little as he settles you properly onto his lap again from where you were a wiggle worm, squirming away.

“You love me.” Flip smiles.

And despite it all you have to roll your eyes and grin because, “Yeah, I really do.”

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Tagging some Flip lovin’ friends! @mochabucky@sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions@direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux@kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow@babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks@materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000@rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings@groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless@angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975@cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen@caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #adam driver fanfic #adcu #flip zimmerman fanfic #flip zimmerman imagine #blackkklansman

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onlydreamofmysoul · 3 years

Text

The Prince and The Pornstars

Chapter Two

Here we are! Chapter two! I am so freaking blown away by your responses yesterday! I’m so glad you guys are liking it as much as I am!!

Characters of course by the lovely @lumosinlove

Logan

The pretty redhead was utterly clueless about this industry, but Logan didn’t mind.

“I um, so I uh, I need to…” Finn was stuttering, his cheeks ablaze and Logan felt a flutter of fondness for the man.

“Here,” He said, patting the bench next to him, “Asseyez-vous.”

Finn stared at him helplessly for a minute and Logan laughed. “Sit down Red.”

Finn did so, seeming grateful for it, still looking at Logan nervously. “I’m sorry,” He blurted out, “I’ve just never done anything like this and I have no idea what to do and I’m not trying to be unprofessional but I mean I really have no clue how any of this works and I-”

Logan laughed as he pressed his finger against Finn’s lips. “Shhh, it’s alright.” Finn’s shoulders slumped. “It is pretty weird when you start.” Logan admitted but then he shrugged, “But at the end of the day, it’s just a job. When you’re on set, just think of it as mechanical. There are certain things you must do to keep it working.”

Finn nodded. “Mechanics, yeah I can do that.”

“We’re people though off set,” Logan felt the need to add, raising an eyebrow. “Sometimes that part is forgotten. At the end of the day this is just our job.”

“No, no no! Of course you’re people, I never-”

Logan hushed Finn again, unable to stop his laughter. “Mon dieu mon rouge, you really are a nervous wreck. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun.” Logan let his voice soften, “Are you sure you’re okay to do this?”

Finn nodded, meeting Logan’s eyes, his expression steely and suddenly Logan couldn’t quite catch his breath. At first all he saw was a blushing, stuttering rookie but then suddenly there was a person in front of him and his eyes were a gorgeous deep shade and Logan could barely remember what he had even meant to say.

“I’m sure.”

Logan wetted his lips, trying his utmost not to let his eyes drift to Finn’s own and nodded. “Okay. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Logan reached out and took Finn’s warm hand in his own and guided it to his semi-hard dick, clenching his jaw as Finn tentatively wrapped his fingers around him.

“Like this?” Finn breathed and Logan met his eyes again and found himself unable to look away. Finn stroked his cock slowly, gaining speed as he got more confident, making Logan’s breathing stutter as he circled his thumb over the head. Logan forced himself to look away - he was the one who told Finn this was purely a mechanical matter and yet here he was, getting far too caught up in the whole affair. He stared down at the ground, swallowing with some difficulty as he felt himself building closer and closer to orgasm.

“That’s enough.” He ground out to Finn. Finn’s hand stopped moving, but didn’t pull away.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Logan gasped, “Yeah all good, thanks Rookie.”

Finn smiled weakly at him, then stood up and moved to the side, walking over to Remus when the other man beckoned him over. Logan nodded to the director and everyone set up to continue, Sirius coming back to Logan’s side as Logan watched Remus and Finn chat out of the corner of his eye.

“We have a new fluffer it seems.” Sirius commented, bumping Logan’s shoulder playfully as he sat back down. Logan looked at him wryly. “Not that it makes much difference to you.”

Sirius chuckled and his gaze flitted to Remus. “Non. Or to you for all intents and purposes. All you really need is Leo, ouais?”

Logan smiled softly, feeling some of the confusion flicker away. “Ouais. Yeah he’s all I need.”

“Okay boys,” The director, Arthur called. “Are you ready?”

Sirius and Logan both gave him a thumbs up, then Logan climbed onto Sirius’ lap to get back into position, while people on set called out instructions.

“Logan, tilt your head to the other side.”

“Sirius, both hands on his hips please.”

“Okay, faces a little closer!”

Logan and Sirius did as instructed as quickly as possible and then they were rolling again. Logan leaned down and kissed Sirius lazily, tilting his head the way he knew gave the best camera angle. He knew the crew were shuffling around them but he tuned them out in order to focus on what would look the best.

“Okay Sirius, hands in his hair please,” Arthur called and seconds later, Logan felt Sirius gripping his curls. “Logan, when you’re ready, get on your knees and say your line.”

Logan pulled away from Sirius and sank to his knees, dragging his hand down Sirius’ chest, over the rigid lines of his abdomen until he gripped his cock.

“I’ll show you what a real workout is.” He said and without pause, he took Sirius’ entire cock in his mouth.

Not many men could say they could take the entirety of someone the size of Sirius Black. Logan had seen his fair share of dicks over the years, but very few could compare to Sirius size wise. Logan however, happened to be in love with one of the few people who could compete, so let's just say he had a little experience with something that big in his mouth.

“Hands in his hair again please Sirius.” Someone called and then Sirius was guiding Logan, making it look like Logan was just being used fir Sirius’ pleasure. “Alright, Logan now start stroking yourself.”

Logan did as they asked while Sirius tilted his head back, gasping and moaning loudly. Logan in turn played his part well, groaning once or twice and fucking into his own fist. Logan looked up into Sirius’ eyes as he sucked, swirling his tongue around the shaft.

“Sirius, finish on Logan like we discussed whenever you’re ready.”

“You want to taste me? Bet you just dream about me coming in your mouth.” Sirius muttered, saying his lines perfectly. Logan in turn whimpered and nodded as best he could with a cock in his mouth. “Or maybe I should cover you with my cum so everyone will see what a bad boy you are.” With that, Sirius pulled out of Logan’s mouth and came in streams, all over Logan’s face while Logan himself pulsed in his own hand.

Sirius leaned forward and licked a strip up Logan’s face before standing up and walking towards the ‘door’ of the locker room. “Same time next week?” He said with a wink over his shoulder and Logan groaned his assent.

“And cut! Lovely work boys!”

Logan gladly accepted the robe which he pulled on while Finn came over to wipe down his face with a warm cloth.

“So, what did you think?” He teased. Finn froze for a moment before continuing to help Logan clean up.

“It was uh, good? Yeah you were really good this was honestly nothing like I expected.”

Logan nodded. “Yeah it’s really not that not when people are yelling instructions at you.”

Finn froze and Logan could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “There’s um, there’s some in your hair.”

Logan sighed, resisting the urge to feel for himself, knowing he would just make it worse. “Yeah I figured. I’m gonna shower anyways so I’ll just get it out then.”

He stood up and smiled at Finn who still seemed more flustered than Logan thought a person could even be. “I’ll see you around Red?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m not going anywhere.”

Logan smiled as he walked away. Finn seemed a little innocent for this business but all the same, Logan hoped he lasted here. He couldn’t quite explain what it was but there was just something in him that told him he needed to see that boy again.

Logan stepped out of the shower into his little dressing room to see Leo waiting for him on the couch. The room was tiny, really just a place for Logan to have a little privacy but it was perfect for what Logan needed. He and Leo always spent at least ten minutes together like this after filming ended just to come back from pornstars to people, taking a minute just to breathe and settle into themselves.

“Hey there Nutter-Butter.” He greeted as Leo looked up from where he was scrolling through his phone and smiled. Logan quickly threw on his pants and a hoodie and slotted himself between Leo’s legs. He rested his cheek on Leo’s chest, sighing happily as his boyfriend’s warmth seeped into him.

“Hi baby.” Leo said, cupping Logan’s cheek and tilting Logan’s head up for a quick kiss before settling back down again. “Good day?”

Logan hummed, slipping his hands under Leo’s shirt just to feel the press of their skin together. He could hear Leo’s heartbeat and it was steady, Logan’s constant.

“Yeah it was good. Remus told the funniest story about his brother, filming was delayed by ten minutes ‘cause everyone was laughing so hard.” Leo chuckled, one hand coming up to stroke through Logan’s damp hair. “There’s also a new fluffer.” Logan added, his thoughts flitting to Finn.

“Oh yeah? What’re they like?”

“His name is Finn, he was working with me today.” Logan yawned, stroking Leo’s sides almost for his own benefit than Leo’s. “He seems nice.”

“Oh, is he the guy with red hair? I think I passed him in the corridor today with Celeste.”

Logan nodded. “Yeah that’s him.”

Leo kissed Logan’s curls. “He’s cute.”

Logan sighed, thinking about how one of two of Finn’s darker freckles were the same shade as his eyes. “Yeah he is.” He moved, crossing his arms under his chin so he could look up at Leo properly. “How was your day sweetheart?”

“It was okay. Kind of boring because I was just getting the filming schedule for the week and running lines and stuff. Nothing interesting to report.” He brushed his thumb over Logan’s cheekbone, “It meant I got to come here to you quickly though so I suppose it was worth it.”

Logan snorted, rolling his eyes. “Sap.”

Leo just grinned. “You love me though.”

Logan kissed him. “Yeah, yeah I really do.” He pulled away but Leo chased his lips so he conceded, laughing as he pressed into Leo’s touch.

“Come on,” He mumbled, pulling away just enough to talk but still close enough that they were breathing each other’s air. “Let’s go home.”

Leo groaned but got up, shoving on his shoes and grabbing his jacket. “Okay,” He said, tucking Logan under his arm as they strolled out. “What will we have for dinner?” Logan just hummed and snaked his arm around Leo’s waist. “Whatever you want Peanut, whatever you want.”

#the prince and the pornstars #the prince and the pornstars chapter 2 #coast to coast lumosinlove #lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #Leo knut #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #o'knutzy #18+

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

Text

Prank Your Way Into My Heart (Alex Morgan x Reader)

Request: @Androgynousmoneyflowervoid: Alex Morgan is mean because she is scared of her feelings for the reader and reader thinks Alex hates her. Reader confronts Alex and they get into a fight and Alex tells the reader that she had feelings for her.

Pranks were a massive part of the USWNT culture. You had known that going in. You had accepted that you were most likely going to be the target of many of the team’s shenanigans because everyone liked to pick on the newbie. The baby, the rookie of the team as they had taken to calling you. To your surprise, the team had pretty much welcomed you with open arms. Krashlyn immediately taking you under their wing, and the youngins accepting you into their group with little fuss.

Everyone seemed to like you. Everyone except Alex. It was like she had made it her personal duty to make your life a living hell. You took the first few pranks on the chin, smiling along with the rest of the team when you walked into your shared room after practice to find it plastered with sticky notes. Or when you woke up for practice only to be trapped in your bed by thousands of cups half-filled with water. Or when she had saran wrapped all of the pieces of your soccer kit.

The pranks had been harmless, and in the beginning, you thought that it was just a tradition for a singular veteran to mess with their rookie, but then the pranks didn’t stop. You didn’t mind at first. You might have even secretly enjoyed the way Alex’s dimples looked after one of her tricks on you. Or how her cackle filled the room. You hadn’t minded being the butt of the joke if you got to hear that giggle. She was fucking gorgeous, and you may have had a tiny (massive) crush on the forward since before you even joined the team. The problem though was that the pranks hadn’t stopped. No, they seemed to be getting worse, and today you were truly not in the mood to deal with this shit.

Team practice hadn’t gone well for you. You just couldn’t seem to get into a rhythm. You were groggy from being woken up at 3 am by your roommate Alex’s brilliant idea to dump ice water on you, and your sleepiness made it laughably easy for Emily to defend all of your attacks on goal. Your passes were sloppy and not even Lindsey’s jokes could lift your grumpy mood. You were incredibly relieved when Vlatko called practice and released you to all go change in the locker room. All you wanted to was to get back to the hotel and go to sleep.

You ripped your soaked tank top over your head, tossing it on the bench beside you, and began digging through your bag in search of your favorite sweatshirt in hopes that it would provide some of the comfort that you were desperately craving. You groaned when you realized that it was missing. You dropped the bag, whipping around and glaring at the blue-eyed woman who was already smirking at you from across the room.

“Ok, where the fuck is my shirt?” You growled, marching over to Alex. Her Cheshire cat-like smile widened at your rage, her eyes shining in the most hypnotizing way.

“Why are you asking me, rookie?” She shrugged, bringing both of her hands up behind her head and stretching out her legs. God, she was enjoying the way your abs flexed with each annoyed breath you took.

“Because you’re the only one who can’t seem to stop messing with my stuff,” You spat back, pointing your finger in her face. Her eyes left yours and shifted to the way your bicep was put on display with each angry jab of your finger.

“What can’t take a joke?” She laughed, wiggling her eyebrows, proud that she could get this far under your skin. Sure there were more… pleasurable ways, but your adorable angry face made her hesitant to stop. That and the fact that you were almost 10 years younger than her. If she couldn’t have you the way that she wanted, well, this was a good substitute.

“Not when I’m the only one who’s getting messed with,” You scowled, taking a step closer to the woman with each word until your finger is planted firmly in her chest. You try not to think about how her heart feels hammering against your finger, or how good she smells. You’re supposed to be angry, outraged.

“Slow down kid. Why don’t you go shower first? By the time you get out, I’m sure your clothes will have turned up,” Ashlyn intervenes, appearing out of nowhere to wrap an arm around your middle and pull you away from Alex, who looks more amused than afraid. You weren’t known for being a hothead, but none of the girls had ever seen you get so pissed off.

“No. Last time I showered in the locker room, someone dumped ice on me, and the time before that she doused my favorite sweats in paint. All I want is my shirt so I can get on the freaking bus,” You snarled, shoving your self-appointed team mom’s arm away from you. Alex didn’t want you here, that much was obvious. But you were here none the less and didn’t understand why she couldn’t just leave you the fuck alone.

“I told you that I don’t have it,” She smirked, showing off her dimples as she raised her hands in innocence. She really didn’t have it, not anymore. It wasn’t her fault that you were generous enough to… donate it to a few of the kids who had snuck into the stadium to watch the practice. You lunged at the woman, the angry words coming out of your mouth as garbled gibberish, only to be stopped again by Ashlyn’s arm.

“Alright, I think that’s enough. Take mine, and go get on the bus, and you stay away from her,” Ali said, with authority, stepping in between your very angry form and Alex’s laughing body. You struggled for a few more seconds, the team watching as frustrated tears left your eyes before you finally went limp. You shrugged Ashlyn’s arm off, pulling on the shirt Tobin offered you and huffed out the door.

The room was silent, most of your team shocked by your outburst. You were usually like a little ray of sunshine, always smiling and laughing. They had never seen you so angry. Alex’s eyes were glazed over, staring into space. Who the fuck gave you the right to look so hot and adorable at the same time when you were pissed?

“You know, I think you’d have better luck if you just told her how you felt instead of acting like a middle school boy,” Kelley said after a few minutes, settling down beside the star forward and pulling her out of her thoughts. She sighed. She didn’t like that she had hurt you, but finally admitting her feelings for you was too terrifying to even consider. Yes, she was acting like a child, but having you this way was better than having you avoid her because she freaked you out. Was it healthy to push you away to avoid rejection? No. But if she never told you how she felt, then you could never turn her down.

“But she’s so cute when she’s mad, and have you seen those abs,” Alex murmured, biting her lip. Kelley shook her head. How oblivious could two people be? The two of you were always sharing longing glances, and you kept trying to be Alex’s friend, despite her horrible treatment of you. You both stared at each other like lovesick puppies, and she was tired of you getting hurt.

“I’m sure she’d willingly show them to you if you asked, rather than destroy her property,” Kelley grumbled, and the rest of the room snorted. Just because the two of you were oblivious to each other didn’t mean the rest of the team followed suit. If they could just convince Alex to get over her hesitance due to the age issue, or the fear of rejection, then the entire team dynamic would be better off. They really needed to get rid of the sexual tension that followed the two of you as it was always a bit distracting.

“Hm…” Alex hummed back noncommittally. Why would you pick her over someone like Mal, or Emily or any one of the other youngins you were always hanging with? In her mind you wouldn’t, and why would she need to tell you about her feelings if the plan was already set into place for her to see your abs again. The team shared worried looks, knowing what Alex’s demeanor meant, they could only hope that it wasn’t as bad as the time she had turned all of your t-shirts into crop tops.

*****

They would find out exactly what she had done not even two hours later. Most of the team was gathered in the conference room munching on whatever food the staff had put out for them. They hoped that excitement for the day was done, but Alex’s smirk and the bouncing of her leg told them that it wasn’t.

You had avoided everyone when you arrived at the hotel, longing for a hot shower and a good nap before you had to deal with the fallout of your outburst. Everything had been going fine until you caught a glance at yourself in the steamy mirror. Your normal Y/H/C was far from its normal shade.

“What the actual fuck Alex,” You yelled, slamming open the dining-room door, and storming up the women in question. She took in your very angry, very wet form staring down at her clad in nothing but a sports bra and some basketball shorts. She could only assume that you had seen your hair before you had the chance to put on a shirt.

“How do you know that it was me?” She smiled up innocently at you, biting her lip at the fact that your abs (which just happened to have little water droplets dripping down them) were mere inches from her face.

“Because who the fuck else would think dying my hair pink was a good idea, and you’re the only one that had the other key to our room” You spat, clacking your teeth and lifting a strand of the hair in question.

“Well, you did say that you needed to liven it up a little bit,” She shrugged. Maybe it was more of the fact that she had thought you would look better in pink, the same shade of pink as her favorite pre-wrap. At least she hadn’t been wrong.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” You glowered, running a frustrated hand through you now ruined hair. You had wanted to do something cool, like different shades of blue and teal, but now you looked like a fucking flamingo.

“Mmm, did I?” She challenged and her interest peaking as you turned your glare to the floor. It seemed that all Alex wanted was to humiliate you in front of the world, and now she had gotten her wish. You shook your head, it was fine when the pranks were kept within the team, but this was so much farther beyond that. There would be no way for you to hide this from the media, and you weren’t looking forward to their mean comments.

“You know what, I don’t know what your fucking problem is with me, but I’m sick of you fucking picking on me,” You growled, channeling your frustration and raising to your full height. She may never feel the way you felt about her, but that didn’t give her the right to be an asshole.

“I don’t have a problem,” She denied, but the gloating smile on her face told you differently.

“I’d beg to differ. What did I ever do to you to make you fucking hate me?” You finally broke, unable to hold back your frustrated tears any longer. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words would come out. Your fingers tugged roughly at your hair.

“I don’t hate you Y/n,” Alex said softly, her joyful demeanor crumbling, her shoulders slumping. She hadn’t meant to push this far, it had just been so hard to stop.

“Do you just think I’m not good enough? I swear that I won’t bring the team down. I can get-” You started to ramble, your tears making it very difficult to understand what you were saying. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you failed to notice the soft hands gripping your shoulders or the fact that Alex’s face was getting very close to your own.

Her lips touched yours midway through your self deprecating rant, your eyes growing wide when her soft flesh touched your own, before slamming shut and remembering that it was probably a good idea to kiss her back. And you did. Your lips moved in harmony, a symphony of fireworks exploding behind your eyes.

You had dreamed of this moment for as long as you would remember, praying that one day you would finally be given the chance to fight for the woman’s heart. You had all but given up hope that she felt the way you did, but with her tongue gently probing your bottom lip, you couldn’t help the butterflies that filled your chest. Her hands migrated from your shoulders to the baby hairs at the back of your neck, pulling your closer, while yours found the curve of her hips.

Air became an issue within seconds, and you reluctantly pulled away, taking in large gulping breaths, and instead of taking a step back, Alex followed you, connecting your foreheads.

“What?” You asked breathlessly, trying to ignore both the loud wolf whistles of your teammates and the heat from your blushing cheeks.

“I’m was being an ass, and I’m sorry,” “It’s just, I didn’t know how to tell you. You’re just so young, and to be honest, the way you make me feel scares the crap out of me,” She confessed, and you could see the honesty and insecurity in her bright blue eyes. You placed a sweet kiss on her lips, realizing that you were slowly becoming addicted to them.

“So you thought it was better to push me away then to tell me that you liked me?” It was your turn to smirk at her.

“It’s not an excuse. I’m so sorry that I hurt you, and if you hated me, I would understand,” She mumbled, leaning peck your lips this time, and you huffed.

“I don’t hate you. I’ve actually had a crush on you for the longest time…” You giggled, pinching the skin that was exposed by her shirt riding up. You would never admit it, but you had plastered your walls with posters of the women’s national team growing up, and you may or may not have had a propensity doodle your favorite players number all over all of your notebooks.

“Hmm,” Alex hummed against your lips, wondering exactly how long ‘the longest time’ was, and thanking her lucky stars that she hadn’t entirely fucked up her chances with you.

“Does this mean you’ll stop messing with me,” You whined, pulling away from her face and burying your nose in her neck.

“As long as I don’t have to steal your stuff anymore to see those abs,” She giggled at your adorableness, running her hands through your newly pink hair. You sighed in contentment into her neck.

“Why don’t you buy me dinner first,” You muttered sarcastically raising your eyebrow and, leaning back to finally look her in the eyes.

“I think that can be arranged,” She shot you a wide smile, her cheeks turning blood red when your teammates started cheering again, bantering about how you two finally got your shit together.

“I can’t believe Alex basically pranked her way into your pants,’ Kelley snorted after a few minutes, and you couldn’t help the cackle that left your lips. You were smooth, but no one was smoother than Alex. Hopefully, she could woo you as well as she could prank you.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine

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willykappymarnsmatts · 3 years

Text

Angels Like You (Can't Fly Down Here With Me)(Chapter 4)(A. Matthews/M. Marner)

Mitch and Auston roll into practice together and park next to the same entrance they do every single practice. Business as usual, even though all Mitch wants to do is crawl back into bed and cry or actually murder someone with all the conflicted feelings he has. Auston being at his place this morning has made it slightly more bearable though. Just his presence makes everything seem kind of okay, and as they get out of the car, it’s almost as if he reads Mitch’s mind and puts his hand on his thigh and squeezes gently, in an effort to comfort him enough to stop him from actually vibrating with nerves. “You gonna be okay? I can always tell Keefe you’re too hungover, or sick, or whatever you want the story to be.”

Mitch’s breath catches, which he blames on Auston forcing him out of his head so suddenly, not on his touch, and smiles a bit, but shakes his head. “I’m okay. Honestly. I think this is the best thing for me right now, to just continue life as usual.”

Auston knows he’s lying, knows Mitch well enough to tell when he’s not being totally honest, but he smiles at him anyways and nods. “If you need anything just tell me, alright? Anything.” Auston actually might jump in front of a bus with how overly affectionate he knows he sounds, but Mitch smiles slightly and glances at Auston before looking back down at his lap, and he forgets to be disgusted with himself. They drag themselves out of the car and as they grab their bags, Will comes up from behind them and pushes himself between the two of them, an arm around each of their shoulders.

“Morning, boys,” Will starts, all too energetic and bubbly for the tense air around them. It breaks the grey cloud looming over Mitch’s head a bit, though, but when he visibly perks up Auston’s heart clenches. He’s happy, of course, but almost jealous it wasn’t him to snap him out of it.

Why couldn’t it be him?

“Morning, Will. How ya doing, bud?”

“Great, actually.” The two of them trail off into a conversation about Will’s exciting morning, leaving Auston to berate himself. He wants so badly to be William at this moment. The jealousy he feels makes him want to vomit. He actually might be sick, because what the fuck. It’s his two best friends. It’s not like Mitch even likes him back, never mind loves him the way Auston does. He has no fucking right to be jealous, but he can’t help it. Mitch is his entire world, and he’d kill to just put a smile on his pretty face, and Will is able to do it in the first two seconds of them seeing each other. He doesn’t want anyone to make Mitch as happy as he does, and it's gross and disgusting and toxic but he can’t help it because it’s how he feels. He hates it, but it’s the truth.

Mitch notices his silence and when they sit down next to each other in their stalls, he tries to ask him what’s up by knocking their knees together. Auston just shakes his head and bites his tongue, swallowing down the three words he wants to say more than anything to save himself from the embarrassment and disappointment he knows he would feel for the rest of time if he was actually honest about this. It’s the one thing he knows he can’t share with Mitch, and it’s the one thing he wants to the most. Mitch just nods, pauses for a second, then starts without looking up at Auston right away.

“Will invited us over to his place for dinner tonight. Said his apartment’s been empty with Kap gone, and I haven’t been over there in a while…” The guilt that displays itself all over Mitch’s face is more than enough to have Auston nodding his head in agreement, even though he knows exactly what Will is planning to do as soon as he has the two of them in a room together with him and no fans or teammates or staff to see. He just does not have the energy for it today, but who could say no to Mitch. “Cool! Awesome, I’ll, uh, I’ll tell him we can go, then. What time do you want me to pick you up?”

It has to stop, Auston knows that. The two of them have been driving each other around since rookie year, and it’s probably part of what led to all of his messed up feelings. Spending so much time with each other, it’s bound to happen to at least one of them, and the one ended up being Auston. So it has to stop. “I can drive myself, you know.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as snide as it does, because when would he ever purposely try to hurt Mitch, but the second the words leave his mouth he regrets all of it.

“Oh,” Mitch nods, looking like someone just sucker-punched him in the gut. “Uhm, yeah, I know. I just thought that, since I usually pick you up to go to things, I would. But if you don’t want to, that's fine. Yeah.” He shoots his gaze to the floor, unsure of what to do now. He wasn’t expecting it to be that big of a deal, but now he feels like he’s suffocating.

Auston’s chest hurts so bad he could scream, and even though his heart is saying to lighten up and back off, when he opens his mouth, his tone stays the same as before. “I just think we should give each other some space sometimes. It’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” He spits the last word and actually cannot physically remove the disgust from his face. What the fuck is wrong with you?! Relax!

Mitch doesn’t look up right away, but nods and bites his lip. Auston gets up and starts putting his stuff from his bag into his cubby, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Mitch unsure of what to do with himself, playing with his watch absentmindedly while he chews the living hell out of the inside of his cheek. He continues to watch him while he gets up from his place and stands up next to Auston.

“What is up with you lately, man?” Mitch suddenly bursts, his voice raised a level louder than anyone else in the room. The entire team falls silent, and Auston knows for a fact that usually that would make Mitch calm down, chill out, because despite the fact that he has an A on his chest and has the centre of attention in most rooms he walks into, he still forgets what he wants to say as soon as he has the room’s attention. He continues right on, though, without a second thought about who’s listening. “You’re on and you’re off. You show up to my place all ‘I love you I care about you you don’t need her’ and now you’re snappy and rude. What the fuck have I done to you to hate me so fucking much that when I’m already down, you act like I’m fucking stupid and don’t notice you look miserable when you’re around me?!”

Auston turns towards Mitch, but when he sees the look on his face, any comeback that was on his lips dies right there. He’s seen that look on him, pointed towards the opposing player on a faceoff, or towards a ref after a stupid call against his team, and heartbreakingly towards himself in the mirror after a game he feels like he lost. Auston’s always been the one to wipe that look away, to tell him everythings going to be okay, to calm him down and remind him there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him. That look has never been pointed towards him. Never.

Will stands up then and starts towards Mitch, looking frantically back and forth between Mitch and Auston, looking for Auston to tell him what to do. Auston just stares at Mitch, tongue in cheek, so Will tries to butt in. “Hey, Mitch, I think we should chill out a bit, eh?” “Get the fuck away from me Will. I need to know what his fucking problem is.” Mitch shoves Will to the side, and even though he could’ve easily stood his ground, he backs away a step, not leaving his side completely. Will looks up at Auston, completely unsure of how he’s supposed to help in this situation. Auston thinks his lungs might have actually collapsed because he suddenly can't get a breath in. John makes his way over to the three of them from the other side of the locker room and puts his arms on Auston’s biceps, knowing his tells for when he needs right there, in his space, to calm him down before he implodes. He turns him away from Mitch and forces Auston to make eye contact with him, to look away from Mitch. “Shower, Aus?”

He doesn’t respond, but numbly follows his captain to the showers without looking back to see Will push Mitch into his seat and sit next to him with an arm around his shoulder, all the fight evidently escaping Mitch’s body. “Suit up and ice in two minutes, boys,” John announces to the team before leaving the room.

The door to the showers swings shut and John walks over to where Auston is leaning against a stall door. “What just happened?”

He didn’t even feel like crying two seconds ago, but with his captain so close to him, looking at him like he’s a wounded puppy, he can’t keep it together anymore. John stays right in front of him, doesn’t flinch when Auston’s shoulders start to shake and the tears start to stream down his face.

“I love him, John,” Auston admits, defeated. His shoulders slump and he doesn’t really look at John, instead staring at his hands, his slides, John’s shoulder. “I love him, and he doesn’t love me, he’ll never love me the way I love him, and I think I might die. I actually think it might kill me, how much I love him.” John just shakes his head, looking sadder than Auston has ever seen him, and pulls him into a tight hug. He holds him there for a couple seconds, until Auston grunts a little and steps back. “Yeah, I, uh, I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. Love isn’t even a big enough word to describe the feelings I have for him. But he, uh, he doesn’t love me, and I don’t really know how to get over it.”

“Oh, kid, you don’t.”

“What?” Auston was expecting some sort of advice, maybe an ‘I know’, not a fucking death sentence.

“You don’t just ‘get over it’, kid. It doesn’t work that way. I’m sure you’ve had girlfriends you’ve ‘loved’, and you ‘love’ your dog, and your team, but this is a totally different thing. I believe that once in your life, you meet someone who changes the way you see the world. They take everything you think you know, throw it in the garbage, and reteach it to you. They show you what true, unconditional, absolute love is. You feel like you can’t breathe when you’re without them, and you only feel truly complete when they’re next to you. You can’t imagine your life without them. That’s your soulmate, and if you don’t end up with them, you might ‘move on’, you might meet someone and get married and have kids and have your dream life, but you’ll never truly forget them. They’re your one big, true, epic love.”

“Is that you and Aryne?”

John nods, smiling a little, but remaining somber. “Yeah, it is.”

“Is that, uh, is that me and Mitch?” “I think so, buddy. And if he doesn’t feel the same, it’ll feel like it’ll kill you, but I promise you you’ll survive. It’ll be hell, but you will get through it, and you will be happy again. Maybe never as happy as you are when you’re around him, but close. And if he does feel the same, you’ll be happy as long as you’re with him. Even when the entire world feels like it’s crumbling down around you, he’ll be there, and it’ll make everything kind of okay.”

Auston is unsure how to respond, how to say something even close to as emotionally intelligent as John. “What should I do?” he asks.

“I can’t tell you that, bud. All I can tell you is he is your one true, epic love, and if you let him slip away before ever telling him how you feel, you will never, ever forgive yourself.”

Auston nods and leans in to briefly hug his captain, then shakes his entire body out, takes a breath, and goes to strap on his skates. Mitch is his soulmate. It’s something he’s always had an idea of, something he always thought might possibly be true, but to hear someone else say it out loud, to hear the actual words spoken by his captain of all people, it convinces whatever part of him was holding out on the thought.

Mitch is his soulmate.

He doesn’t know if Mitch feels the same. In fact, he’s almost sure he doesn’t. But if he doesn’t say anything, he’ll regret it for the rest of his life. He pauses where he is, bent over, tying his skate laces. He sits up with his hands on his knees and looks at John, who’s across the room, tying his own laces. “I have to go.”

“And do what?” John doesn’t look up, but Auston knows he has his full attention.

“I just have to do something. I have to tell him, I think, but it has to be perfect, because he’s perfect. I have to, uh, I have to go,” Auston trails off and starts taking off his skates at lightning speed. John look up at him briefly, a small smile on his face.

“Don’t worry about anything, Aus. I’ll take care of Keefe.” Auston nods without looking at his captain, his mind spinning, but completely and utterly focused on the one thing he knows is true.

Mitch is my soulmate. I am utterly in love with Mitch Marner.

And I’m gonna teach him what real love is.

#auston matthews/mitch marner #auston matthews #mitch marner #hockey #nhl #hockey fic #hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs #william nylander #john tavares #willykappymarnsmatts

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harringtonstudios · 4 years

Text

bail. (part II)

plot: the morning after. part 1!

A/N: SMUT!!!! i don’t think i’ve ever written a part two as fast, thank you all for your encouragement. hope u enjoy :)

taglist: @iamdorka @no-shxt-sherl @bakerkells @findingmyth @rosegoldrichie @mayaslifeinabox @itjustkindahappenedreally @hnbtx @backoftheroomandnotbelonging

Unlocking your hotel door for the first time this morning felt like a relief. Thanking the hotel manager, you shut the door, slumping against the back of it. Your phone was dead, you had the worst headache in the world, and things had gotten a little more complicated with Colson than you had ever wanted.

Crouching on the floor for a second, you let out a long breath. Thinking through all the things you had to do today before leaving Portland, you walked over to your unmade bed from the night before. Plugging in your phone, you moved aside the sheets, starfishing across the mattress.

In a few hours, you were supposed to be driving everyone to Washington. Your dad was expecting all four of you at his house by dinner and you knew that once your phone charged up, his texts would come flooding in.

You didn’t particularly want to address the whole situation with Colson. It was obvious last night that you weren’t the only one with some type of feelings, especially with the way his eyes had constantly tried to focus on your own. There was something there, and even though confronting it would be the mature thing to do, you kinda just wanted to curl up into a ball and push it all away.

Mentally, you composed a list of reasons why you couldn’t talk to Colson about your feelings.

He’s Rook’s best friend. Rookie basically idolizes him and you would just be getting in the way of their friendship.

You two were supposed to hate each other. That’s how it had been since the moment you met.

He was such a dickhead.

Granted, the last reason wasn’t great, but everything else made sense. Closing your eyes, you made a decision. Your weird crush on Colson needed to end, for both you and your brother’s sake.

Your phone dinged to life and started buzzing almost immediately. Reaching over, you saw your dad’s name flash. You picked up the phone call, smiling to get your tone of voice back to normal.

“Hey dad!” you cheerily greeted, wincing a little at how excited you sounded.

“Y/N, baby. Where are you guys? I’ve been trying to reach you all morning,” he responded, and you could hear the chaos behind him as he crashed around the kitchen.

“We’re just getting breakfast. Can’t drive on an empty stomach,” you lied, gritting your teeth as your voice cracked.

“Breakfast? Honey, it’s 2pm. You haven’t left yet? Is everything okay?” he rambled and you could hear the nervous tone laced in his words.

“Yeah, the guys just had a late night. You know them,” you muttered, brain racing at the fact that it was already mid-day.

“Well, drive fast sweetheart. We’re all waiting for you,” he stated before saying his goodbyes.

Hanging up, you swung your legs around, getting off the bed. Throwing all your belongings into the rolling suitcase you’d brought, you cleaned up. Grabbing the key from the table this time, you dragged your stuff out before walking down the hall to Rook’s room.

“ROOKIE!!! UP,” you shouted, banging on the door. You heard a crash in the room, and you hammered even more, trying to get his attention. The door cracked open, and Rook stood there, eye looking even worse than it had last night.

“Oh fuck,” you mumbled before pushing his door open. His room was decently clean and he was still in the same clothes as last night.

“Get changed, brush your teeth, I’ll pack your shit up,” you pointed towards the bathroom, eager to get this show on the road.

Within a few minutes, you had partially covered his black eye with a light layer of foundation. Throwing him your sunglasses, you handed him both your suitcases.

“Can you go wake up Slim? Make sure he has all his shit in order, then go put everything in the car,” you ordered as he groaned.

“Why can’t you deal with Slim?” he asked, shuffling out of the room.

“You deserve it for making me deal with this fuckery,” you responded, blowing a kiss before closing his hotel door behind you.

Running into the staircase, you walked up to the fifth floor. You were ready to take charge today, brushing away any sense of feelings that may have come out last night.

You had taken Colson’s key last night, just in case something had happened with your room. Keying in, he was still slumped on the bed. You spared him a single glance before getting to work. Shoving things into his backpack, you moved around the room, making sure you weren’t leaving anything out.

After fully packing, you turned towards the bed. Hands on your hips, you thought of the best way to wake him up. After a second, you leaned down a little, nudging his shoulder.

“Hey, get up,” you muttered, shoving him a little rougher. He stirred in his sleep, mumbling something as he moved his limbs around. You gave him a final hard push and he grabbed your arm.

“I’m fucking up,” he grumbled and you twisted your arm. He softened his grip, letting you pull away.

“Good. I put all your shit away, can you change? We needed to be on the road like an hour ago,” you explained, moving back towards the door.

He lazily got up, moving to the edge of the bed before murmuring, “Did you stay here the whole night?” His morning voice was in full effect, and you bit your lip, avoiding him.

“You’re just not gonna answer?” he asked again, and you sighed before saying, “No, I didn’t. Now, if you don’t mind I’m gonna go set up the car.”

Leaving the room, you stood outside the door. You couldn’t just ignore him the whole time, and if you were being honest, you’d rather answer his questions now than later in front of everyone. You hesitated and before you could change your mind, you opened the door again, walking back in.

Colson was standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but his boxers and a pair of socks. “Y/N, shit, fuck,” he shouted, reaching something to cover his body with.

Usually, he wouldn’t care, walking around half-naked was his thing. But this time, he was scrambling around trying to hide the evident hard-on he had.

You blushed, realizing that maybe you shouldn’t have just busted in.

“You needed something?” he questioned, pitch a little higher than before. He was holding his stupid, white shirt from last night over his dick and you let out a little laugh.

“Glad you find this funny,” he grumbled, throwing his shirt on the desk. You’d already seen his strained boxers, there was no point in covering anything. You closed the door, moving a little closer to him.

“Not funny,” you said, smiling as he furiously pulled out clothes from his backpack. His eyebrows were furrowing and you could see his frown line as he threw his wardrobe out. Shirts flew up, and within seconds, the room was just as messy as before.

“I just packed those, c’mon,” you scoffed, moving right into his space. Reaching for his backpack, you put your hands around his wrists, stopping his movement. He paused, and you waited for a second before making eye contact.

His pupils were dilated, eyes blacker than blue. It took your breath away, knowing that he wanted this more than you thought he did. His pulse was strong against your fingers, thudding in the silence.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered, breaking eye contact. He hung his head down and you bit your lip, all thoughts flying out of your mind at the sound of your name in his voice. Squeezing his wrists a little harder, you leaned in, kissing his forehead.

He lifted his head and you dropped his wrists, moving to be right in front of him. Cupping his face, you pulled him closer, pushing your lips together. He kissed right back, warm heat enveloping your mouth.

Immediately, he pushed you back a little, until your back was straight against the desk. Putting his arms on either side of your body, he moved closer until you could feel his body against yours. He was so warm, radiating heat and you let out a little moan as his dick brushed against your belly.

At the sound of you, he kissed you even harder. You bit at his lip, trying to get a reaction out of him. Moving your arms to lace them behind his shoulders, you scratched at the base of his neck. At the feeling of your nails on his skin, he cursed, breaking the kiss apart to take a breath.

He was panting and you could feel his dick twitch slightly.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

He looked back at you, smirking before getting back to your lips. This time, you opened your mouth wider, letting his tongue slip in.

One of his hands came down, landing at your hip. Gripping it tightly, he grinded his hips, letting you feel every inch of his dick.

“Yeah? You want this,” he muttered, voice low and husky. Your eyes fluttered and then, you were pushing him back. He stood there, and you looked at his body, chest rising and falling as he moved his hair out of his face.

“Fuck it,” you whispered, mostly to yourself before pulling on his hand.

“You have ten minutes. Make me come,” you shot at him, moving to the bed. He looked up at you, eyes wide before regaining his composure.

“Is that a challenge?” he whispered, hands already under your shirt, reaching to pull it off. You nodded and then he was taking off your t-shirt, slightly pushing you down on the bed.

Hovering on top, he kissed your neck, one of his hands dipping behind you. Skilled fingers unclasped your bra and he moved it off before looking up at you.

“Challenge accepted,” he rumbled out and you could feel how wet you were, just at his words.

Moving down your body, his tongue lapped over your nipples twice, warming them before he bit down on one of them. Pulling one nipple between his teeth, you let out a moan, hands going down to his unruly hair. He moved to the other one, biting down again before leaning up to blow cold air on it. The sensation was so different and you arched a little.

“Y/N,” he mumbled and you felt heat start to build at his use of your name. He kissed right between your chest, before putting your nipple in his mouth again.

Sucking it slowly, he used his hand to play with the other one, pinching the nub in between his fingers. Rolling it slightly, he bit the other one a little and the pleasure started pooling.

Looking down at him, you pushed his hair up, trying to catch his eye. Realizing what you wanted, he looked up at you, tongue swirling around your nipple. His eyes met yours and you felt your mouth fall open. He waited a second before moaning with you still in his mouth, and you suddenly felt yourself fall right off the edge.

Moaning out loud, you felt your core pulse as he continued to play with you. You tugged at his hair, pulling him up so that you could kiss him, panting into his mouth.

No one had ever made you feel like that just with their mouth and you were a little surprised, not sure if it was Colson or the unresolved sexual tension both of you had.

Moving back a little, he looked down at you, arms on either side of your head. Smiling he whispered, “I win.”

You laughed at his cockiness, pushing him to fall on the bed. Grabbing your bra, you clasped it back on, feeling the tenderness of your chest. Pulling your shirt on, you patted at the warmth on your face, willing it to go away. You knew that all day, you would feel Colson’s fucking mouth sucking and biting at your boobs.

Looking down at him, you smiled. He was flushed, arms tucked under his head. Casually looking at his boxers, you saw that his hard-on was gone, a stain blooming against the material.

“Did I do that?” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him once, chaste.

“Mmhm,” he responded, letting his forehead touch yours.

“I win,” you shouted, sitting back up, throwing your arms in the air as a victory.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” he scolded, smiling as he looked up at you. There was no hint of anger in his voice and you felt yourself smile back, knowing that the meaning behind his insults had changed.

Your phone went off and you slowly got off the bed before seeing your dad’s caller ID flash on the screen.

“Shit, Colson change!” you yelled, scrambling to pick up the phone.

“Yeah, Dad. We’re on the road, just a few hours away,” you lied, trying to stop a laugh as Colson started shoving things back in his backpack.

Maybe you had ruined everything by letting your desire take over, but at this moment all you could see was the red of Colson’s cheeks and his smile as he looked over at you, flashing a thumbs up as he zipped his bag close and things just felt good.

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Disappear Here - 1/4

A/N: So, I’ve decided to turn this into a little series because I have no sense of brevity, and why not? So here’s part 1, which I hope you enjoy! As always, feedback is welcome! xx

Based on this blurb

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: language

MASTERLIST

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

ALTERNATIVE ENDING

SEQUEL

»»————-　♡　————-««

One Year Ago

You felt your eyes growing heavy as you tried to follow along to the late night rerun of a telenovela that was currently playing on one of the local channels. It was the only thing that was illuminating the small living room, everything else was bathed in darkness, much like your heart at the moment. You’d been sitting there for some time, ever since you’d gotten home from the embassy, in a vain attempt to keep your mind occupied. If you tried to focus all your energy into trying to keep up with the rapid Spanish, maybe no dark thoughts would impede the light buzz that was flowing through your veins .

The empty wine bottle on the coffee table was supposed to help aid in your plan to chase away all the negative thoughts there were creeping in at the idea of Javier still being gone. He was supposed to be back today, supposed to be back in the office along with Steve, but neither of them had returned. It had been nothing but radio silence from their end.

Instead, you’d spent the day performing all sorts of menial tasks around the office, waiting for either of your partners to bursting in through the door and announcing their triumphant return.

But it never came.

Instead you were only met with silence, the only sounds that met your ears were those of people passing by in the hallway and someone occasionally popping their head in to say hello. Your face lit up every time, thinking maybe you’d get a glimpse of Peña’s smirk or Murphy’s soft smile; instead it was just another coworker whose name you didn’t know, or care to know.

By midday, you’d gotten the entire shared office space clean and organized, going so far as to even clean the dingy windows, and caught up on paperwork that you’d been avoiding for weeks.

But even after all that, you still had time to spare.

When you couldn’t take the deafening silence any longer, you stormed out of the much too quiet office and stormed into Ambassador’s Noonan’s office, not even bothering to knock, only throwing the door open as you walked to the front of her desk. She barely lifted her eyes from the papers splayed across her desk as you stood in front her, your arms crossed definitely over your chest.

“Agent L/N,” it was almost mocking, cold, and you could see she really wasn’t too keen on listening to any problem that you were about to present her with. There were days when you hated her, wishing you could jump over the desk dividing you and wringing sense into her; other days you were glad that she was around, knowing that no matter how harsh and stern she was, she had your backs...more or less.

“Murphy and Peña aren’t back yet,” you didn’t bother to waste time with formalities, deciding to lay the facts on her instead, “they were supposed to be back in the office today. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of them.”

“I’m well aware that they were supposed to be back,” she flicked her eyes up to meet yours for a moment before turning back to her papers, “and just what is the issue?”

“They’re missing!”

“No one is considered missing for at least forty-eight hours,” she explained as you openly groaned. You knew that. But they weren’t just any sort of civilians, they were DEA agents, and more importantly, your partners, your friends, “and they technically still have several hours left in the work day to return before the clock starts ticking.”

“You don’t understand -”

“No, you don’t understand, L/N,” she barked and slammed the papers down on her desk, causing you to jump back in surprise, “this is how things work sometimes. This is a dangerous field, there are risks involved and sometimes you just have to accept that. You have to be all in to do this job, and I expect that even a rookie such as yourself understands that.”

“I-...”

“I get you want to do the right thing and you’re concerned with the welfare of your partners, but you have to learn to get over these types of things,” you were rendered speechless, taking a step back at her harsh words. You knew this was a dangerous job, that going after Escobar was an almost certain deathwish, but you had still agreed to do it, and you still wanted to hold onto some sense of humanity, not just be a cold shell that went through the motions every day. Maybe that was the rookie part of you after all, “perhaps you’d do well to remember that Murphy and Peña are just your partners. Especially Peña; I am not immune to the rumors and follies that float around in this office. And if you can’t remember that, maybe you’d best start looking for another job.”

“With all due respect, Ambassador-”

“This conversation is over,” she didn’t bother to spare a final glance before gathering her papers back together, “come back and see me in a few days if they still aren’t back, and then we’ll take the next steps. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you struggled to hold back your tears, feeling them prick at the back of your eyes as you rushed out of her office. You knew she was right, at least to a certain extent, but it didn’t make your current predicament any easier.

At this point you were sure that you couldn’t handle staying in the office any longer, so you grabbed your stuff and headed home, stopping by a corner market to pick up cheap wine to keep you company for the evening. It was better than being stuck all alone with only your thoughts after all; having flashes of Pena and Murphy somehow getting killed was starting to drive you crazy.

But despite your best efforts, nothing held your attention for long, which was precisely why you had resorted to watching programs in Spanish, trying your best to follow along with what they were saying. Spanish wasn’t your strong suit, you’d grasped the basics and then some, all the slang and curses of course (the latter part mostly thanks to Javier), and could hold a conversation well enough, but it was nothing compared to Javier’s natural fluency. Even if you looked like you might somehow actually belong in Columbia, your accent and lack of comprehension gave you away every time, as you stared at the person with your big wide doe eyes (that little comment was courtesy of Murphy). Javier enjoyed teasing you about it every time. You didn’t mind.

You sighed to yourself as you realized that you might never see him again. Your last interaction with him had hardly been a proper goodbye

“I can’t believe you told that witch to keep me away from this,” you glared at Javier as he started to gather supplies, Murphy closely following behind him. When he didn’t respond, you just shoved his chest, which quickly got his attention. He easily captured your wrists in his large hands and gave you a stern look, “you’re an asshole, Javi. Even Carrillo thinks I can handle myself just find out in the field.”

“I don’t give a shit what Carrillo thinks,” his voice was low, signaling the end of conversation as he released you from his strong grip. You looked over at Murphy, who was busy intently pretending not to be listening to your exchange. He was going to be of no help to you.

“Well I do,” you were just trying to get a rouse out of him; if he wasn’t going to let you come, you might as well annoy him, “Carrillo is a better everything than you could ever wish to be.”

“You think so, huh?” you’d gotten under skin, you could immediately tell by the way the muscles in his shoulders tensed, and the almost growl he adopted. You put your hands on your hips, eyebrow raised as you just nodded at him, “listen here, kid. This is dangerous. You think you know what to expect out there, you think you know what’s it like out there? You haven’t even seen a dead body, have you? You really think you could go out there and handle that?”

“This is my job-”

“You’re still green,” he insisted, “and this is not the time or place for you to suddenly decide to be the hero. I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you insisted, the way his voice had softened with his last words not lost on you, “I can handle myself.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he sighed heavily as he exchanged a look with Murphy, “you’re staying here and that is final. And if I hear even the slightest hint of you trying to weasel your way in from anyone else, I’ll have your ass on the first flight back to the States.”

“I’m insufferable?” you threw up your hands in exasperation at him. He was so thick skulled and stubborn sometimes, it drove you up the wall, “what about you, old man? Scared of what will happen if I get there and make you look bad?”

“I have it had it up to here-”

“Will the two of you just shut up already?” Murphy had finally had enough of the two bickering back and forth. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence by any means, no, the two of you were constantly up in arms. Sometimes it was over the who made the better shitty office coffee, his incessant chain smoking, your habit of wearing high heels, his use of informants. Everything. But the two of you were starting to get on his last nerve, which said enough considering that Murphy was a patient man.

“Steve-”

“Just stop arguing and fuck already,” he said and you immediately felt all the blood in your body flow to your face, sure you were just as flushed as you as deep red tomato. You didn’t dare look at Javier for fear of the expression on his face, “or do whatever you need to in order to stop getting at each other’s throats all the time. You’re worse than children.”

“Well, you’re both the worst,” it was the only thing retort you could come with after his little outburst. You kept your back turned to Javier as you stormed out of the storage locks without another word, “have fun or whatever. Don’t get shot, I guess.”

You cringed slightly at the memory, wishing it had gone slightly smoother than that. You seriously hoped that wasn’t the last interaction you’d have with either of them, especially Javier. You didn’t know what you would do if that was the last time you’d gotten to see him.

But you pushed the memories to the back of your mind as you felt the sweet lull of slumber finally start to win over, a loud, booming knock came at your door causing you to jump and almost fall off of the couch. You sighed heavily before collecting yourself and pausing to glance at the clock on the wall. It was nearing two in the morning - no one in their right mind should have been at your door. Your first thought was that it was someone coming after you, someone that had decided they had a vendetta against you, coming to make you pay for your sins.

Instinctively, you moved to the kitchen and grabbed your gun, holding it in front of you as you headed towards the door, alarmed by another loud knock. Putting your hand on the knob, you swallowed the lump that had worked its way into your throat. You were suddenly wide awake as the adrenaline rushed through your veins. After mentally counting to five, you yanked the door open, gun cocked and aimed at whoever had decided to come after you, ready to pull the trigger and stand your ground. Maybe you were green, but you were confident in the fact that you could hold your own if you suddenly had to.

Instead of an enemy, you found yourself face to face with none other than Javier Peña.

“Javi,” his nickname rolled off your lips in a quiet whisper as you met his warm brown eyes, your own already stinging and on the verge of spilling over with tears. You felt like you could breathe again, waves of relief crashing down on you as you realized he was alive. But at a price. He looked tired, very tired, and worn out, his hair a mess and his clothes looking in need of a wash, much like the rest of his sweaty body. But he was alive, and that was the operative fact, and the only fact you cared about in that moment.

“Were you going to shoot me, kid?” he asked, his deep velvety voice reached your ears and causing your stomach to flutter slightly. He looked between you and your still outstretched hand before grabbing the gun, removing the cartridge of bullets, and tossing it to the side where it clanged to the ground with a loud metallic clang. He studied you silently, almost in a challenging way, trying to see which one of you would break down first. He was the one that had showed up on your doorstep after all.

But it wasn’t going to be you because you weren’t able to find any words. Instead you were frozen in time, your body humming with content as you realized that all of your worry had been for nothing. He was okay, he was alive, and he was currently mere inches away from you; you could feel his body heat radiating onto yours, his natural musk invading every bit of your senses.

You had missed him more than you thought, for reasons that were known to you, but you would never speak out loud. You didn’t want to hear the words ever come out of your mouth because that would mean that they were true, that your feelings for Javi were more than just those of friends and partners. That your feelings were those that made it seem like he was the reason for all the glittering stars in the night sky, that he was your morning sunshine after a dark night of rain.

But Javier didn’t need you to say anything.

It all happened fast; so fast that you didn’t even have a chance to process what was going on before he put his hands on either side of your face and crashing his lips onto yours. It was needy, fast, bruising, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for. After reality hit you like a train, you responded by throwing your arms around his neck, carding a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck as his rough hands found your waist, his fingers quickly finding their way under the hem of your shirt and brushing along the soft skin.

It was hard and fast, the two of you expressing your desires without the use of words, only pulling apart when you needed a breath of air. You looked up at him and found him staring back at you, his eyes expressing an emotion you couldn’t quite place. It was intense, frightening, and most of all hungry. He was the hunter and you were his prey.

“Y/N,” Javi’s voice was barely above a whisper as he kissed you a few more times, eventually finding your jaw and working his way down your neck. It took everything in your power not to moan out loud at his touch, at the feel of his lips on your delicate flesh, and you bit your lip as you kept your arms around his neck. But before you could let it go any further, something snapped inside you and you came to your senses and put your hands on his chest, a silent plea for him to stop. As much as you wanted him to continue, to somehow have it end up in your bedroom, with you under him as he gave you what you had been desperately wanting, you knew you shouldn’t. He was your partner, your friend, and on top of all of that, he was older and he had a reputation.

It was a reputation he had earned for a reason, and that was enough for you to stop whatever might transpire before it got any further.

“Javi,” you said as he pulled back from you, looking at you with concern written all over his face. You shook your head and took a step back from him, already saddened by the loss of his body against yours, “we...we shouldn’t do this. We can’t do this.”

You pointed between your bodies, biting your lip in a way that drove him crazy, not that he would ever admit that, and sighed. Sometimes your rationalism got the best of you, and you wished you could just throw it out the window. How you wished you could just have him then and there, to feel him all over your body.

“Why?” he asked quietly as he put a hand on your cheek before ghosting his fingers over the contours of your face, and he wondered, momentarily, why he’d waited so long to touch your soft skin. Part if you wished you had let him continue, but the rational part of your brain told you that you’d done the right thing, “I thought...we...that there was something there? Between us.”

“We can’t,” you just repeated softly, “we’re friends...partners...this can only end in two ways, and neither of them are good.”

“Give me a good reason. Just one good reason,” he insisted and you knew he had a valid point, but you also both knew what you were trying to say, “tell me you don’t want this. Tell me I’ve been wrong in thinking that there was something between us this whole time. Tell me I’m wrong. And if you don’t want this, it stops here and I’ll walk away.

You looked at him silently for a few moments, his eyes pleading with yours, rendering you unable to form a coherent thought; you wanted to tell him that he was right, but all you could see was looming heartbreak on the horizon, and you weren’t about to willingly put yourself through torture for nothing. Not with him or anyone else.

Every other relationship you had had blown up into a million pieces in front of your very eyes. You weren’t able to subject yourself to that again, no matter how much you longed for him, no matter how many nights you spent alone in bed, thinking of him, wishing he was there with you. You finally, painstakingly, met his eyes, giving him a small grimace before shrugging your shoulders, “I...I don’t want this.”

A lie. A bold lie you both could easily see through.

“Okay,” he took a step back, shaking his head at you as he tried to keep himself in check. He wanted to yell, to scream, to cry, something - anything. But instead, he moved silently towards the door, stepping through it without so much as another look at you, slamming it shut behind him. You winced slightly at the loud sound before slumping back down onto the couch. You gave the wine bottle a pathetic look, wishing you had more so you could block the events that had just transpired.

Either you had just made the wisest decision of all, or you had possibly made the biggest mistake.

It was a fine line between the two.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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sadaboutniall · 4 years

Text

hi! I word vomited 3k of pwp niall x reader (cis-female presenting, female pronouns, ‘female’ anatomy). enjoy 🤪

content warning for, uh, just straight up sex. 18+ only please.

hush, I know they said the end is near;

The plan was to get work done tonight. You’d promised yourself.

But how are you supposed to get anything done, really, when he’s like this: sprawled out across your bed, holding a book over his face with one hand, fiddling with his own bleached hair with the other. It’s starting to grow out now, the blonde—he said he’s getting too old for it, that he has to grow up sometime, that, by the time you guys graduate he shouldn’t look like he’s clinging onto his sixteen year old self—and it tugs at your stomach to think about it all disappearing one day.

When you first fell in love with Niall he was a shock of blonde hair, a bundle of excited energy, rosy red cheeks, a smile that stopped you in your tracks. You’d been at some stupid football party, dragged along by your freshman year roommate who had a crush on the goalie. Neither of you imagined you’d be going home with the rookie midfielder that night.

But here you are, four years later, and he’s fully yours—and you’re still just as distracted by him as you were that night. You love him so much it hurts, sometimes: a weird, stabbing sadness that overwhelms you when you’re so happy you could burst. He makes you so happy that you mourn. You can’t believe there was a time before him. You can’t imagine a time after him.

‘You’re starin’ again,’ Niall looks over the cover of his book, blue eyes smiling. It’s late, and you can tell he’s tired, but he always has time for you. ‘Everything alright?’

‘Yeah, sorry,’ you tell him, resisting the urge to get up off your desk chair, to crawl into bed and curl up next to him. ‘Was just thinking.’

‘What about?’ He puts the book down now, sits up. ‘That’s not your happy thinking face.’

‘Just, like,’ you drop your head back, eyes trained on the ceiling now. ‘Graduating, stuff like that.’

‘We’ve still got six months, petal,’ he tells you. ‘Don’t need to worry about that right now.’

‘I know, I just,’ you don’t know how to explain it, the feeling in your chest when you imagine what comes after. ‘I don’t want to lose you.’

‘Huh?’

‘Like, when we graduate.’

‘Who said you’re losin’ me? I’m not going anywhere, and, unless you haven’t told me yet, you’re not either.’ He sounds confused, a little worry creeping into his voice.

‘No,’ you look at him now, his furrowed brow, his messed up hair. Your heart could burst. Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. ‘Just, this. Losing this. Growing up.’

‘Oh, lover,’ Niall softens all at once, an exhale that you feel in your own chest, too. ‘Come here, yeah? No one’s losing anything.’

And you do, of course. You forget about your work, because fuck the thesis, it can wait, and you cross the room, and you go to him. You go home.

‘I love you,’ you tell him, crawling up the bed and curling into him. He wraps you up in his arms easy, and you bury your face in his neck. ‘Sorry for being weird.’

‘Nothing to be sorry for,’ Niall rubs your back, gentle. ‘It’s mad, graduating and shit. But we’re gonna be okay. We’ve got each other and whatever else comes… we can handle it.’

You pick your head up, maneuvering a little so you can be face to face with him, so you can tangle your hands up in his darkening hair, can press your lips to the stubble growing on his chin. You’re safe here. Niall exhales, hands coming down to rest on your waist. ‘I love you,’ you tell him again, another kiss to his chin, then one to each corner of his lips. ‘I love you so much.’

‘I love you too, petal,’ he promises, your lips hovering over his. They’re parted just so slightly, his chest rising and falling as his breath speeds up. ‘No matter what, yeah? Always.’

‘Always,’ you promise too, your stomach stirring. You love him so much you could devour him.

When you kiss him he exhales, a little whine in the back of his throat. It’s mad, how quickly you do this to each other, how the energy is always there, under the surface, how you’re always on the same wavelength about it. He slides his hands up under your jumper and you tug on the bottom of his hoodie, already desperate to get it off. You need his skin on yours more than you think you’ve ever needed anything. You might cry, you think, if you don’t get it immediately.

Out of breath, Niall pulls back from the kiss and tugs his hoodie up over his head. His hair is a wreck, his cheeks bright red, a light smattering of chest hair under his collarbones. You see him like this every single day, and he still takes your breath away.

‘Still starin’,’ a smug smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

‘You’re so fucking fit,’ you tell him honestly. He knows you think it, anyway.

‘Honestly,’ he laughs, moving his hands up, up, up, under your sweater, ‘you should be most worried about how unfit I’ll be when I’m not playing football every day.’ Through the thin fabric of your lounge bra, he brushes a thumb over your nipples. ‘You might not want me anymore.’

You hiss as he does it again, this time pushing the fabric down just enough that he brushes the skin. Your body jerks closer to him without your control, and you lean forward to kiss the smug look off his face.

‘Impossible,’ you tell him, as he pulls his hands away, quick, to get your jumper off. He tosses it to the end of the bed, then leans back on his hands to look at you.

With anyone else, you’d feel exposed like this: straddling Niall in your bra and leggings, him leaning back to get a good look at your body. Your chest is heaving but his is too, a flush working its way down toward his nipples, and you don’t feel exposed. You feel like art. You feel good.

‘Fucking stunning,’ he says, running a hand over the back of his neck. ‘You’re unbelievable.’

‘Shut up and do something about it,’ you tell him, because you feel electric and you don’t want to stay still, not like this. ‘Or I’ll take care of it myself.’

‘Ah,’ Niall shakes his head, blue eyes darkening. ‘We can’t be having that. Lay down, yeah? I’ll take care of ya.’

You scramble off him and do exactly that, settling down on your bed and looking back up just in time to watch him strip down to his boxer briefs, to watch how his muscles flex as he crawls up the bed, straddles your thighs. You reach up to touch and he lets you, one hand wrapping around the thick of his thigh, the other gently playing with the waistband of his underwear. You ignore where he’s hard, watching his heaving chest, watching the way he watches you.

‘So pretty,’ he tells you, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. He trails kisses down, over your jaw and your neck, sliding his hands up to your breasts as he does. Easy, he shimmies the straps of your bra down over each shoulder as he sucks a hickey into your neck, then pulls it down the rest of the way, until he can twist it around to get it unclasped. He sits up just long enough to get rid of it, leaving you cold and exposed, feeling unfathomably lonely until his body is on top of yours again. You whine, just a little.

‘Needy,’ he smirks, lips against your breastbone, hands on the waistband of your leggings. ‘You need me, petal?’

When you don’t answer right away he slides his hand down a little more, resting between your legs, over your leggings. Two fingers press against you, and, this time, you whine even louder. ‘I said,’ he applies more pressure, voice stern. ‘Do you need me, petal?’

‘Yes, yeah,’ you gasp, hips bucking up into his hands. ‘Please.’

‘Where?’

‘Please,’ you close your eyes, feeling electric. ‘There.’

‘Here?’ Niall asks, a little more pressure now. ‘Just like this? This is what you need?’

‘No, no—’ you turn your head to press your cheeks into the pillow. You’re burning up, soaking through your leggings.

‘No?’ Niall pulls his fingers away, and even with your eyes closed you can hear the smile in his voice. ‘Petal, you just said—’

‘Underneath, please,’ you know the game he’s playing, what he wants to hear, but it doesn’t make it any easier. ‘Please, take them off.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Niall taps his fingers against you again, then moves up to touch under your chin, tilt your head back to face him. ‘Open your eyes, lover. Good girl.’ His fingers push gently against your lips, and you already know, before he says anything. ‘Suck.’

Eyes locked on his, you part your lips just enough for him to press three fingers in, and do as he says. His fingers are thick and they make your mouth water even more, make you whine around him, imagining where they’ll be next.

He takes his time, you know he likes the view.

‘That’s good,’ he pulls his fingers away abruptly. ‘Good girl. You still want me?’

You nod, eager, and Niall leans down for one more gentle, loving kiss. He’s so good at this: switching back and forth between bossy and soft, always reminding you how much he loves you, how this game can end as soon as you say so. It makes your chest swell, but you don’t want it to end.

He pulls back, mouth still hovering over yours. ‘Take your leggings off,’ he says, lips brushing yours as he speaks. Then, he sits back, and watches.

You do it quick, shimmying the leggings off and shoving them over the side of the bed. You go to pull your underwear down but he stops you with a hand on your hip, a gentle squeeze.

‘That’s enough,’ he tells you, gently pressing his fingers to you, over your underwear. It’s a mess: his wet fingers, your underwear soaked through, and you used to find this embarrassing, the way you’d be so wet that he could feel it through the cotton. But you’re not embarrassed around Niall anymore.

‘So pretty,’ he says, rubbing gentle circles into the seat of your underwear. You’re whimpering underneath him, and he’s flushing up, too. ‘All this for me?’

‘Yeah,’ you nod quickly. ‘Always for you.’

‘That’s a good girl,’ he says again, pulling his fingers away. You whine loudly but he’s way ahead of you, his lips against the cotton of your underwear before you can even finish complaining. You gasp, hips buckling, hands coming up to tangle in his hair, and he goes for it, mouthing against you, one hand holding your thighs open, the other teasing at the waistband of your knickers. It’s absurd, the way he’s doing this through cotton and you’re still losing your mind, grasping at the bedsheets with your free hand, whimpering so loudly that you worry about your roommates downstairs in the kitchen.

He’s masterful, the way his fingers work their way underneath to touch your skin, the way he slips one inside as he continues to work his lips over the cotton. You’re practically crying with it by the time he gets your underwear off all the way, tangled up in your ankles as he dives back in, mouth on you, finally, finally, finally.

‘Niall,’ you tug at his hair, tossing aside the thought that one day in the not so distant future it’ll be completely brunette hair in your hands, all the blonde forever gone. ‘Please.’

He hums against you and you really could cry now, so overwhelmed with how good you feel, how close to it you feel. He’s staring at you, blue eyes on yours, which you can barely keep open. You can feel it when he smirks, the same time as he winks, and gets properly to work.

It doesn’t take long at all, once he’s got his mind set on it. Fingers alongside his tongue he’s got it down to a science, almost, giving and taking, sucking and kissing, soaking wet and so, so, so, overwhelming. You shut your eyes but the image doesn’t go away: his face between your legs, your thighs up on his broad shoulders. You can feel his muscles flexing and working and it’s enough, for some reason the thought of his back, strong and smooth and all for you, is enough, to send you gasping, crying, flailing over the edge.

He takes you through it gently, so that when you calm down and open your eyes he’s kissing between your legs so, so lovingly, big hands gentle on the insides of your thighs. You release your tight grip in his hair and exhale shakily, a whimper falling from your lips as you do.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he says, pressing one last kiss to your clit before he crawls back up your body. You can taste yourself when he kisses you on the lips, can feel the way his stubble is soaking with the mess you made. ‘I love you so much.’

‘I love you too,’ you tell him, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Love doesn’t feel big enough.

You make out gently for a while, his fingers gentle between your legs to keep you wet and open. You can feel where he’s hard against your thigh and it drives you to madness, the thought of what comes next.

‘Are you going to fuck me?’ You ask finally, lips still pressed to his.

‘That what you want?’ He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it.

‘Please,’ you tell him, swallowing a gasp as he brushes your clit. ‘Please.’

‘Anything,’ he tells you, one more kiss to your lips. ‘Hands and knees for me, petal?’

You nod quickly, done stalling, and quickly scramble over for him. Behind you, you hear the drawer open and shut quickly, and the sounds of a condom. When you look over your shoulder he’s naked and pumping himself, cock so hard you feel a lump in your throat. He’s fucking stunning.

‘Look at you,’ he says softly, gasping in a deep breath as he slides the condom onto himself. ‘Wish you could see my view.’

He shuffles up the bed and comes to a rest behind you, one hand on your ass, the other on the bend of your hip, his fingers over the curve of your tummy. He’s so hard against you it’s fucking torture, impossible to imagine how he’s holding out. He moves his hand down from your hip to brush against your clit again and you drop your head, a long, desperate whine coming from deep inside of you as he finally, finally, lets himself in.

‘Fuck,’ his voice shakes when he’s fully seated, hips to your ass, fingers still pressed against you. ‘Fuck, you feel so good, lover.’

You can’t speak. You know it’ll just be an incoherent sound if you try. It feels like he’s everywhere: inside of you, on top of you, underneath you, on every side of you. It’s overwhelming and so, so good—you never want to stop feeling this, never want to stop being so close to him that you are literally one.

He’s gentle at first, soft thrusts of his hips, one hand moving up to grasp at your breast as he finds a good pace. It doesn’t take long for him to find his rhythm, to hit the spot inside of you that makes you scream, chin pressed against your collarbone as you try not to come on the spot. He picks it up then, hips bruising your ass as he thrusts, his skin burning hot against yours.

‘Again,’ you tell him, every time he hits that spot inside of you. ‘Again, again, oh my God, please, again.’

And he does as you ask, always. Over and over and over and over. He’s never been loud but you know his tells, can hear the way he sucks in deep, shaking breaths, can hear the way his accent thickens when he tells you he loves you, can hear the curses that fall from somewhere deep inside him, the ‘fucking hell, petal, fucking hell,’ that he can’t keep in.

He wants you to come first, always. It’s selfless and selfish: he wants to be sure you come, but he wants to be able to collapse once he’s done, fall asleep satisfied and heavy to the bone. He’s a master at it by now, knowing just how to touch, how to move, to finish you off. When he knows you’re close he hauls you up, your back pressed to his chest, and goes harder, his lips against your shoulder, then your neck, then your ear, just for you as he says, ‘come on, lover. Come for me.’

You do, of course. He pinches a nipple and hits just the right spot inside of you and you toss your head back onto his shoulder and you come for the second time, your body vibrating with it. You see stars as you do and you don’t stop, gasping, crying out, feeling like you’re on another planet entirely as he finishes himself off inside of you, just a few quick thrusts before he’s grunting, telling you he loves you, and letting go.

You stay like that for a moment, both still up on your knees, before Niall pulls out with a hiss and gently lowers you onto the bed. He’s a fucking sight like this: cheeks burning red, chest flushed, hair a mess, sweat all over. The shadow of his abs catches your eye as he reaches over to toss the condom into the bin and you trace them with your thumbs, hands wrapping around his waist. You can’t believe he’s yours.

‘You should go pee,’ he tells you, un-sexily, but so him. ‘Don’t want ya to get a UTI.’

‘You always have to ruin the mood with that,’ you laugh, stretching out on the bed. You don’t mean it: it’s actually very sexy how much he cares for your health. What’s not sexy is getting out of bed to go pee post-orgasm.

‘Just don’t want to see you sick,’ he says. He gently touches between your legs, eyes flickering as you whimper. ‘How about a shower together?’

‘Yeah?’ You ask, already warming up at the idea.

‘Yeah,’ he smiles, leans down for a kiss. ‘Why not?’

####

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fic #niall horan fan fiction #1dff #niall horan x reader #niall horan x you #nhff #one direction #one direction fan fiction

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leggomylino · 4 years

Text

Braked, Trifled | Han Jisung

Genre: slice of life, college au

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader

Word count: ~1.5k

A/n: Masterlist in bio~ | Based on true events ♫

- ♫ - ♫ - ♫ -

[12:11 오전]

The inertia that pushes your car forward makes your head spin. Like being on a roller coaster that stops all too quickly.

“What was that?” Your friend asks, turning around. “Did you just hit the brakes hard?”

Your eyes travel up to peer through the rear view mirror. “No…” you speculate, watching as the shadow of a tall, 20-something year old boy steps out onto the curbside. Your vision narrows. “Some punk just hit me.”

It was just after midnight. Your friend Daewon’s birthday was today, and to surprise him you and your other friend Junyong made plans the previous afternoon to throw him an all-day surprise party, along with the rest of their rookie college music group, Noir. Your town’s local Dunkin’ Donuts was just a hop, skip, and a jump down the road from campus, and being a Tuesday night with a new semester just around the corner, you weren’t expecting anyone to be out, especially at this hour. Even so, there were plenty of better places to go for partying than...a local 24/7 donut shop.

Which is why you were baffled to find the rival enemy, Han Jisung of the infamous 3Racha and Co., quarreling before your newly-imprinted bumper.

"Han I told you for the last time that's the accelerator! Dang it, I should have listened to Chan and not let you drive—“

"How are we gonna tell this to Minho…it's his car..."

Han waves his hands peacefully before the crowd. “Okay, okay,” he states, looking back at the imprinted [car model]. “Everything’s fine, it was just accident so— sh*T WAIT I USED CHAN’S LICENSE!” He suddenly huffs, making an elaborate 180 in behavior to stamp his foot like an immature child. “You're the one that wanted donuts at 12 am!!!” He accuses, pointing to an orangish-blonde boy. Definitely a part of the squad, but not one of the 3Racha fiends.

Freckles huffs back. “Well EXCUSE ME FOR WANTING TO CELEBRATE NATIONAL DONUT DAY!!!”

"THAT'S NOT EVEN A REAL THING!” The one from the passenger’s side erupts; another groupie. “BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!!!"

“Aaaah,” Han groans, palm on his forehead. “Okay, Seungmin’s right, we need to calm down. Like I said, everything is fi—“

“It’s not fine,” you cut in, glaring. Han jumps, seeing as you appeared to be a ghost behind the glow of taillights. “I’m pulling up over there.”

You point a couple parking spaces to the left of the drive-thru, and he nods, swallowing. A nervous glint about him. Ignoring your late-night drinks and dozen Boston Cremes, you pull up to the designated area, sighing as your head hits the steering wheel. Junyong pats your shoulder solemnly. “It’s okay. We’ll get through this. It’s just a fender-bender, so you don’t have to tell the insurance company— I’m sure he’ll agree,” he added, nodding behind him. He turned his head to glare out the back window. “...But seriously, who hits a car in a drive-thru? You’re supposed to inch forward, not ZOOM like Speedy Gonzales...”

Wasn’t that the truth... Shrugging, you open the door, preparing to rendezvous with the enemy. In all truth, in all honesty, you were annoyed at the notion; but the fact that it was Han Jisung, well, that made you livid.

He was, after all, the boy that had instigated war between the two groups; by stealing Seunghoon’s file, and writing his group’s name on it as the demo for their music final. He stole Noir’s song, and made it their own. And nobody stopped him.

“I’m so, so sorry…” he starts, walking up with your order. “Here’s your stuff…”

You take it from him stiffly, passing it to Junyong, who came running up beside you. Sensing the awkward tension, he dips back to the safety of the dented vehicle without a word, gulping his Matcha Latte down.

“Gimme your info,” you demand, wanting to keep this short. Han begins to sweat.

“Uuuh…” he nods, slowly, and juts a thumb over his right shoulder. “R-Right, lemme just—“

“Here,” one of his friend’s says, extending a piece of paper. He has brown hair and matching eyes, paired with a calm, logical aura. You’re pretty sure you heard Han call him Seungmin. “I wrote it all down for you. If it’s alright with you, we’d like to keep the insurance companies out of this situation, so...we’d be happy to pay for the damages out of pocket. We’re very sorry.”

“Hmph,” You scoff, snatching the paper. As genuine as he may seem, it’s probably a fake number, with a false address and a made-up company name. Some forged on-the-spot license numbers. You glout over the paper and nice handwriting.

“Something wrong? Did I forget anything?”

“Show me your license.”

Han flinches, Seungmin remaining very still. Their faces both harden into something frantic. “...Well...” Seungmin begins, “...about that…”

“You don’t have your license?” You frown. “You could be arrested for this, you know.”

Han chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Ha-ha, yeah, I-I know—“

“Then why were you driving without it?” Your arms cross. “You should always have it on you, always. It’s careless to leave it at home, or in another car, or somewhere else...what are you laughing about?!” You holler, whipping over your shoulder.

Junyong covers his mouth, bowing his head so only his eyes peer over the hood. He takes an exaggeratedly loud sip of his Matcha Latte. “Nothing!” he shouts, “It’s just...” ...Sip. “...you kinda sound like his girlfriend or something, scolding him like that.”

“Huh?!”

“Oop!” He quickly ducks back into safety. You sigh, overly annoyed and done with it all.

...Zen, Y/n. Totally zen.

“...I’m...sorry,” you manage, biting the side of your tongue. Apologizing to the enemy should be treason! “This is just such a pain. But I understand it was an accident.” You look each of them in the eye. “Are you okay? No one was hurt, were they?”

Han opens his mouth to speak, but his buddy stops him, covering it in an odd fashion. “We’re fine,” he insists, smiling. “And, again, we’re so sorry about this.”

“...Right…” You rummage through the bag around your bodice, flipping out your mini planner and tearing off a page. “Here’s my information. You can call or text me about the damages tomorrow, er…” You smile, just a little. “Later this afternoon.”

“Yes!” Seungmin states, taking the paper and passing it to Han Jisung, Enemy No. 1. “We’ll definitely do that!”

You press your smile further, forcibly, politely. “Grea—”

Flash!

“OW!”

From Han’s...if you’re recalling correctly, “Minho’s” car...you see Freckles squint, hands raised to block the flash bombs going off behind you like the paparazzi just showed.

“WHO LEAVES THE FLASH ON?!?!” he cries, swatting at...the air. You spin around to scowl.

“Junyong! What are you doing?!”

“Don’t worry, Y/n!” Junyong howls. “I got pics of everyone involved, and both license plates! They can’t run now!!!”

“......” Well, the Matcha Latte was certainly kicking in. You would have thrown a donut, had one been available to you.

While being ushered off, Han continues to stare at the paper curiously. Then, as if struck by a realization of some sort, he looks up at you over his friend’s shoulder, smiling.

“I thought I recognized you! Y/n L/n, right?”

You blink, unenthused. “That’s what it says on the paper.”

Han just continues smiling. There’s some sort of sparkle in his eye that’s visible even in the blotched moonlight of storm season. It sends a shiver down your spine, even after you’ve closed and locked the car doors. “I’ll definitely call you!” He yells, waving. Like a couple of old friends reconnecting, excited to catch up over donuts and coffee.

But he was the enemy. Han Jisung had done something wrong, something cruel, something that had yet to be concluded that you weren’t sure you could ever forgive...so, then...

You start the car with a gentle whir of the engine, setting the gears into reverse. Hesitantly, you glance into the rearview mirror once more, watching him engage in harsh whispers and subtle push-and-shoves before getting in.

His face. His charisma. His profile...two months ago you’d sworn he was the enemy, yet...

...Why was it that you were just as excited?

- ♫ - ♫ - ♫ -

“Wasn’t that the girl that accused us of copyrighting her friend’s track? That was her, wasn’t it?” Felix asks. “...I hope she knows that was all just a misunderstanding…”

Climbing back into Minho’s stolen convertible, because Felix just had to have donuts for National Donut Day at 12 am, Seungmin heaves a sigh, running a sweating hand through his exhaust-riddled hair. Too close, honestly. The infamous Y/n, known for being the Campus Blizzard, could have had them fined, reported on campus, and Han behind bars. ...Yet for some reason, she didn’t.

...Must be in a good mood or something. A saving grace, if he did say so himself. “...Please tell me this was really an accident. You didn’t do this on purpose...right?”

The boy in the driver’s seat smiles...sheepishly. Pulling back up to the window to claim his goods, he places the tips of his ringed fingers together. Takes a breath.

“...If I say half yes and half no, will you be mad?”

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sodamvelvets · 4 years

Text

“ilysb”

park sooyoung x fem idol reader

warnings: intense make out at the start?

word count: 2,790

a/n: this one is inspired by LANY’s ILYSB, it’s my favorite song at the moment :) As promised, Yeri will be next! I really like how this one turned out, so I hope you guys like it too!

Sooyoung wakes up with her arms wrapped tightly around you, your head buried in the crook of her neck. Your soft breaths tickle her skin, causing Sooyoung to smile broadly as she presses a feather-light kiss onto the top of your skull, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“I love you,” She whispers, not caring that in your sleeping state you won’t hear her.

Gently, she tucks a strand of your unkempt hair behind your ear, careful not to wake you, stopping for a moment to admire your delicate features. As she takes in your peaceful expression Sooyoung is certain that no one has ever made her feel the way she feels about you before. No one has ever been able to make her heartbeat quicken to the point where she thinks it will jump from her chest, with just the smallest smile. No one has ever been able to leave her wordless, struggling to even form a single sentence. And most importantly, no one has ever been able to make Sooyoung feel as if she’d move mountains just to hear your elegant laugh.

Before you, Sooyoung occasionally found herself regretting her decision to become an idol. Despite the fact that she loved singing, and even more so her fans, but sometimes she wished she could have a normal life, where her every move wasn’t stalked and critiqued. Her life often felt like she was walking a thin and endless tightrope, where a single misstep would cause her to fall to her doom. It was difficult, finding a balance of her private life and her public one, and while her members also struggled with the same thing, she felt they didn’t truly understand her, none of them ever seemed to be unhappy with their choice to be an idol in the way Sooyoung was, and not wanting to appear ungrateful, she kept it to herself. But then she met you and all doubts about her career disappeared because she realized if she hadn’t become a singer, she would never have met you.

It was backstage at one of Red Velvet’s promotional Inkigayo stages when she first saw you, waiting silently to perform with your bandmates and listening intently to your leader’s encouraging words. All of you were part of a still relatively new rookie group under YG Entertainment. At the time, Sooyoung had only briefly heard of you before, having heard short clips of your newest title track on the radio, but until then, she had never actually seen you and your members. But when her eyes landed on your group, more specifically you, her jaw dropped.

Like many idols under YG, you had a striking beauty, and you held yourself with a certain cold confidence that left an icy feeling in your wake, something your makeup artists definitely played up to, making sure to paint your face in a mature and intimidating way that left Sooyoung staring. Sooyoung was only further smitten as she watched your performance, a bad girl concept that you and your bandmates nailed, your body rolls and intense moves leaving Sooyoung gaping, which Yerim had, of course, made sure to tease her for, the troublesome maknae even going as far to approach your group, and give you Sooyoung’s personal number with a smirk, all while Sooyoung watched with reddened cheeks.

That had been almost a year and a half ago though, and now the two of you were in a fairly open relationship, both of your companies surprisingly having agreed to let the two of you go public, with a few restrictions of course.

“Hey Sooyoung,” A smile spreads across Sooyoung’s face as she hears your husking voice.

“Hi Y/N,” Sooyoung says, shifting her body so your noses are touching, appreciating the way the golden flecks of your brown eyes sparkle in the morning sun. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” You murmur, snaking a hand under Sooyoung’s shirt and beginning to draw circles on her abdomen. “Last night was very tiring.”

Sooyoung chuckles, moving to kiss you, but you shove her away. “Ew, morning breath.” You whine, opening your mouth to continue before Sooyoung quickly cuts you off by flipping you on your back and straddling your waist, wearing a dangerous expression that makes you swallow thickly as the words die in your throat, no longer testifying as she captures your lips with her own in a bruising kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as her tongue tangles with yours, moaning into your mouth. Her palms press you deeper into the mattress causing you to whimper as her kiss becomes rougher, her fingers moving to tangle themselves amongst your already messy hair as she presses her knee in between your legs causing you to let out a surprised gasp.

At the sound, Sooyoung instantly pulls herself away, wearing a knowing grin. “So, I was thinking we could drive out to the Gwangjang Market,” Sooyoung says casually, still hovering over you as your body squirms slightly, trying to escape her grasp.

“Isn’t that a little far away?” You huff breathlessly as Sooyoung begins to teasingly kiss down your jaw.

“Yeah,” She says, groaning as you finally manage to push her off, and by the annoyed look in your eyes, she gets the sense that you’ve figured out she was simply trying to work you up without actually finishing anything. “But the bindaetteok is worth it.”

You laugh, and Sooyoung pulls your body so your head is resting on her chest. “Fine,” You say. “But you better keep your hands to yourself, Park Sooyoung.”

///

“You look good,” Sooyoung comments with a lopsided smile as you step out of your shared walk-in closet, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a Lie Collection T-shirt, coupled with one of Sooyoung’s leather jackets. It’s a much better outfit, Sooyoung thinks, than her plain black slacks and white blouse.

You raise a brow. “You’re only saying that because this jacket is yours.” You respond, a teasing lilt in your voice.

Sooyoung stands, her taller form towering over you as she wraps her arms around your waist. “Maybe.”

You giggle and poke her side, causing her to let out a melodramatic yelp. “Sooyoung,” You say, rolling your eyes. “We should get going, it takes an hour to get there.”

Sooyoung holds your hand throughout the car ride, the two of you making comfortable small talk as Sooyoung drives through the already busy roads of Seoul. Occasionally, she steals glances at you, admiring your serene expression as you watch the colorful billboards pass by, quickly directing her attention forwards when you look over at Sooyoung, knowing if you caught her staring you’d chide her and tell Sooyoung to keep her eyes on the road.

“We’re here,” Sooyoung says as she pulls to stop in a public parking garage a couple miles away from the market. “Well kind of, we have to walk the rest of the way, if that’s alright?”

“That’s fine Sooyoung,” You say, moving to get out, but Sooyoung grabs your wrist.

“Wait, don’t move.”

Sooyoung hears you chuckle as she gets out of the car, walking around to open the passenger side door and offering you her hand, which you take. “I see Seungwan is starting to rub off on you,” You joke.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sooyoung asks as the two of you head for the garage exit.

You shrug. “The both of you are unbelievably greasy Sooyoung.”

Sooyoung lightly shoves you, feigning offense, before reaching into her bag and producing two pairs of sunglasses. Even though the two of you are out to the public, Sooyoung would still prefer if neither of your fans were to recognize you and interrupt your date today. “Put these on.”

You nod, taking them from Sooyoung and slipping them on just before the two of you step into the bustling street.

“It’s a nice day,” Sooyoung notes, glancing up at the clear blue skies. “Jongmyo Park is just behind us, we should go later.”

“Sure, it’s been a while since we last went there.” You say, reaching to interlace your fingers with Sooyoung’s but she dodges your grasp, instead slipping her hand into your back pocket, and pulling you into her side.

Sooyoung laughs as your cheeks redden, enjoying your flustered state as well as the feeling of your smaller body fitting perfectly into hers.

It takes you and Sooyoung about thirty minutes to reach the market, Sooyoung complaining it would’ve taken less time if you hadn’t insisted on stopping to take photos for your social media along the way, which only earns her a slap to the back of her head.

As usual, Gwangjang is crowded with people, tourists and locals alike, and Sooyoung holds you close as you weave through the masses, pointing out stalls here and there that she notices are selling your favorite dishes, before eventually settling on a vendor.

“I’m not all that hungry,” You murmur into Sooyoung’s ear. “I’ll just have some of whatever you get.”

Sooyoung raises a brow, and orders two plates of bindaetteok and a side of japchae, knowing you’d want your own once you started eating some of Sooyoung’s.

“Sooyoung,” You whine as she passes the shop owner twenty thousand won. “I have a comeback soon, I can’t be eating this type of stuff!”

Sooyoung frowns, in her opinion, you’ve always been too harsh on yourself during your dieting periods. “Y/N, you’re going to need your energy for your practice from somewhere.” She scolds, pushing the food into your hands. “Plus it’s only one dish, and knowing you, you’ll burn it off in seconds.”

Hesitantly you nod, sitting down next to Sooyoung at the stall’s table, Sooyoung watching as you begin to eat and laughing at the way your eyes light up at the taste.

“Thank you, Sooyoung,” You say, kissing her cheek as both of you finish your breakfasts, and stand to leave, Sooyoung once again wrapping an arm around your waist.

She hums contentedly in response, giving you a warm smile that you gladly return. Sooyoung’s gaze flicks from store to store as you and her walk towards one of the many market exits, quietly admiring the delicately crafted silk hanboks that are displayed in some of the shop entrances.

As the two of you step outside, Sooyoung notices the sun is slightly lower in the sky than when you first entered Gwangjang, and the air feels a few degrees colder.

“Still want to go to Jongmyo?” Sooyoung questions.

You nod. “Mm-hmm.”

A comfortable silence settles between you and Sooyoung as you walk, your footsteps falling into a synchronized pace, Sooyoung adoringly watching as you excitedly point out stores that interest you, squealing when you spot a poster featuring you and your group in your latest partnership with a popular makeup brand and she chuckles as you delightedly take a picture of the ad to send to your members, beginning to text back and forth with them.

Sooyoung appreciates the new outlook you’ve brought to her life that makes her so much more grateful for moments like these. She loves the youthfulness you’ve given her but also the wisdom, and in a way you remind her of Joohyun, both of you sharing a seemingly icy personality, that once melted reveals a gentle and caring person who while sometimes childish, can also be mature and professional.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask as you look up from your phone.

Sooyoung blinks, not realizing she had been staring. “What?”

You smirk. “You were staring like a creep.”

Sooyoung rolls her eyes, pulling you into her arms. “Is it so wrong for me to want to admire my beautiful girlfriend?” She mumbles into your hair.

“I suppose not,” You say, reaching up to pinch Sooyoung’s cheek, Sooyoung surprising even herself, when she doesn’t swat your hand away. “You know,” You whisper teasingly. “If your members saw this, they’d say you’re getting soft.”

“I am not,” Sooyoung pouts, lightly pushing you away from her, causing you to laugh boisterously, and Sooyoung can’t help but let her scowl turn to a smile at the sound, interlacing her fingers with yours, and wordlessly letting you know you’re already forgiven as the two of you walk the rest of the way to Jongmyo, only stopping once you reach the park’s small pond where a tiny island sits with a large bonsai growing from its center.

Sooyoung sighs happily as you lean into her side, resting your head on her shoulder.

“I really missed this, Sooyoung,” You say suddenly.

Sooyoung glances at you curiously, biting her lip. “Missed what?”

“Just being with you,” You sigh. “Our schedules haven’t been lining up recently, with my group’s upcoming comeback and your sponsorships,” A sad chuckle escapes your lips. “So I guess it’s just nice to be with you finally.”

It’s true, Sooyoung realizes, you’ve both been so busy lately that this is the first time in weeks you’ve been able to have a day to yourself. Despite living together, Sooyoung barely sees you around, unless it’s dead asleep in your bed, exhausted from a long day of practice.

“Y/N,” Sooyoung says, turning your body so she can cup your face. “You don’t know how much I wish I could always be with you, but right now we only have this time together, so we have to make do with what we have. Plus,” Sooyoung adds, stroking your cheek. “Once you nail your comeback and finish promotions we’ll have even more time to be with each other.”

“Why do you always have to be right Sooyoung?” You murmur, hugging Sooyoung tightly.

“It’s a talent,” Sooyoung jokes, frowning as she feels your body tense in her grasp.

“Someone’s watching us,” You whisper into Sooyoung’s neck.

Sooyoung glances over your head, and sure enough, she spots a tall form standing across the pond in the shade of a tree. She squints, unable to make out any distinguishing features except the camera in their hands that is clearly angled at the two of you. “Let them,” She growls, capturing your lips in a rough and possessive kiss, her fingers digging into your hips as she holds you impossibly close, the world around her fading, becoming one about only you and the feeling of your body against hers.

///

The photos of your date are already circulating the web by the time you and Sooyoung get home, and Sooyoung can’t help but laugh at you as you sit at the kitchen table scrolling through Dispatch’s latest article dubbing you ‘Korea’s Favorite Couple’, a blush clearly evident on your face.

“I can’t believe they managed to follow us,” You mutter, closing your laptop and leaning back in your chair wearing a face of disbelief. “They even have pictures of us at Gwangjang, and that place is so crowded it’s nearly impossible to follow anyone.”

“Nothing is impossible for Dispatch,” Sooyoung jokes, leaning against the counter as she scrolls through her music playlists, before eventually selecting Somethin’ Kinda Crazy with a smirk, setting her phone down as the first verses begin to play.

“Seriously?” You ask, making an unimpressed expression, immediately recognizing Seulgi and Seungwan’s distinct voices. “You’re playing your own song?”

Sooyoung shrugs, choosing to ignore your words as she walks behind you, wrapping her arms around you and starting to pepper your neck with kisses. “Dance with me,” She says quietly.

You giggle, clearly surprised by the request. “What?”

“Dance with me,” Sooyoung repeats, a begging look in her eyes. “Please?” She quickly adds, noticing your raised brow.

“Fine,” You say, swatting Sooyoung away and standing from your seat.

With a smile, Sooyoung gently places her hands on your hips, beginning to sway your bodies back and forth in sync as your head rests on her shoulder. Sooyoung hums along to the music, twirling you around occasionally and Sooyoung doesn’t think she’s ever been happier.

A long time ago, Sooyoung regretted becoming an idol, wishing she could have a sense of normalcy. But as she holds you, she realizes she doesn’t regret anything anymore, not only has she found someone that can give her that simple life she’s always craved, but she’s also found someone who can understand her struggles as a celebrity. She’s found her soulmate.

“I like this song,” You murmur as the track shifts to the familiar beat of LANY’s ILYSB, and Sooyoung presses a gentle kiss to your lips, letting the music warp the two of you into your own personal universe.

“I love you, babe, so bad,” Sooyoung sings softly, and despite it being a part of the song, Sooyoung means every word of it, she does love you, so very bad.

#girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #red velvet x reader #red velvet imagines #joy x reader #red velvet scenario #red velvet fluff #red velvet #joy #joy imagines #joy scenarios #park sooyoung x reader #park sooyoung

283 notes · View notes

lessinkmoregraphite · 3 years

Text

Artificial AU prologue part 1

I have no patience and want to share stuff I do, so. Have the first segment of my most recent post-Forces au, aka Artificial AU. It’ll probably be on ao3 eventually, maybe with some small edits, but for now have this mess.

The first clear thought Infinite had was surprise that he was able to have a thought. The (nope) experience he'd had before the world went dark should have killed him, he shouldn't be able to think anything.

But here he is. Thinking. Huh.

He tried to pry his eyes open, found them sticky with sleep and heavy with fatigue, and gave up. Instead he ran a physical assessment of his body - overall aches, especially bad at his wrists, ankles, and chest, but none of that was shocking (nono not a pun this time). What was more confusing was the slight resistance when he managed to shift one of his arms - bandages, he guessed, based on the feeling when he bent his wrist. Most of the way up to his elbow, too - not a sh- surprise. The others were probably just as bad.

Consciousness was already slipping through his grasp, but he had just enough time to wonder who would bother to bandage him up before he slipped back into cool darkness.

The next time, he was a little less foggy; enough to be alarmed and try to sit up. Which did not go well, as his chest screamed in protest and he froze halfway up with his mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

Hands pressed to his shoulder and back, gently but efficiently pulling him to lay back down. For the first time, he noticed how soft the pillow was. It probably wasn't really that soft, but somehow it was the most heavenly thing ever in that moment.

He shoved the thought away and forced his eyes open, muzzle wrinkling in distaste at the gummy feel of them. He could just make out a blurry red and yellow blob in front of him, but no features past that.

Dry lips opened, his voice emerging in a creak rather than words. Immediately, a straw was pressed to his lips, and he slurped greedily at the liquid offered to him until it was pulled away. He frowned, but didn't protest, instead croaking out something like a question - the words were slurred, but still words.

"Don't worry," came the response, quiet but much clearer than his own voice. "You're safe. Rest."

And while a part of him immediately balked at the idea of listening to someone telling him what to do, he was helpless to resist the darkness returning to him.

The time after that, he woke up feeling almost lucid. His body still ached, and his thoughts were a little too fuzzy to be considered normal, but he could think enough to pry his eyes open and look around.

It looked like a random bedroom, except too clean. Like it hadn't been used until now. Plain white walls and off-white carpet, a few shelves on one wall, a dresser and desk on another. The bed he was on looked like it had been dragged out from the corner to the middle of the room, so there was space on all sides. It made his fur prickle slightly but there wasn't much he could do about it.

His gaze finally fell to the floor, on the one bright spot in the room - a figure that appeared to be doing a plank. He could make out green boots and red fur, but the rest was covered by a frankly hideous mustard-colored jacket.

He spent a good few minutes just staring, trying to process why anyone would willingly wear that color (especially when it basically made them look like an off color stoplight). His pause to gape lasted long enough that the figure finished the plank and rolled over, brightening and jumping up upon seeing him.

The wolf scurried over to the bedside, pausing a beat too long before speaking. "Do you need anything?"

"To stop looking at that horrible thing masquerading as clothing."

"It's warm," he said, not looking offended in the least. "And big. Are you hungry?"

...Yes. But he wasn't eager to acknowledge that, even if it was pretty obvious that this person had been looking after him already. Especially since at a second glance, he had a vague recollection of where he'd seen him before.

Not that it seemed to matter much, since the wolf had already headed toward a box of something set against the wall, rummaging around inside until he came up with a pouch of squeeze applesauce.

"Here," he said, coming over to set the pouch on the edge of the bed. "Let me know if you need help."

Infinite scowled at him, then reached for the pouch and began fiddling with the screw top. Much to his chagrin, it turned out to be less of an absurd suggestion than he'd first thought; he could barely get the top open even with the ridiculous wings on it lending leverage. He slurped the food up angrily while glaring at nothing in particular.

The wolf stared at him in silence while he ate, expression oddly blank. Infinite finished the pouch quickly and pulled it away to scowl. "What?"

"Want another?"

"...Sure."

They repeated the process, up to and including the weird staring. This time, when Infinite finished, the wolf had a different question. "Should I still call you Infinite?"

He stiffened, suddenly on guard. Some part of him had wondered if this idiot just didn't realize who he was, and that's why he offered some sort of care, but if he knew...

"Call me whatever you want," he finally said. There was a beat of silence before he added, "Why the hell are you helping me?"

The wolf blinked. "Aren't you supposed to help people when they get hurt?"

Infinite's scowl deepened. What kind of answer - whatever. It's not like he was in any shape to refuse freely given help, much as it galled him to admit it.

"I'm Gadget," the wolf said, before Infinite could reply.

"That's a weird name." The response came on autopilot, not really the truth but the first thing that came to mind.

Gadget shrugged. "Probably. I picked it."

"So... it's a nickname?"

"Uh... don't think so?"

Infinite groaned and stared at the ceiling. What the actual hell. "Whatever. When should I expect the resistance to come throw me in a cell?"

There was a long silence. Infinite blinked and glanced over, finding Gadget rubbing at the back of his neck with a guarded look. "...Oi."

"They won't be," Gadget mumbled, his voice suddenly... distant, for lack of a better word. "I'm not with the resistance anymore."

There was another paused as that processed. Infinite scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What, did they kick their star rookie out after defeating the big bad?"

"No. I left before they could."

Yet another pause as Infinite failed to find words. He'd been being sarcastic, because really why should he believe this (apparently former) Resistance member had left their ranks and then just happened to end up taking care of him? It was a little too convenient. But from what little he'd seen, Gadget didn't seem like the sort to fake his emotions - he could see every thought running through the idiot's head in glorious technicolor - yet here he was, apparently on the verge of tears over... something. Something about leaving the Resistance.

Before he could pry more information out of him, Gadget perked up with a seemingly genuine smile. "Not important though. Are you still hungry? Thirsty? It's been a while since you woke up last time."

Infinite shut his questions back, accepting the offer of more food and water instead. He'd get his answers eventually; it's not like he hadn't worked to subtly get information from people before. Whatever Gadget was hiding, he'd find it.

For now, he'd work to regain his strength. The rest could wait just a little longer.

Gadget sat on the dresser, staring out the little window. The idyllic forest scene felt weird, considering that he knew they were still in Eggman's base, but it was certainly a better view than broken machinery.

Today had been the most lucid Infinite had been in the dozen or so times he'd woken so far, but he still hadn't pushed for more information. Not that Gadget was complaining. It was just... strange.

Still, the chance to sort things out a bit more was welcome. He'd barely had a chance to figure out how to respond to everything himself, much less how to bring it up with someone else.

There was a reason he'd run from the Resistance before they could find out. He didn't know how to talk about these things.

Gadget caught himself rubbing at the back of his neck again and pulled his hand away, stuffing both hands in the opposite jacket sleeves. That was becoming a habit. His first Resistance team had warned him about that kind of habit, and he didn't want to deal with breaking one.

He also didn't want to deal with leaving the Resistance at all, but... he doubted they'd react well when they learned what he was. He sure hadn't. It was easier to just... vanish, completely avoiding the consequences.

Finding Infinite had been an accident. He'd come here to find answers (to look at that lab that felt so dreadfully familiar); instead he'd found the jackal passed out in a room that he didn't want to think about too much, burns on his limbs and chest and vitals shaky. He'd jumped to help on instinct; after all, he hadn't been lying about helping people.

Well. Lying by omission, perhaps. He'd heard about that sort of lying. Because yes, he'd saved Infinite because he was once told that helping people was the right thing to do. But he also did it because if anyone could relate to him, could make him feel a little less alone, it might be Infinite.

After all. Even if Gadget was just a prototype, they'd been made for the same purpose.

#gadget the wolf #infinite the jackal #sonic stuff #sonic forces #mine writes #artificial au

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korra-the-red-lion · 3 years

Text

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 3: Rookie Hazing?

(Lyn)

My breathing fell into my familiar breathing pattern as I jogged through the town. The early morning sun was peeking through the clouds, trying to be seen. My music was blasting through my earbuds as I turned to go through the walking trail this morning.

Today was the first day of actual classes and practices. Me and a few of the others already have been to the pool a bunch this week, but this is when shit got real. After the disappointing loss to Turner University at last year’s AUS, Coach Jacob and team really wanted to get the title this year. It was one thing to lose, it was another thing all together to lose by 1 fucking point. Ugh, even just thinking about it pissed me off. Turner is a good school, don’t get me wrong. But man, we worked our assess off last year.

I passed by an older couple going out for their usual morning walk. I waved to them as I always do, earning a smile in return. I liked the coziness of this small town. Being able to see the same people every morning doing their routine as I did was relaxing and brought a sense of calm to my otherwise chaotic life.

I sprinted the final couple of kilometers home, slowing down as I approached the track around the football field. Loryn, Maddie, and Andrew where already there, chatting as they stretched for their early morning workout.

Loryn smiled when she saw me coming and tossed me my water bottle. I pulled out my music and took a huge swig from it. “Thanks, I really needed that,” I said. I lifted the end of my shirt and wiped the sweat and water off my face.

“No problem-o,” she responded. “How was your run?”

“Same as usual,” I said as I take another drink.

Andrew walked over and gave me a huge hug. “Ready for the season, Lyn?”

I nodded into his shoulder, holding onto his shirt. Andrew was the captain of the Men’s team, and he was like an older brother to me. This was his last year on the team, and I really wanted to win the championship for him and the other 4th years. They put so much into this program, and just one win would be an awesome reward for them.

“Please don’t cry, or I might start too,” he mumbled.

“Not crying,” I pulled away, grinning at him. “I’m just thinking of how lame the team’s gonna be once you finally retire from it. Are they gonna make Will the captain next year, because like, yeesh.”

This earned a laugh from Andrew. “Well, I frigging hope not. Y’all better vote for Oliver, or Thom. If Will gets the captain position next year, you’re all doomed.”

“Fuck me with a rusty screw if Will gets it,” said Maddie bitterly. “The only thing bigger than his ego is his Hummer. I swear, I will never get over his parents airlifting that thing across the fucking country.”

It’s not like we hated Will or anything, he just was a huge pain in the ass. Both his parents are doctors, and he makes a point of letting you know how much money he has. During his first year here, apparently, his parents had his Hummer helicoptered across the country so he could have it here. Not sure why he didn’t drive the damned thing instead, but the rich do very extreme and extravagant things to prove their wealth. Maddie is a 3rd year like Will, so she’s been putting up with his Will-ness longer than Loryn or I.

We did our usual morning workout routine, just to get used to the rhythm again. Medicine ball tosses to each other with an added squat. After that, 2 sets of 20 jackknifes, 2 sets of 25 crunches, and 2 sets of 1 minute plank. We did our wheelbarrow run across the football field, giggling like fools as we did. Andrew and Maddie beat me and Loryn by a fingertip. Loryn jokingly apologized for being too short, a running joke on the team.

After that, we headed to food hall. Loryn liked to make fun of me for calling it that, since it was technically called meal hall, but that’s where I get all my food, not just meals. Hence, food hall. Still, she immediately started teasing me as we got near it.

The hall was abuzz with all the new frosh and returning students talking about their classes. It was nice to see this place so lively after being essentially dead for the week. I could already hear people talking about going to First Class Bash, the big first party of the year. I never really went to those often, parties that is, since the team had a drinking ban in place as soon as the season started. Maybe if some of the guys on the team wanted to go I would, but I was just as happy to stay in with the goofballs and have our own get together.

Oh shit, speaking of. The rookie party was this weekend, actually. It almost slipped my mind. Today was their official first day. It may sound weird, but Coach Jacob liked having them come for their own practice to get used to each other and the facilities first. That way, if they don’t feel like sticking around, there’s none of that awkward shame of seeing your ex-teammates on campus. Not that anyone actually gave a shit.

I sat down next to Matt and Kerry, two members of the team. They were nearly identical twins, but with different body builds since they swam different strokes. Matt was bulkier in his shoulders and trunk cuz he swam butterfly like I did, while Kerry was leaner but a bit bowlegged from swimming breaststroke for so many years. Kerry was letting her hair grow out after shaving it last year, and it was tied up in this stupidly adorable tiny ponytail, while Matt had shaved his hair into practical buzzcut. Kerry leaned over once I was settled and pointed.

“Did you see?”

“Did I see what?” I asked as I shoved the whole fried egg into my mouth.

“Derek is sitting with Poppy.”

I rolled my eyes. Derek Freeman was one of my exes from last year. Lyn from first year got a little crazy when it came to dating, and I ended up going through 6 different people before finally calling it quits. Derek was one of them, but he was by far the worse. He got super possessive and couldn’t understand why I dumped his creepy ass. He always knew my schedule and followed me everywhere. He would wait for me outside the pool and walk back to my res with me, which would have been super sweet if he didn’t ask to come inside every single time. Even after we broke up, he still followed me places. Eventually he got the message once I started dating Willa Hoffman, but man was he annoying.

Then there was Poppy. There was nothing wrong with her, per se. We just were partners on a project last year and she nearly cost me getting an A+ in Intro to Sociology, much to my annoyance. I cared a lot, maybe a little bit too much, about my grades. So, yeah, there’s nothing that really pisses me off more when you get stuck with a shit partner for a project.

“Honestly, Ker, I don’t care,” I said. “Hell, they deserve each other IMO.”

Kerry shrugged as she got back into her seat properly, finally letting Matt get back to eating. We ate in comfortable silence before Matt spoke up.

“Gunner is on probation.”

I dropped my fork in confusion. Even Kerry looked confused. “What do you mean, Matt?” I asked, leaning against the table as I did, locking eyes with him.

He sighed and ran a hand over his head. “Okay, don’t tell anyone because I’m not supposed to know, but Gunner was caught doing drugs this summer. Like, coke. Anyway, Jacob heard about it and helped him through rehab and stuff, but the dean put him on probation until his grades and attitude prove that he actually got clean.”

“Shiiiiiiit,” I pushed my tray away. Leo Gunner was the best sprinter on the team, leading the Men’s team to having great scores in the relay last year. If he wasn’t allowed to swim this season, we might be in serious trouble. There was no one as fast as him. The next best would be Parker, and even then, he wasn’t near Gunner’s level.

“Oh, that’s awful,” said Kerry, putting her hand over her mouth.

Matt nodded. “Yeah, it’s shit for sure. I talked to him this morning and apparently, he’s allowed to practice, but he might not be allowed to sign up for the meets. I think Jacob might bring it up to Andrew and Emma today, but he might not let the rest of the team know just yet.”

The information sat heavy in my stomach. I walked all the way to my class with my mind racing, wondering if there was any way we could fight this decision. All conclusions came to a resounding no. The university was pretty strict about athletes using illegal substances. They only thing that probably saved his ass was that it happened this summer.

I took my usual spot near the front, waiting for the rest of the students to fill in. This was a second-year history course, and I really wanted to be psyched for it, considering history was my favourite subject, but it was hard when I was worrying about things out of my control.

“Mind if I sit?”

I looked over and nearly groaned when I saw it was Will. I nodded, but he was already taking the seat anyway. I hated sitting next to Will, he just sat on Instagram the whole time, or TikTok. Fuck my life right now.

He reached over and tugged on my ear. “Why the long face, Lyn?”

I batted his hand away. He knew I was self-conscious of how big my ears were, and he liked to pick at that at any opportunity. “No long face here, Will.” I forced a grin onto my face before turning my attention back to my desk.

“Whatever you say.”

Ugh, def getting a new seat on Thursday. I can’t deal sitting next to him and dealing with his antics at practice too. There was only so much abuse one gal could take for the day.

XXX

Thank God it was Friday!

I managed my schedule perfectly, so I had no classes on Friday. It made the other days more miserable for sure, but having a three-day weekend every week? Exactly what I needed to stay on top of things this year. Just practice in the afternoon, and I was free to enjoy myself. The rookie party was tomorrow, and they were a good batch. Loryn’s younger sister Robin joined the team this year, which was super exciting for her.

I got to enjoy breakfast without having to rush it, plus no homework was assigned this week. Today was a nice one, and I was looking forward to just being able to chill and enjoy it. As I left, I happened to notice that Ally was leaving the food hall. Grinning, I raced over to where she was.

“Hey, Ally!” I fell into step beside her.

“Lyn!” Ally looked up at me, a smile breaking out. She had her hair in this half up pinned style, it looked really good on her. Also, she was wearing different glasses today. She usually wore some rectangle ones, but these ones were like a half moon shape.

“How’s your first week, frosh?” I asked.

“Well, after the disaster that was the bookstore incident…” she looked down, thinking about something before shaking her head. “It’s been lovely. I think once I get into a nice routine, I won’t feel as anxious.”

I was curious about the whole bookstore thing, but I respected that she clearly wasn’t ready to talk about it openly with me. Fair enough, we only just met last week, and I barely have seen her since.

“Hey, well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself so far! Is it cool if I walk with you until your next class? I’m free.”

“Oh,” she smiled shyly at me, “that would be really nice, actually.”

I smiled back. We chatted about her classes all the way to Bennet, where her class was. I leaned against the wall as she finished explaining something about her drama class. That was a class I took in first year, but it sounds like she has Professor Kinkly, whereas I had Professor Statton. Kinkly was more by the book, Statton was know as the campus kook. I had a feeling Ally was gonna like Kinkly more.

“I guess I should head in, huh?”

“I guess you should. But hey,” I said, “we should totally hang this weekend, you know? Whatcha doing tomorrow?”

Ally looked contemplative before shaking her head. “Nothing, I think.”

“Perfect! Let’s grab a bite to eat, and you can finish telling me all about your week.”

“O-okay, sounds great!”

Ally wished me a goodbye and dashed inside, as to not be late for class. I watched her go before snorting under my breath. I liked her, she was smart and funny. It would be nice to have someone as a friend outside the team. Guess it was just my lucky day when she approached that table I forced Loryn to help me set up.

Feeling great, I practically skipped all the way back to my res.

XXX

The smell of chlorine was something that was never going to get old. It calmed me when nothing else could. I know that sounds a little dramatic, but the pool is my second home. Didn’t matter how I felt at home or school or whatever, I could come to a pool and swim those thoughts and troubles away.

We finished with our pre-practice routines, and I jumped into the pool, shivering a little as the cold water enveloped my body. Right away everything felt amazing. Reach, pull, reach, pull. The easy lazy rhythm of the warmup let my thoughts drift away. It was nearing the end of the warmup when I caught Andrew’s eye underwater during my turn, and we ended up racing our last 25 meters. He beat me and we high fived as I hung onto the lane rope.

Coach Jacob laughed as the others finished their warmups. He was a retired swimmer himself and did things to keep himself in shape. He had one of those kind faces that really made you feel welcomed. Sure, he could be a hard ass, but he just really wanted win, like we all did.

He read practice off the board for us, and we did as was instructed. In in a blink of an eye, practice was over, and we were all hauling our asses out of the pool. Practice wasn’t too hard today, but since it’s been a while since any of us had structure like that, we all felt the ache of the week catching up with us finally.

“Okay, gather ‘round!” Coach Jacob called out. We all headed towards the bench and took seats. Loryn sat next to me and we cuddled, trying to not freeze as we listened to what he had to say.

“So, this is the last year for some of us,” he indicated the 4th years with a nod, “and a new beginning for others,” a nod to the 1st years. “However, the goal is the same. We wanna be number one at AUS’s this year. We wanna send people to CIS’s this year. We wanna kick Turner’s stupid butt all over the pool deck. We start morning practice next week, 5:30 sharp, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Gym time is 6:00 on Tuesday and Thursday. We have our usual afternoon practice at 4:30 every day. If you can’t make practice, the reason better be fucking good. Rookies, never be afraid to ask questions. These guys are your family while you’re here, and like family, sometimes we don’t always get along. But try your best to stay pleasant with the others. Lastly, welcome to the Mount Seamus Wolves!” he finished with a huge grin. We clapped and headed into the locker rooms, where a hot shower was calling my name.

“Man, I am looking forward to the weekend!” Loryn said with a huge stretch as we grabbed our shampoo and conditioner.

“Me too,” I said with a grin. “I already made plans.”

“Oh my God, shut up! Who with?”

“That cute frosh from last week.”

Loryn scrunched up her face in thought. “Gabriel or the brunette you showed around?”

I laughed, hitting her playfully with my towel. “Dude, you’re the only one who thinks Gabe is cute, you know?”

“Not true! I know Jackie does too!”

“Damn right I do!” Jackie said, walking by us with a laugh.

We all laughed as we turned the water on. It felt great to take a hot shower after practice. We were gossiping about people on campus when I noticed something strange.

“Emma, are you okay?”

Emma, the captain for the Women’s team, looked over. “Huh, why you ask?”

I blinked. “Because you’re covered in…blood?”

She looked up and shrieked. Sure enough, something red and gooey was coming from the shower head. Actually, it was coming from all the showers! We all screamed and ran out, not even bothering to turn them off.

“What the actual fuck?” Emma was shaking with either anger or fear, wasn’t sure which it was. “Did someone think it would be funny to prank the rookies or something?” She whipped around to glare at all of us.

When no one fessed up, she growled in annoyance. “Okay, maybe one of the guys thought it would funny? Whoever did this, it’s seriously fucked up. Getting sprayed with fake blood is not how I wanted to end my Friday night!”

“Uh, not to be that person, Emma,” I said hesitantly, “but if it was fake blood…wouldn’t it have stopped by now?” I pointed over to the running showers, where a steady stream of red was still coming out.

Emma’s face paled. She looked at her hands, where the blood was and sniffed it. “Oh my God…it smells like copper.”

That’s when Jackie threw up all over the floor and Kerry burst into tears.

XXX

I was in my room, curled up under all the blankets I could possibly be curled under. We texted the boys after, to see if something similar happened to them. When Andrew and Matt both responded no, we got even more freaked out. We ended up calling campus security for them to see if there was something they could do about it. They said they would look into and escorted us back to our residences. I took such a scalding hot shower that I was still pink from it, but I still didn’t feel clean.

The group chat was blowing up with questions. The poor rookies were understandably upset. They thought someone was trying to haze them, but that wasn’t the case at all. Hazing wasn’t something we did anymore. They didn’t do it in my first year, and Emma said that her class was the last one that got hazed.

I didn’t have the energy to be dealing with this, so I muted the chat for the time being. Nura was sitting on her bed, her eyes on her computer screen but I could see her looking at me from time to time. I mean, I would be too. If Nura came back and told me that she just ended up taking a blood shower, I would be fucking concerned too.

I rolled over and tugged at my ear. It was habit of mine when I was anxious about something, and I was definitely anxious about this. If it turned out to be a stupid prank from one of the other teams, that would be one thing. But if it wasn’t…then what did it mean?

I had this crazy thought, pulling my phone up to my face. I wanted to see if it happened any time else. I did a quick Google search, and found out that this wasn’t the first time that something like this happened at this school. It was in 1968, and in 1995, and again in 2007. Okay, that was interesting.

Okay, so unless someone was dumping bodies into a water reservoir that only affected the women’s locker room, something freaky was going on. I’m not that big into that spiritual mumbo jumbo, but I’m not going to deny that this was more than a coincidence. However, it was history, something I specialized in. If I could trace back and see if there were any more connections, maybe I can establish a pattern.

That was a problem for Lyn of tomorrow, however. I was thoroughly exhausted after tonight’s events. I bookmarked the page on my phone, just so I wouldn’t forget. I was going to need my laptop for this.

I just hoped I could find something that can explain what the hell happened.

#unnatural affairs #ua #paranormal #lyn hart #ally holland #mystery #gore mention #unreliable narrator #murder mysteries #ghosts #haunting #original story #original fiction #romance #sports #writing

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years

Text

tattoos together // tyler seguin

pairing: tyler seguin x reader

summary: it’s july 4th and you’re supposed to be celebrating on the cape with your best friend, tyler, and dozens of party goers. but things take a turn when he’s drafted to the dallas stars.

(a slow burn, friend to lovers fic w/ the gift of boston tyler seguin and dallas tyler seguin AND matching tattoos)

word count: 4k+

author’s note: this is just part one of idk how many, but i was inspired and needed to write this story. think of this chapter as a prologue of some sort... ps. this was inspired by “tattoos together” by lauv

warnings: alcohol, getting tattoos (??), cursing

Sometime within Tyler Seguin’s first year living in Boston, you bumped into him at a coffee shop. I mean, literally bumped into him. You were on the way to your first day of classes at Boston University and spilled your entire coffee on him. It was his fault, which he claimed almost immediately as he’d been looking down at his phone when it happened.

You had no clue who he was, but he was so pretty that your anger about the wasted coffee quickly dissipated. You almost let him get away with fucking up your morning routine. But, as if he knew the coffee was important, he nodded over to the shop and offered to buy you another.

You stood in line beside him, twiddling your thumbs around the sleeve of the now empty coffee cup.

“Are you from around here?”

“Yeah, I grew up just outside the city.”

“You live here now, though?”

“Yep.”

The conversation was dry, due in part to your exhaustion and lack of caffeine. He noted this, not bothering to push conversation anymore despite feeling desperate to talk to you.

You ordered, “Medium French Vanilla coffee with half and half, please.”

“She’ll have a large,” Tyler interjected. “She needs it.”

Before you could object, the barista was gone and Tyler was shrugging unapologetically at you.

When Tyler took the coffee from the barista’s hand, he snatched the pen off the counter as well. You watched as he etched his name and number onto the sleeve before handing it over to you. He smiled easily and said, “I’m new around here. I could use a native’s tips on the city.”

You never called him, or texted, until running into him at a bar a month later. He recognized you immediately from the other side of the room and quickly made his way over, shrugging off a girl whose name he couldn’t remember just to get to you. You had your back to him, but the look on your girl friend’s face was enough to make you turn and face him.

“French Vanilla,” he greeted. You laughed. “You never called.”

“I don’t normally call random men I meet, whether it’s at a coffee shop or a bar.”

Tyler scoffed at this before asking, “Have you gotten a drink yet?”

And, just as quickly as it had gone up, your cool girl façade was down.

“No, this place has the shittiest service.”

“Yeah?” Tyler asked, sensing the challenge. He raised a hand at the bartender and was served immediately. He relayed his drink order before glancing over at you and telling the bartender, “And whatever these two want.”

The bartender took your orders and left to make your drinks, leaving you to stare at Tyler in amazement, “How?”

“I might be a bit of a regular,” he murmured. When the drinks were placed down and Tyler grabbed his card to pay, the bartender simply stated, “You’re covered. Keep playing hard.”

“Playing hard?”

“I’m Tyler Seguin,” he said. He extended his hand and you shook it, a look of confusion still displayed on your face. “Of the Boston Bruins.”

“Oh, shit!” That’s all you said in response before dropping your hand. “Cool.”

The response was refreshing. Most girls already knew who he was, but you didn’t and he liked that. He invited you and your friend back to his booth, and you went because the promise of free alcohol was too good to pass up.

“Most girls would’ve at least texted me if I gave them my number,” Tyler pushed. You were sitting beside him, watching your friend flirt with one of his teammates. His arm rested on the couch behind your head.

You smirked at how annoyed he seemed to be by the radio silence from you. Stirring the straw in your drink, you shrugged and teased, “Had I known you were a rich and famous hockey star, maybe I would’ve called you. You should’ve told me sooner.”

“Does this mean you’ll call me tomorrow?”

“I can smell the desperation on you, Seguin,” you stated. You turned your body to face him. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Who said I wanted that?”

“Your body language and persistence.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Something like that.”

At the end of the night, you wrote your number on a napkin and shoved it in his shirt pocket.

From then on, he invited you out every time he was hitting the bars. Pretty soon, he was asking you to grab food in the middle of the day. It snowballed into movie nights and wine, sleepovers with face masks, and lots of take-out.

Tyler liked you, but he liked the freedom of casual hookups way more. His fear of losing you was much stronger than his want for a relationship. And the same could be said for you. You were crazy about him, but not crazy enough to lose him. So, somewhere along the line, your relationship became strictly platonic.

Besides, it was easy to ignore your feelings when you’d only admitted it out loud once (under the influence of tequila) to your best friend, Lauren.

“You can’t expect us to spend as much time as we do with each other and not develop feelings,” you’d said. “But, right now, I’m having fun with casual stuff. And so is he. There’s no reason for me to pursue a relationship with someone as special as Ty right now. It’s too soon, we’re too young. Maybe one day, but not today.”

Now, as you stood teary eyed in his bathroom mirror, you were left wondering if that day would ever come. What the hell had you been biding your time for?

“It’s going to be fine!” Tyler calls from the other side of the bathroom door. You sniffle, but give no response knowing that your voice will fail you. He lets out a long sigh in the hallway. “Will you stop crying?”

“I’m not crying anymore!”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he argues. Despite the situation at hand, you can hear the smile in his voice. “I hear you sniffling. Open the door.

Frantically, you wipe away the smudged mascara beneath your eyes before sucking in a breath and releasing it uneasily moments later. The body behind the door remains, only silently this time. Pushing away from the counter, you turn to the door and grab the nob. When you pull it open, Tyler comes tumbling into the room.

He straightens up and flashes you a lopsided grin before tugging on one of the belt loops on your jeans. You fall into his chest with a thud, melting as his arms wrap around you. For a few moments, the room is silent. He laces his fingers through the ends of your hair and places a kiss on the crown of your head.

You mumble into his chest, “I don’t want you to go to Dallas.”

“I know.”

Suddenly, the sadness fades to anger as your train of thought drifts to the reason you suspect he’s in this situation. He’s been the irresponsible rookie, the life of the party, the womanizer… All titles that definitely made the decision to trade him to Dallas easier.

You push him away with a rough shove of his chest and scold him, “You’re such an idiot, do you know that? Fuck, Tyler.”

A frown replaces his goofy smile as he crosses his arms over his chest and grunts, “This isn’t a conversation I want to have with you of all people.”

You back down from the challenge, acknowledging the bubble of your friendship that so often excluded the hockey world. There’s no reason to shatter it on tonight of all nights, so instead of pressing on, you murmur, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He pulls his snapback off his head to run his fingers through his hair before placing it back down. “Now, can we please eat dinner and get ready for this party? It’s too late to cancel now.”

Down stairs, you and Tyler bustle about the kitchen. He put a pizza in the oven right before the phone call about the trade came in and you ran off to cry in the bathroom. When you return, it’s done and Tyler grabs a dish towel to take the tray out of the oven.

You slice the pie into an equal eight pieces before he takes it to the dining table. Tyler eats two slices for every one you manage, making sure you’re getting enough before picking up the next one. It’s comfortably silent, something the two of you are used to. The only conversation you share is between eyebrow raises, giggles, and moans of appreciation for the food on your plates.

When Tyler finishes off his last slice, he wipes the side of his mouth with the back of his hand, then with a napkin, and you find yourself staring. He’s completely oblivious to your wandering eyes, pushing away from the table to take his plate to the sink and leaving the last slice of pizza for you (like he always does).

It’s a mixture of the excitement of the Fourth of July and the sadness of Tyler’s inevitable departure from Boston that ends up getting you as drunk as you are by 8 p.m. It’s been an hour since everyone started showing up and you stopped counting your drinks. And, quite honestly, you’re feeling good.

Tyler is the man of the hour, as expected, and he’s hardly by your side for the first hour. Each time he’s with, you watch him get whisked away to say hello to someone new, be it a teammate or one of his casual hookups.

Most nights this happens you don’t mind one bit, but tonight is different because moments with him are fleeting.

Once it seems like the flow of party guests has slowed, Tyler finds you again. He offers you a sympathetic smile and all is forgiven. From that moment on, he hardly leaves your side. He tugs on your hand when you try to leave the room or pulls you into his side when he sees your thoughts drifting away from the fun of the party.

Tyler knows where your head is at because he feels the same way about leaving. While he loved Boston and he’d miss it when he moved to Texas, he knew it was really you he’d be missing. You made an unfamiliar place feel like home.

“I’m going to top myself off,” you state, pushing yourself away from the counter. You sway on your feet, causing Tyler to reach forward to steady you. “Need anything?”

He shakes his head and responds, “I’m okay.”

Tyler watches you walk away and stares at you through the sliding glass door as you fill up your cup. You’re inevitably joined by a friend of a friend who starts chatting you up and you’re giggling at him, hand on his arm. Tyler needs to shake himself out of the trance he’s in.

The hardest pill for him to swallow, he’s decided, is the fact that he never took his time in Boston to pursue you.

His eyes drift out to the back deck again and he finds that you’ve settled against the railing, gazing up at the guy in front of you. He’s seen you give that look to guys before and he always finds himself wishing he was on the other end of it. With a grunt, he forces himself to walk away and push the sight out of his mind, opting to flirt with the pretty blonde by the beer pong table instead.

It’s not long before you rejoin the party and, when you find Tyler again, he’s playing beer pong with that same girl. He notices your presence as you settle against the back of the couch in the living room to watch the game. Your swollen lips don’t go unnoticed and neither does the presence of the guy by your side. You smile at Tyler and get one in return, but you’re completely oblivious to how half assed it is.

He brushes you off, turning to whisper something flirty in the ear of the blonde beside him before sinking his ping pong ball in the second to last cup. The guy beside you nudges you with his shoulder and asks, “Do you know him?”

“Tyler?” you ask with an air of familiarity. He nods. You smirk mischievously and answer, “Sort of.”

You turn your attention back to the beer pong game. There’s only one cup left and you fully intend on yanking Tyler away from the table as soon as he sinks the final shot, especially once you feel this guy’s hand wrap around yours.

Tyler hits the cup and embraces his partner before turning to bask in the cheers of his party guests, only to find himself face-to-face with you.

“Save me,” you murmur. He glances down at you, then over to your hand. You give him a pout, the type you know he can’t resist, and suddenly he’s relaxing his shoulders, eyes wide and concerned. “I do not want to kiss this guy again.”

“What are you going to do when I’m not here to bail you out anymore?” Tyler asks. You huff at him, adding an eye roll for emphasis. He looks over at your hand again and then up at the guy holding it. “Hey, dude, I’m going to steal her. Enjoy the party!”

Your new friend backs off, as any smart man would do when confronted by Tyler Seguin.

Tyler grabs your hand and pulls you down the hall with him until the music from the living room is drowned out. You find yourselves just outside his bedroom door. The lights in the hallway are out to keep people from coming down to his room. He releases your hand and presses his back up against the wall. You step forward and drop your head to his shoulder.

“Don’t let me do that again,” you whine. Tyler’s shoulders shake with laughter. “What the hell am I supposed to do when you move away?”

“Not make out with weirdos.”

“How was I supposed to know he was weird?”

“You can just tell that about a guy,” Tyler explains. You pull back to look up at him with a questioning glance. “Like, I’m too good looking to be a weirdo.”

“And humble, too,” you tease. He laughs, tossing his head back to direct his laughter at the ceiling. “Did I cock block you?”

He shrugs, a cocky smirk lying on his face, and answers, “Possibly.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. He gives no response, only offering you a soft smile instead of words. Truth be told, he didn’t mind that you pulled him away from the table, not one bit. You stared up at him, admiring his face until hiccup. Tyler giggles as you reveal, “I’m drunk.”

“I can tell.”

“How are you not?”

“I’m getting there,” he answers. He grabs your hip, squeezing it as he pulls you closer to him. “Maybe I’m trying to look at for you.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me!”

“You sure?” he asks, dropping his hand. He furrows his eyebrows, annoyed by your comment, for whatever reason he doesn’t understand. He slips away from you, starts walking down the hall, and calls back, “Let’s see how that goes for the rest of the night.”

Tyler disappears into the crowd, leaving you to fend for yourself. And, at first, it’s not that bad. You find a group of girls that you’d met through the Bruins boys and spend a while hanging out with them. But, one-by-one, they’re plucked up by men at the party and you’re left alone again.

Not long after, the guy from the deck finds you. As he approaches, you search the room frantically to find Tyler is watching. His grin doesn’t fall, it stays wide and taunting. He’s not coming to your rescue this time.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you again,” porch guy says. “Seguin didn’t make a move on you?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

You hope this comment makes him change his mind about hitting on you, but he’s persistent. You can’t even comprehend much of what he’s saying because your eyes keep glancing over his shoulder at Tyler who’s now officially tuned out of your misfortune. He’s leaning against the wall, gripping the waist of some girl doing a full Jersey Turnpike against him.

He glances up once more and smirks. Smug little bitch.

The next time you find Tyler alone, he’s in the kitchen. He’s facing the counter, his back to you, as he slices up limes and places them on a plate with tequila shots in the middle. You approach quietly until you’re close enough to wrap your arms around his waist.

“She comes crawling back,” Tyler murmurs. You hum, poking your head out to the side of his arm to look at what he’s doing. He turns to face you. “What do you want?”

“I want you to keep the creeps away from me.”

“So, you admit that you need me to look out for you?” he asks. He extends his arms behind him and places his palms flat against the counter as you press your face into his stomach. “Say it!”

“I need you to look out for me,” you mumble into his stomach. He laughs before winding his arms around you once more. “Bitch.”

“Hey!” he exclaims, shoving you off him. “Say nice things to me. You know I’m fragile.”

“Mhm,” you hum. “What you got here?”

“Tequila shots,” he answers. He plucks two shots off the plate and hands one over to you. You tap the little plastic cups together before tossing the shots back, shuddering at the taste.

“Let’s ditch this party.”

Tyler chuckles at your proposition, then sees that you’re serious. He takes the shot glass from you and moves to the sink to toss them in it. He turns again to face you and leans up against the edge of the counter.

“What? You want me to just kick everyone out?”

“Why not?” you ask. Your grin is contagious and it makes Tyler smile even wider. “We don’t care about any of these people anyway. Your teammates that were here all left with the girls.”

“It’s only 10 p.m., though.”

“Okay?”

“The night is young.”

There’s a beat of silence. He’s waiting to see what you have planned at the sake of an early night. You exclaim, “Let’s get tattoos!”

“Tonight?” Tyler asks with his eyebrows stitched together in confusion. You nod, smiling goofily at his surprise. “Your mom would kill me.”

“She absolutely would not,” you remark. “She loves you.”

The compliment brings a smug smile to his lips. Tyler stares up at the ceiling, allowing your suggestion to set in. Finally, he looks back down and asks, “What would we even get?”

It’s not a yes, but it’s close enough. You hop up excitedly, pressing both palms against his shoulders. The answer is easy, so it rolls right off your tongue.

“Stars.”

His eyebrows raise as he repeats, “Stars?”

“Yes, as in the Dallas Stars.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he teases. You glare at him playfully, but your smile returns when he wraps his arm around your waist and brings his face to yours. You can smell the liquor on his breath when the tip of his nose touches yours. He’s so close you could kiss him. “Let’s do it.”

Despite the late hour and it being a national holiday, Tyler’s able to call in a favor and ends up getting a tattoo artist to work on the two of you. Tyler was buzzing with excitement the entire car ride to the tattoo shop. You watched him chat away with the cab driver, wondering how he was being so brave. He feels your eyes on him and looks over with a smile.

“You okay?”

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit. Tyler’s eyebrows stitch together. He reaches out, running his hand over your hair and down to cup the nape of your neck.

“I’ll go first, alright?” he offers. “You’ll be fine. Actually, you have to be fine because you can’t back out now.”

Tyler keeps his promise and settles into the chair effortlessly within five minutes of entering the tattoo shop.

You watch Tyler flex his bicep as he sits and, quickly, divert your gaze. It doesn’t go unnoticed as both the artist and Tyler, glance toward you. Tyler smirks knowingly at the redness of your neck, the subtle biting of the inside of your cheek. He’s satisfied with the reaction, having only gotten it from you twice before tonight.

And, then, he’s brought back to reality as the tattoo artist starts explaining what he’s about to do.

You should’ve gone first because watching the needle go into Tyler’s arm like that freaks you out. Tyler reaches out with his other hand, noticing how pale your face is, and squeezes your knee. You look up at him and he mumbles, “Relax. It’s fine. See?”

He smiles brightly to help the situation

“I’ll be here the whole time, too.”

A little while later, after there’s a star on the inside of Tyler’s bicep, you find yourself in the chair. Your arm is positioned so that your palm is face up. Tyler inches closer to you, the wrap on his arm making an uncomfortable sound, and asks, “Are you sure about getting it on your wrist?”

His question is met with a glare and a sharp, “I’ll back out.”

“You can’t back out, YN!” he exclaims. “We’re gonna have tattoos together! That’s a level of friendship I’ve never been on with anyone before!”

“Friendship?” the tattoo artist asks under his breath. Your cheeks flush at the question, but Tyler ignores it.

“You’re going to be fine.”

You end up feeling more than fine. The feeling of the needle on your skin definitely wasn’t ideal, but it looked worse than it felt. Though, you pretended to be in immense pain as Tyler sat there holding your hand. It was a good excuse for the physical contact.

As soon as the artist is done, he steps away to clean up a bit and Tyler lifts your wrist to his eye level. He stares, open-mouthed, at the four little stars on your wrist. It’s hardly anything to gawk at, but he finds himself falling in love with the little make-shift constellation on your skin.

“It’s so pretty,” Tyler coos. He resists the urge to run his finger along the fresh ink, but he so badly wants to touch it. “I love it.”

You shouldn’t be staring at him like this, especially not when you have fresh ink on your skin to admire. But it’s so hard to look away from him. He’s so pretty. He’s so pretty when he’s admiring you.

“Honesty hour?” Tyler asks as you pull one of his sweatshirts over your head. He’s sitting against the frame of the bed with a bottle of champagne in his hand. You two have been nursing the bottle since you got back to the house over an hour ago, keeping your buzz from the night going.

You sit cross-legged across from him and nod.

“Sure.”

“When I met you in that bar after you didn’t call me, I was so sure that we would sleep together once and that would be it,” Tyler admits. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig. You laugh at him. “You just wouldn’t let me even try.”

“It’s because I find you repulsive.”

“That’s a damn lie!” he exclaims with a cocky eyebrow raise. He extends the bottle to you and you take it without a second thought. “You know I’m attractive.” He waits a beat and says, “I know you’re attractive.”

You swallow the liquid and wave him off, muttering an ‘okay’.

“Two years of friendship and we never even kissed,” Tyler remarks. You nod at him before handing the bottle back to shut him up. It works for a moment as he takes another sip of the alcohol, but then he opens his mouth again to ask, “Why is that?”

“Why did we never kiss?” you ask, making sure you heard him right. Tyler nods. “I’ve seen what happens to the girls you get romantically involved with. They don’t stick around very long.”

You’re surprised by how honest your response is… And apparently so is Tyler. He leans his head back against the bed and runs a hand over the scruff on his face.

“For whatever reason, I wanted to stick around.”

For several reasons, actually, but you can’t say that.

“I’m ready for bed,” Tyler announces suddenly. He takes one last swig of the champagne and hands it over to you. “Finish it off. I’m gonna go brush my teeth.”

You chug the rest of the liquor, feeling the need to be intoxicated to withstand the tension between the two of you. Then, you pop into the bathroom to brush your teeth beside him. He smiles at you in the mirror, happy with the domesticated scene he’s a part of.

He rinses off his toothbrush and places it on the counter before slipping out of the bathroom behind you to return to the bedroom.

You join him not long after. He’s sitting up against the headboard, his newly tattooed arm resting behind his head as he waits for your arrival. You slip under the covers beside him, immediately nestling your head into the pillow beneath you. He slides down as well, flicking the lamp beside him off.

“Ty?” you call. He hums in response. When you shift to face him, he follows your lead. Another minute goes by without a word. The light from the window is just bright enough to make out his profile. You can see his big brown eyes staring at you intently.

Finally, after you fail to speak up, he asks, “Yes?”

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper. Tyler folds his pillow beneath his head and nods. “You don’t know how much I love you.” Tyler was about to butt in, but you pushed your index finger against his lips to keep him quiet. “I’m proud of you, despite everything. I always am.”

“I know that.”

“Yeah, but I don’t say it enough,” you state. Tyler stays silent. “I just feel the need to give you the verbal validation. You know, since you’re so fragile.”

Tyler chuckles at this. He reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but he doesn’t retract his hand right away, allowing his thumb to brush over your cheekbone. He sighs and tells you, “I’m proud of you, too, even though you’re a broke college student.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle along with him. “Promise you won’t forget about me when you’re living large in Texas?”

“I could never forget you, YN,” Tyler murmurs. “Especially not now that you made me get a tattoo with you.”

The room goes silent again, but this silence feels heavy. It’s loaded and slightly uncomfortable. Tyler’s thumb is still running along your cheekbone, until it abruptly stops and he sighs again. He shifts, bringing his face closer to yours and, suddenly, your heart rate speeds up. He states, “Honesty hour.”

“Okay.”

“I think I’d beat myself up forever if I never kissed you before moving to Texas.”

Nothing else needs to be said. You lean in instantaneously and plant your lips on his. It’s somewhere between a peck and something more and it only last a moment. It feels way too quick. When you pull away, Tyler’s eyes are wide and searching.

“What?” you ask. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer. You’re chest-to-chest, staring into each other’s eyes. It feels so intimate and Tyler can’t stop thinking about how that kiss wasn’t enough. All these years he’s been convinced that one kiss would be enough to rid him of his yearning for you.

It only made it worse.

He shakes his head, a coy smile playing on his lips, and then he tucks your head beneath his chin. He decides he can’t kiss you again because it’ll just make this more difficult. His hand travels over your back and keeps you tight against his bare chest. He murmurs, “Goodnight.”

“Night, Ty.”

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin x reader #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin story #dallas stars #dallas stars hockey #hockey imagine #tyler seguin imagine #dallas stars imagine #love #angst #fluff #sports #mk writes

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years

Text

Sick Little Games: Forty

“You gonna be okay for a second?” Clint asked anxiously, handing you a mug of tea and setting a cookie on your desk.

“Babe,” you tell him laughing softly, “I’m fine. Nothing is gonna happen in my office... I don’t even think Bucky knows where it is.”

The Archer frowned and looked towards the door. He knew he could have someone come stay with you. Thor, Bruce, Nat, Even Steve, they all had decided to stick near you when Clint couldn’t be nearby in case you had some kind of trouble. “You call me the second-”

“Clint,” you say softly, kissing him, “We’ll be okay long enough for you to beat up some rookies... Hit them extra for me.”

Clint smiles a little and wraps his arms around you gently, “I promise I’ll hit them extra. Are you sure-”

“We’ll be fine,” you tell him, “Strange made a mess of shit while I’ve been gone... The archive is horrendous. I should probably get stuff fixed.”

“Don’t work too hard,” he says, rubbing your sides gently.

“I don’t plan on it,” you snort, “But doing this at least gives me something to do besides sit and look pretty.”

“But you’re so good at it,” he teases.

You roll your eyes and shove him gently, “Go on,” you tell him, “go work out all your pent up aggression.”

“What aggression?” he asked, “The aggression you fucked out of me this morning, that aggression?” He grins and tickles your side, tightening his grip on you gently to keep you from getting away, “Baby, how could I be angry at anything when I got everything I ever wanted? Got me a nice house, a smokin’ hotwife, and a baby on the way.” He rests his hand on the swell of your stomach, and kisses your nose, chuckling when you start tearing up. “Stop it,” he teases, scolding gently. “So sappy,” he tuts, wiping tears away gently, “That’s not even my best work.”

“Shut up, Dummy,” you sigh, laughing softly as you stand on your toes to kiss him.

Neither of you turns when the office door bursts open, too intent on getting just a little further before he has to go. Nat doesn’t even flinch, she just sighs, “Barton, she’s already pregnant, let’s go we got rookies waiting.”

“But I gotta keep up my streak!” He protested, grumbling as he put his shirt back on.

“Oh my god,” Natasha groaned, “It isn’t like Snapchat!”

“What’s Snapchat?” he asked, blowing you a kiss as he walked out behind her.

“Oh my god!”

You giggle and turn back to your desk, settling into your chair with a sigh. You aren’t entirely sure how Clint thought the two of you were gonna do what he was promising in this room but, you’d been willing to let him try. The ache that he started between your thighs was still there. And uncomfortable. It made getting back to work difficult.

So you don’t immediately notice someone standing in the doorway, looming awkwardly. At least not until a shadow falls over the book you’re looking at. “No, I don’t do love spells,” you say, not looking up, bored of a conversation that hadn’t happened yet.

“That’s a shame, Doll,” Bucky said softly.

You jerk your head up and push back from the desk quickly, fist clenching. Bucky can feel energy crackling, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“Easy,” Bucky said, holding his hands up. “Y/N, I just wanna talk. I wanna apologize.”

“Back up,” you growl.

Bucky doesn’t argue. You might be pregnant, and it might be a little hard for you to get on your feet from your desk chair, but you’re still dangerous. You see him as a threat, and you can and will protect yourself. And your kid. And he knows it. “Easy,” he said softly, holding his hands up, palm out. “Didn’t come down here to fight, Y/N. I don’t wanna hurt you. Or the baby. Really don’t want you going into labor right now- I just- I just wanna talk.”

The growl you give him is almost subvocal and makes him shiver. “I swear,” he said softly, “Y/N I- I was- am the worst fucking person. I’m sorry. I took out decades of pain and fear and rage on you because I thought you’d had it easy.”

You don’t sit down. Or take your eyes off of him. But he’s still breathing so he keeps talking.

“I used you. And hurt you. And tried to ruin your life. I called you a murderer...You. I mean. I wouldn’t forgive me. I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just... I wanted to tell you I was sorry. For what it’s worth. I’m sorry and I- ’m happy for you. You and Clint are gonna have a beautiful baby.”

He doesn’t say that he wishes it was his kid. Or that he loves you. Because that doesn’t matter right now. That might ring a little hollow, given the circumstances. When you lower your hands, Bucky exhales slowly. “Is it a boy or a girl?” Bucky asked, sitting slowly in a chair. He knows he didn’t ask, but at the same time, he just doesn’t want to leave yet.

“A girl,” you answer, cradling your stomach.

Bucky smiles a little, trying to hide that his heartaches. He wanted this. A family. Girls waiting for him at home. A slew of girls.

“How’d Barton take that news?” Bucky asked.

“He asked if we could name her after Nat. And bought her a pink teddy bear suit for when it’s cold... I think he took it fine.” You smile a little, remembering how soft he’d been, and Bucky looks away. You don’t look that way, thinking of him, and he knows it. You don’t have good memories of him. And it bothers him.

“Are you gonna name her after Nat?” he asked, exhaling slowly.

“I don’t see how we couldn’t,” you snort, “She was so excited when we asked if she minded.”

For a long moment, you don’t say anything, and neither does Bucky. Until he does. Because he needs to know.

“Y/N?” he asked, “Can I- can I ask you something?”

“I reserve the right not to answer,” you tell him, still guarded.

“That’s fair,” he said exhaling slowly. “I- did you ever. With our baby-” He doesn’t get the chance to finish that question. You cut him off with an impetuous gesture and an icy look.

“No,” you say calmly.

Bucky shuts his mouth so fast his teeth clack together in his head.

“Whatever you want to know about that, no. You lost any right to talk to me about that when you aired out dirty laundry in a courtroom.”

“That’s fair,” he said wincing, “I just- I just wanted to know.”

“You don’t get to,” you sigh, “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want it to be over.”

Bucky doesn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not before Thor barged into the room, his expression stormy. “My Lady,” he says gruffly, not looking at Bucky.

“Thor,” you say quickly, aware that the God will absolutely remove Bucky, as painfully as he can get away with if you’re distressed by him. And oddly, as angry as you still are at him, you don’t want that. You want him to eat. Just not at your table. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “Bucky was just leaving.”

Thor nodded, stepping into the tiny office, glowering at Bucky as he folded his arms. Clearly intent on staying until the other man left. Bucky took the hint and slid out of the room, shutting the door. He supposed he deserved it. In fact, he knew he did. But, that didn’t mean that being treated like he was going to hurt you felt good.

Still. He left feeling lighter. You’d spoken to him at least. And you hadn’t killed him. It was a start.

__________

Thor stepped closer to you, reaching out to steady you on your feet as you reach up to put a book away. “Are you alright, witchling?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, kissing his cheek while you’re already on your toes.

“And your little one?” he asked smiling a little.

“I think they’re getting a little cramped,” you say, rubbing your stomach ruefully, “she’s not stopped all day.”

Thor smiled, “May I?” he asked, hesitating before touching you.

You nod, smiling fondly and he lays a hand on your stomach, grinning. “She’ll inherit your powers,” he said nodding.

“She may,” you allow, “My mother and grandmother neither one inherited them.”

“She will,” he said smugly, “I can feel it.”

“If you’re wrong I’m gonna laugh,” you warn.

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” he said smiling, kissing your cheek and then bending and kissing your stomach gently, saying a little prayer for both of you. He didn’t know what Bucky had said to you but he didn’t trust him where you were concerned. And he didn’t trust your judgment. Not right now, or ever if you thought you could help someone.

He just hoped that before long Clint would be able to take you home. Before Bucky had time to plan.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #fluff #banter #angst #Clint Barton #Clint Barton x reader #Thor #Thor is protective

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yetremains · 3 years

Text

“...”

“Well damn, alright.” Yang downed the rest of her tea quickly, before gasping for a breath as she shoved her cup away.

“Lightning round, lets go!”

chocolate: when was your first kiss?

“It was in my young teen years, 15 I think. I’d been dating that individual for a couple weeks before they abruptly decided to kiss me then and there. We’d been dancing around the subject for a while. It wasn’t spicy or romantic, merely spur of the moment. Was sweet though. The year after that we had broke up and remained friends for a while until we lost contact.”

french vanilla: how old are you?

“You shouldn’t ask someone their age when they been through shit. Too god damn old is the best answer if you must know. I’m older than 28, trust me. Don’t let looks fool you. But hey, I’m getting even older come December 25th!”

cotton candy: three places you want to travel to?

“Do places long gone count? Can I say Home? Nah probably not. So three places let’s see... Japan, China, Romania. The actual places not whatever anything makes them out to be.”

strawberry: a language you wish you could speak?

“I know a damn lot of languages actually. Sometimes it’s hard to think of the right words to say because of this, knowing so many. It’s one reason I’m so odd with my way of speaking. However, I would not mind learning some dead languages. If that doesn’t count, then... Persian?”

coffee: favorite cosmetic brands?

“Ah hell. I mean, I’m not much of a cosmetic expert here. I work with whatever I really need for a music show or for just every day. I could say L’Oreal because I’m worth it joke but that seems in bad taste. If I was using cosmetics just for the enjoyment or to look special, I just try and get whatever works for me.”

mint chocolate chip: indoors or outdoors?

“Answered this one~!”

cookie dough: do you play any instruments?

“Plenty. I’ve decided to learn a few different ones so I can mix together my own music needs of demands arise for it. But I really enjoy stringed instruments or wind instruments. I carry a small harmonica or Ryūteki in my packs.”

rocky road: favorite songs at the moment?

“Not easy to give an answer for, I’ve got a really broad taste. But I’m thinking something with a heavier beat at the moment-”

butter pecan: favorite songs for life?

“Oh come on this makes it harder. As I said, broad taste. I can find enjoyment in many kinds of music and lyrics. Can’t exactly answer a favorite song for life here.”

cheesecake: what’s your zodiac sign?

“Which zodiac are we talking here? There are a lot out there. But the first one into my head is Capricorn. I am on the 25th of December.”

toasted coconut: the beach or the pool?

“As nice as the ocean can be, fuck the ocean. I’ll enjoy the coast line just fine but you won’t catch me swimming that far out in it. There is damn good reason why I don’t like the ocean much anymore. I’ll relax in a pool or a lake or river, thank you.”

chocolate chip: what’s your most popular post?

“Good question. I’ve made a few social media posts that exploded. But that’s probably not fair considering the music I do. I think my most popular is from years ago when I spray painted a statue of a certain someone to look like a baboon.”

bubblegum: books or movies?

“Both! Why choose? I enjoy both quite a bit. and besides, Books can always be there no matter what. And can hold so much valuable information depending what you are reading.”

pistachio: manga or anime?

“... Both again? But I prefer novels. This is more a guilty pleasure.”

salted caramel: favorite movies?

“I can’t remember the last movie I watched, if I’m honest, let alone a favorite movie.”

birthday cake: favorite books?

“Hmmm. Hard one. I enjoy the collected works of Edgar Allen Poe? There is Shōgun. The Mark of Zorro, Sherlock Holmes, Bram Stoker Dracula... There’s several.”

moose tracks: favorites for manga?

“Not exactly applicable, I don’t remember the name of any I like when I was young.”

orange sherbet: favorites for anime?

“The same as above. Wow I am old... I should really get in touch with these things again.”

peanut butter: favorite academic subject?

“Hah, I loved science and history. A damn lot really. I’ve used both to really help my self along and it’s come in handy. My need for knowledge had me spend a lot of time researching.”

black raspberry: do you have any pets?

“I’ve not had any pets since I was a rookie. Never had the time to truly care for one, and now with a hectic life, I’m not gonna do that to an animal.”

mango: when and why did you start your blog?

“Suppose just to exist and have something to do between pit stops.”

mocha: ideal weather conditions?

“It is torn between two for me. A nice warm day, clear, maybe with a gentle breeze. Some clouds above, and calm. That’s the ideal outing day... But, I suppose due to my birthday, I can enjoy a soft snow coming down,some snow on the ground, watching through a window with tea in hand while bundled up and warm. Much prefer clear day though.”

black cherry: four words that describe you?

“Now that’s just not fair. Let me think... Loyal, Determined, Caring, Protective.”

neapolitan: things that stress you out?

“Being reminded of my failings and those I’ve lost... the people I’ve hurt... Thinking about friends I wish I was closer too but too fearful to be that close. Hm. I can also be stressed out by far too much stimulation for my brain at once that it can spin my gears way too quickly.”

raspberry truffle: favorite kind of music?

“Again, broad tastes. But depending on my mood or feelings, it changes what my favorite kind of music can be. But I will always enjoy something gentle and calming.”

chocolate marshmallow: favorite brands of candy?

“I’ve always been partial to chocolates, or cream items.”

toffee: a card game that you’re good at?

“Ever hear of a game called Egyptian Rat Race? Also known as Egyptian Rat Screw, dunno why of course. I learned this game when I was a kid. 52 card deck, deal to each player until the deck is entirely used and everyone has a pile face down. Starting to the left of the dealer players pull the top card off their pile and place it face-up in the middle. If the card played is a number card, the next player puts down a card, too. This continues around the table until somebody puts down a face card or an Ace. When a face card or an ace is played, the next person in the sequence must play another face card or an ace in order for play to continue.If the next person in the sequence does not play a face card or an ace within their allotted chance, the person who played the last face card or an ace wins the round and the whole pile goes to them. The winner begins the next round of play.“

lemon custard: do you eat breakfast?

“Uh... Admittedly not often. With my metabolism problem I absolutely should, considering the demanding needs. I just can’t always bring my self to do so, the will for it isn’t there. I do snack though.”

dark chocolate: turn ons?

“Ooohh boy... Now this one has me turning a bit red here. I mean there is biting and tight holds, the usual stuff. But... I’m not gonna list a lot here, a turn on can be blindfolding me if I trust my partner enough.”

fudge: turn offs?

“Being an asshole, for one.”

peach: how do you relax?

“A nice cup of tea, maybe some soft music, and let my mind unwind a little. That’s if I’m alone. Otherwise a gentle conversation with a friend about small things... Once upon a time long ago I would have said long hugs or cuddling. Not an option these days.”

praline: a popular book you haven’t read yet?

“I’ve not read The Golden Compass, that has been on my to do list.”

superman: do you like sweaters?

“Weird how this one is with sweaters... but yeah I can enjoy sweaters in the right weather. They can be soft and warm, comfy. Great for cold days.”

cherry: do you drink tea or coffee?

“I drink both actually. But if I have the option for a good tea I’m going to take it without hesitation. Yet the spark of energy from Coffee can’t be denied.”

dulce de leche: an instrument you wish you could play?

“Without a doubt, Taisho-goto. Have you seen one of those? It’s so intricate and amazing, and can sound wonderful. It can be used to play all sorts of things. Fascinates me that the item was half inspired by a typewriter.”

blackberry: have you ever laughed so hard you cried?

“Oh a few times actually. It’s been a good long while now since I’ve gone that far, but it’s come close. But once upon a time this has happened!”

ginger: a new feature you wish tumblr could have?

“To Become A Functioning Website.”

blueberry lemon: favorite blogs?

“Now that’s just kissing and telling...” (( I’d also have to tag and dont wanna spam. ))

almond: favorite mean girls quote?

“Oddly specific, but... Variations of ‘One time she punched me in the face. It was awesome.’. “

butterscotch: what color are your nails right now?

“Uh, natural and colorless? I’ve not painted my nails in a while.”

cinnamon: have you ever been confessed to?

“I have yes.”

blue moon: have you ever had a crush on someone?

“Again, yes. We’re not gonna go into this can of worms.”

cappuccino crunch: do you take naps?

“Sometimes. There comes the occasion when one does get exhausted and needs a damn nap.”

mint: the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?

“Get way too flustered and accidentally admit I liked someone.”

brownie batter: do you like sushi?

“Completely! You say we’re going to get Sushi and you have my full attention.”

key lime: where do you want to be right now?

“Home unfortunately.”

red velvet: do you wear prescription glasses?

“Nope! I’m thankful for that, but one day I have no doubt that’s going to change.”

green tea: favorite flavors of ice cream?

“Mochi green tea, chocolate chip mint, red bean, Strawberry shortcake... Gelato raspberry or orange cream.”

#About Yang #Headcanon #(( THERE I DID IT. ALL THE ICE CREAMS ))#(( this was exhausting on the hands and brain i died. ))#(( but also did my best ))

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