#I'M SO SORRY THIS ONE TOOK SIX YEARS (or just over three weeks) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetlittlegingy · 2 years

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Can't Breath Whenever You're Gone

✦ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Father Figure Jake x Single!Mom

✦Word Count: 5.2 k

✦Warnings: Ansty, Fluff, slight smut (Jake calls himself daddy once), pregnancy, deployment, sad Maty

✦A/n: I have tried to post this like 8 times, it better work. I'm sorry for the wait guys, I hope you like it! Lots of love - G

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

The low ache in your back had become a constant; leaning down to pick up the second batch of laundry, the six-month belly just out of the way. Rising back up, one arm carrying the laundry, the other caressing your more than noticeable bump.

You feel a sharp kick, pressing your palm back into the spot, you can feel Little Miss move, pressing farther into your hand. A laugh falls from your lips, she wasn’t even here yet and she was stubborn just like her father.

The pregnancy came as a surprise, though you weren’t trying to avoid pregnancy, it still was a shock when you found out. The four pregnancy tests you’d taken, after being nauseous every morning for a week, proved that your family was about to grow by one.

The shock of it all, couldn’t stop the nerves from kicking in.

Your pregnancy with Mathew hadn’t been easy. Your nausea lasting the whole 40 weeks, making it hard for you to maintain a healthy weight. You ended up getting weekly IVs from the hospital and being up on two different nausea medications.

In the first trimester, this time nausea hit you hard and at all times of the day, the bathroom had become a second home, and Jake could barely handle it. Constantly at your side, holding your hair or rubbing your back. Mathew had been ecstatic when he found out, though the now six-and-a-half-year-old, had a hard time seeing you so sick.

Even having a conversation with your belly, telling the baby that they needed to be nice to you.

That was before you found out that you were having a girl, and thankfully the nausea had calmed after your fourteen-week mark, making your days actually enjoyable.

You’d been able to find out the sex of your baby just before Jake deployed when you were twenty weeks, and you’d both been thankful he could be with you in person to hear.

He’d been overjoyed when you the doctor told you. The smile never left his face on the drive home. Telling you, now that you had one of each, the next one could be a surprise.

You’d smacked him and told him, you wanted to get through this one before even thinking about another. Jake had only given you a teasing smile and kissed your hand, resting it in his lap for the drive home.

That was a month ago now, and all three of you were missing him terribly. Right after you’d found out you were pregnant; Jake had taken to talking to your stomach nightly. You’d told him that the peanut was too small, but he hadn’t cared. Holding nightly conversations with them, ranging from stories about flying, to what had happened during his day.

You’re sure that Little Miss had gotten used to her daddy’s voice, because now without his nightly talks, she has taken to becoming very active during the night. Mathew was having quite the time with Jake being gone as well. The first week he had cried every night and though his tears had slowed, the month had been wearing on the little guy.

Thankfully school kept his mind busy during the day, and Lacey had promised to call if he got upset during the day. Summer vacation was just around the corner for Maty and though he loved second grade, he was so excited about the year ahead. He was going full-time on base and Auntie Lacey, Bob’s wife, would be his teacher for third grade.

You were thankful for the relationship the two of you had developed over the last 2 years, she’d become one of your closest friends and was always there to help with Mathew.

When she found out that you were expecting and that the boys were getting deployed, she took up a permeant residence in your home. Taking over pick up and drop off completely, saying that your house was on her way to school anyway.

Your house was in fact a good bit out of her way, but you weren’t about to argue with the woman. Bob might have been quiet and shy in public, but his sweet, loving teacher of a wife, was anything but.

Lacey, like her third graders, was an endless ball of energy. She was the most positive person you’d ever met and extremely organized. But when she decided that something was going to happen, then it was happening. Her stubbornness rivaled that of Jakes. A fact that had you cackling, when the two of them bickered.

Placing the laundry away, you head back into the kitchen, looking for something to snack on before you start on dinner. Music streams out of the speaker on the counter, a playlist that you’d made after Jake threw you into the world that is 90’s country, on a trip to Texas. You’d fallen in love with the music, on a night out and always listened to it when Jake was gone.

You hum along to the beat of Brooks and Dunn, swaying your hips along to the music, hand resting on your bump. Little Miss takes to rolling around, clearly enjoying the music.

“You like that one sweetpea?” The song changes and she rolls again. “Your daddy’s gonna be pleased with your taste in music.”

You grab the strawberries out of the fridge, singing along to the music. Your mind wandering, sure that Jake and your little girl would have the exact relationship stated in the song.

“When she was three years old on her daddy's knee, he said you can be anything you want to be. She's a wild one, runnin' free.—”

The ringing of your phone cuts off your singing, Jake’s ringtone cutting through, and has you hurrying to pick it up. He rarely got to call you, the carrier was continuously going in and out of service, making it hard to talk.

You pick up the phone, lowering the volume of the music.

“Baby?”

“Hi, darlin’.” The sound of Jake's voice has you crying, your hormones working against you. The gasp that leaves your lips, alerts Jake of your crying.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Your hand comes up, brushing the tears from your eyes, doing your best to stop them.

“It’s just my hormones Jakey.” You pause, trying to settle the quiver in your voice. “We just miss you.”

A sad laugh falls from your lips, wedging the phone between your shoulder and ear, you move to sit down. Both of your hands rubbing your swollen bump, calming yourself and Little Miss. She’d noticed you crying, when you were slightly gasping for breath, no doubt disturbing her.

“I know sweets, I’ll be home soon.”

You knew that he couldn’t give you a return date, the both of you silently hoping that it would be before your due date. While it was months away, this last month had gone by fast, and though you hadn’t told Jake, you were worried.

“How is everything? How are my babies?” His voice sounds tired, and you wonder how long it’s been since he’d slept properly.

He’d told you before, that sleeping on the carrier calmed him, and being able to do what he loved made the uncomfortable bed worth it. Though something had changed, shortly after Mathew had started calling Jake daddy, deployments started causing Jake more stress than joy.

He'd told you that he missed the both of you. Missed seeing you and Maty every day, but you could tell that there was more behind it. You hadn’t wanted to push him, but you worried and with you pregnant, the worrying had increased ten-fold.

You relay what had been going on in the last couple of days, and Jake silently listens. Humming occasionally, just happy to hear your voice and feel closer to you.

“She’s been moving around a lot more this last week and I’ve blown up like a balloon.” You’d loved that you could carry your angels, but without Jake here to love on you, your self-esteem had plummeted.

“I look like a damn whale Jake.” The topic causes another onset of tears to converge in your waterline. “And I can’t stop crying.”

“Oh baby, no you are so fucking gorgeous.”

“You can’t even see me, Jacob!” You didn’t mean to snap at him, and before you can apologize, Jake is laughing at you.

“Don’t need to see you, to know how gorgeous you look.” Pure love in his voice and has your tears drying up quickly.

“How did I get so lucky with you Mr. Seresin?” His laugh breaks through the phone, loud enough that it echoes in your quiet living room.

“I’m just that good Mrs. Seresin.”

Though you hadn’t tied the knot yet, the title became one used often. The engagement ring resting on your hand catches the afternoon sunlight and a soft smile graces your lips. “I love you.” The hand creasing your belly receives a sudden push and you watch as Little Miss turns, her outline faint through your tank top.

“I love you too darlin’.” You can hear the smile in his voice and decide to put Jake on speaker. Bringing the phone to your belly, you feel her move towards the sound as Jake tells you about his day.

“Darling, I think that someone is feeling left out of the conversation. I’ve got you resting on the belly and Little Miss is going crazy for her daddy.”

You hear the broken laugh crack through the phone and then you hear a soft sniffle.

“Hi baby girl, daddy misses you and your bubba so much.”

“Oh baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

You hadn’t even thought about how telling Jake that the babies missed him, would make him feel. Though he was soft and sweet in front of you, in comparison to how he was with others, it was a rare sight to see Jake cry.

“No sweetheart, I just hate not being there. She’s never gonna be this little again, and Maty is going to third grade. I feel like I’m missing everything.” The shutter that echoes through the phone, has tears welling up in your eyes.

“I just never realized that it would hurt this much.”

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your own tears not wanting Jake to feel even worse, and eventually, you both calm down.

Jake talks to your belly; you sit listening and enjoying the sound of his voice. If you close your eyes, it almost feels like he’s back home with you. Though your conversation is cut short, when you hear Bradley over the phone. Muffled voices ring over the phone, grunting and you swear you hear someone yell ouch, before Bradley’s voice yells out your name.

“Hi B, how are you?” You can’t help the laugh that breaks from you when you hear, Bradley telling Jake that he has to share. That he needed to check on his little sister and Jake could get over it. That thought is followed by the sound of a smack and Bradley whining over the phone.

“He’s mean with he’s not with you, Y/n. Control your husband.”

“He’s not my husband yet B.” You’re laughing at their antics, not having laughed this much since they left.

“No, he’s yours Y/n. No givebacks, his receipt clearly states non-returnable.”

The phone once again is dropped, and then you hear a door slammed. You were happy that they had each other, and knowing that they were together lessened your anxiety. They might fight like siblings, but they’d developed an unbreakable bond over the years.

It’s Jake's voice that comes across the phone once again, “I’ve gotta go, baby.”

The both of you are quiet for a moment longer, the lightheartedness of Bradley showing up suddenly gone.

“I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again sweetheart.”

Your heart slightly cracks, and the reality of your current situation sets in. Jake was in the middle of the ocean and not just for drills, but for an actual mission that could end horribly.

“I know.” You hate the way your voice cracks, hate that you are inevitably making Jake feel worse.

“Given Mathew a kiss for me Sweets.”

You hum quietly, too afraid to speak knowing that your voice would break. You’re both waiting, making the call last as long as possible, but Jake eventually breaks the peaceful silence.

“I love you, Sweets.”

“I love you too, Jacob.” The tears from your waterline fall, and you don’t bother to stop the sniffle that leaves you.

“You’ve gotta hang up baby, or we’ll never get off.”

Your heads nodding, even though Jake can’t see it, hating that he always made you hang up. It’d become a thing when you’d first became friends and now it was natural.

“You come home to us Jacob Grant Seresin.”

Your finger hits the end button before Jake has the chance to reply. Slowly bringing the phone down to sit in your lap, you can’t stop the tears as they stream down your face. It was never easy being away from Jake, but right now, at this moment you couldn’t remember a time when your heart hurt worse.

Sobs rack through your body, your hands faintly shaking as you lay down on the couch. Clutching the decorative pillow to your chest with one hand, your other rubs comforting circles onto your swollen belly.

…

You hadn’t realized you’d fell asleep until you hear the front door opening. Your eyes aching, the tears you’d shed emotionally draining you, and you wanted nothing more than to go to sleep for the night. Though the padding sound of small feet, has you rubbing your eyes trying to hide how much you’d been crying.

“Mommy!”

Mathew rushes towards you, a smile on his face as he goes straight to your belly. Lacey’s figure follows behind him, and you give her a warm smile.

“How was school?” You ask the both of them, though Maty is too busy talking quietly to your stomach. Rubbing in the place where his sister had just kicked, and places a soft kiss on the spot, before continuing to tell her about his day.

“It was good, happy that it’s the weekend though. Plus, Bobby called me at lunch, so thank was nice.” The smile that graces her face as she mentions Robert, has you smiling at the girl. The sight of her quietly spinning the wedding band on her finger, makes you feel not so lonely.

“Jake called today too.”

The mention of his name has Mathew’s attention instantly, no longer interested in telling Little Miss about his day.

“Daddy called?”

His voice is so hopeful, and you feel horrible that he wasn’t home, causing him to miss the chance to talk to Jake. They had only been able to talk once while Jake had been gone, and you could tell that it upset the both of them. Their schedule never seemed to match up, or the boat was just out of service. The one call had been a happy coincidence, having kept Mathew home from school after being up all night.

Which had been a problem in itself.

Mathew’s nightmares had slowed down massively since you’d gotten together with Jake, he’d filled a void that Mathew had, and now with him gone, it was like the void had reappeared.

You’d given up the idea of Mathew sleeping in his room, after the first week and brought him into bed with you. The both of you slept better having the other close, and the nightmares had slowed, though not gone away.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” A sad smile graces your face when you see how Mathew’s face drops. “Daddy said to tell you that he loves you so much though, and that he will be home soon.”

Mathew's faces drops, tucking himself into your belly and gives you a soft nod. Your hand combs through his hair, comforting him as much as possible. The tears that you feel wetting your shirt, have you pulling him up into your lap.

You see Lacey give you a sad smile, as she points to the door and tells you to call her later. Your mouth a thank you, while rocking Mathew back and forth. His tears eventually slow and turn into hiccupping sounds. He pulls away from your chest, a tear-stained face and you almost start crying again.

You give him a reassuring smile, hand brushing through his hair, and plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Daddy will be home soon, I promise buddy.”

“He’s saving people, right momma?”

“Yeah baby.”

This time it’s you that’s pulling him into your chest, doing your best not to cry in front of him. Tucking your head down to rest on top of his head, rocking the both of you to stop the tears.

The three of you had went to bed early that night, watching Toy Story in bed, and having family cuddles. You wrapped in one of Jake’s shirts and boxers, while Mathew clung to the blue plane blanket from Jake. His steady breathing calms you and lulls you into your own deep sleep.

…

One Month Later

You had officially reached 7 months and Mathew was starting his first week of summer vacation. May had flown by and you couldn’t believe that summer had finally started. Though California was warm year-round, the rising heat had been hell. You couldn’t seem to get cool, and your swollen stomach was always adorned in a sun dress.

Jake was still deployed, though Penny had mentioned that there was a possibility that they were coming home soon. Apparently, Mav had slipped up while talking to her, and she couldn’t keep it from you. She’d sworn you to secretly, meaning you couldn’t tell Lacey or Mathew, though you wouldn’t want to tell Mathew just yet. You were careful what you mentioned about the deployment to Maty, he and Jake were able to talk a few times within the last month, but he was still sensitive to the topic of Jake coming home.

You had your 7-month checkup today and Lacey was going to be picking the pair of you up, to take you. Walking from your shared bedroom, you call out from Mathew, wanting to make sure that he was at least somewhat matching.

He’d taken to picking out his clothes, stating that he was a big boy now and in charge of taking care of the house. A thought Jake had put into his head during their last conversation. Now that he was a big boy, that meant he could pick out his own clothes.

Peaking into his bedroom, you see him pulling a navy shirt over his head, happily surprised that the shirt parried well with his khaki shorts.

“You ready bubba? Auntie Lacey will be here soon.”

The turn of his little body towards you, has a look of concern painting your face as you see the pout marring Mathew's own.

“I can’t find my glasses momma, the ones like daddy’s.” His tone was clearly distressed and missing the sunglasses that matched Jake's own pair.

“Did you look on the counter sweetheart, I saw them there last night.”

A small shake of the head is all he replies before his legs are carrying him to the kitchen. Following behind him, much slower, you hear an “aha!” ring out that causes you to laugh. Coming to rest behind him, you gently kiss his head, when a knock sounds from your door. You hear the door open, and Lacey’s voice sounds out.

“Hellooooo, anybody home.”

“In the kitchen Lace.” Her figure rounds the corner of the kitchen and Mathew is hugging her instantly.

“How is my favorite nephew?”

A giggle erupts from Mathew’s chest and Lacey gives him a tight squeeze. “I’m your only nephew Auntie.”

She gives him a glance, acting as though she’s offended. “That may be so Mr. Mathew, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be my favorite as well.”

Her hands drift to his waist, picking him up and then promptly tickling him. The both of them giggling, as you watch on with a fond smile. Lacey’s presence in your life, especially in the last two months, was a true gift and one that you could never truly repay. Though you knew that when she got pregnant, you would be at her side, just like she was for you.

Reaching for your purse, you check the time and see that its 12:20 and your appointment starts at 1 on the dot.

“Come on you two, we’ve got an appointment to get to.”

Lacey ushers you in front of her, still carrying Mathew out to her car, and buckling him into the booster seat that she’d bought for him.

“We get to go see sissy today, right momma.”

Looking back at Maty, the biggest smile rests on his face. You’d told him at the being of the week, you’d had an ultrasound and that he could come into the appointment and see his sister with you.

“Yes, sweetie.” You give him a smile, before buckling up, as Lacey pulls from your driveway.

The car ride is short and filled with music, enjoying the breeze of the day. The drive to the clinic doesn’t take long and before you know it, you’re making your way in, ten minutes before your appointment.

Going to the front desk you give them your name, while Mathew holds your hand silently observing. The buzzing of Lacey’s phone has her apologizing before she heads outside to answer the call. You think nothing of her excusing herself, thinking that she’s only left in consideration of the other patients.

Your name is called and though Lacey isn’t back inside yet, you and Mathew head back with the nurse. She takes your vitals and asks you to lay on the table, handing you a blanket to rest over your lap. You mention that Lacey had to step outside, and the nurse tells you that she will bring her back when she comes back into the office. She gives you and Mathew a smile before she leaves the room.

Doctor Jones is punctual as always and greets the both of you happily, asking you to raise your dress so that she can start. The ultrasound goes well, Doctor Jones answered each question that Mathew had and stated Little Miss is doing wonderful.

“She’s measuring just ahead of schedule, looking to be about 30 weeks, so 2 weeks ahead. We will keep an eye on it, but as of today, I think we can expect her around mid-August.” Her eyes leave yours to look back at Mathew, “Just before school starts buddy!”

His eyes light up in excitement, “Time for daddy to be home too!”

Doctor Jones looks back to you, both of your smiles faltering slightly.

“Yes, baby. Daddy’s got lots of time to get home.”

The doctor goes over a few things to watch out for, before sending you on your way. The sonogram image of Little Miss clutched in Mathew's hands excited to show Lacey. The nurse leads you back out into the main office, and Lacey is sitting waiting for the both of you. Her smile is massive and more than excited to see the image Mathew holds up in front of her face.

Your hand rests on your belly, and a few sharp kicks have you sucking in a breath, ready to get in the car to sit down for a bit.

“Are we ready to head out?” Lacey is rising to meet you, holding Maty’s hand to walk across the parking lot and the other resting on the small of your back. You give her a gracious smile, muttering a small yes.

The drive home is quick, your body is already tired from the day, and the small nap you had taken while driving is suddenly interrupted.

“Daddy!”

Your eyes shoot open, and there in your front yard are Jake and Robert waiting. Mathew is flying out of the car as soon as Lacey is parked, and you can’t stop the tears from falling as you look over at Lacey speechless.

“Did you know?”

“You think I would have left that appointment, if the phone call hadn’t been important.” The teasing smile she gives you, has you laughing through the tears. Giving her a hand a squeeze, a silent thank you, before opening the car door. The door stops before you can get it fully open, your eyes meeting a pair of black boots.

Following the uniform up, your eyes finally settle on Jake.

Your Jake, with Mathew resting on his hip. The onset of tears is never ending, as sobs uncontrollably fall from your lips.

Jake falls to his knees, setting Mathew on the ground and telling him to go see Uncle Bob, his hands reach out brushing the tears from your cheeks.

“Hi Sweets.”

Your figure moves for him, arms wrapping around his neck as you sob into his chest. He mutters sweet nothings into your hair, brushing his hand up and down your spine. The other one falls to rest on your belly.

“Your home? You’re really here?” Your voice sounds so small and Jake's heart sightly aches at your question.

“I’m home baby. Not leaving you again Sweets.”

You miss the promise in his voice, only hearing his confirmation that he was here, with you and your babies finally. Your tear-stained face pulls back from Jake's chest and your hands are pulling his face down to yours instantly.

Lips meeting, slotting perfectly together after 8 long weeks apart. The tears coating your cheeks are no longer yours alone, pulling back you see tears lining Jake’s eyes. The smile he gives you, has you tugging him back down to your lips. His lips separate from your own lips; to your cheeks and jawline, peppering your face with kisses. Then moves down to your swollen bump and places a gentle kiss upon it as well.

You look up and see Lacey’s tear-stained face, Robert cradling her in his arms. The both of them enjoying the moment, as a small body comes tumbling back into Jake. His face moves from your bump, and he grabs Mathew tickling him, laughter falling from all three of your lips.

“Daddy, we saw sissy today!”

The photo Mathew still hadn’t let go is shoved at Jake, a large smile breaking onto his face as he grasps the sonogram. His hand moves to brush through Maty’s hair, bringing the little boy back into his chest, as he stares at the picture. His eyes move from the image, to your bump, and back to the image.

Jake brushes a kiss against Mathew’s head, then goes to stand up. His hand reaching out for you.

“Coming on darlin’, let’s get you three inside.”

His arms wrap around your waist and for a moment you fear that this is all a dream, that soon you’ll wake up in Lacey’s car, utterly alone.

You feel the hand on your waist give you a squeeze, your eyes meeting Jake's. Your foreheads rest against each other before a quick kiss is exchanged and you’re heading into the house.

Robert and Lacey stayed for dinner that night, the five of you deciding to order in pizza instead of trying to cook. You and Lacey worked in tandem cleaning up the kitchen, as the guys took Mathew out back to play.

He’d been so patient during dinner, eating a slice of pizza, then begged Jake and Robert to play. The guys had informed you that Mav and Penny were having a BBQ tomorrow night, celebrating a successful mission and that everyone was required to come.

You called Penny just after dinner, asking what she needed you to bring tomorrow, though she adamantly said you weren’t supposed to bring anything. After going back and forth, your sister eventually caved and told you to let Mathew pick out a dessert from the store. You complied and let Jake know that the three of you would need to stop by the store tomorrow, before going over.

Jake had walked Bob and Lacey to the door, telling them thanks for coming over, as well as thanking Lacey profusely for helping you while he was gone. The woman just patted him on the back, with a shrug of her shoulders, and stated that’s what family does. Giving her a nod, and then a wave to them both, he headed back in to find you leaning over the kitchen counter.

Sneaking up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to settle just under your bump. With a lift of his hands, a moan left your lips, and you were settling back into his body. Your head leaned back, resting on his shoulders as the tension in your lower back dissipated.

“So good.”

A hum leaves his lips in acknowledgment of you before his lips meet the side of your neck. He traces a line of hot open mouth kisses along your neck, landing on the spot between your collarbone and neck. Sucking softly, on a mission to mark you after months away.

The haze in your mind is overwhelming as you push back against Jake, the feeling of his hardened length pressing into your lower back. You’d missed him so much and now with his hands on you, you felt like you could combust.

“Jake, what about Mathew?” You didn’t want him to stop, but you’d rather get Maty to bed before he saw just how his sissy was made.

Jake places one final kiss on your neck, before gently lowering your bump again, the weight of it settling in your back.

“I’ll go put him to bed, missed our nighttime routine, and you go get ready for bed.” You give him a questioning glance, one eyebrow-raising.

“Bed?” Your tone is slightly whiny and causes Jake to laugh. Turning your body to face him, he gives you a final kiss that has your toes curling.

“Bed darlin’,” His hand creeping up the inside of your thigh, underneath the sun dress, fingers grazing your clothed cunt. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you Sweets.” His fingers tease you, slip under your panties to run along your slit. Your legs tremble, hand clinging to his wrist, afraid that he’s going to pull away.

Jake smirks at you, so wound-up for him and he’d just barely touched you. The swirl of his finger on your clit has your head dropping back. He loved that you were always so needy for him, but you’d become exceptionally horny while pregnant. The pressure of his fingers leaves your clit, and a whine falls from your chest. Though the sound abruptly turns into a moan, when he sinks the digits into your heat.

“Jakey, —”

“I know baby. Such a good girl, fucking yourself on my fingers.”

His tone is condescending as he watches you push down into his hand. Though before you get anywhere, his fingers are gone and your eyes snap open. Watching as Jake licks your slick from the two fingers, pulling you in for a kiss that has you moaning. The tangy taste coating your tongue and making your arousal even more evident between your thighs.

The tap on your ass, has you pulling away. Your eyes blown out and filled with pure need, as you look at Jake.

“You’re not gonna be sleeping tonight, Sweets. Daddy has lots of time to make up for.”

#better man universe #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman #gingy writes #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x y/n #hangman imagine #jake seresin top gun #jake seresin angst

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 10 months

Note

Hii!! Thank you for writing my shy teen writer request! I wanted to ask for a sequel for that fic, where there was an accident which managed to send the characters back in their world. The reader thought that the bsd cast were back to normal (non self aware) but they were wrong. After that happened the bsd cast tried to open the portal again but it took a few years for the portal to open again. When they were able to go back to the real world the reader was already 17 years old (14 when they 1st met) and they had published more books throughout the years. Some of them became a best seller and reader was finally known as a professional writer at the young age of 17. Now their parents want them back for the money and tries to guilt trip them. Reader leaves some habits of the bsd casts in their books like an Easter egg. They also were able to become more open with people and make friends. I'm just wondering how the bsd characters would be proud of the reader lmao

Srry if it's too long and ty for writing my request, I love your fics! ❤️❤️

Hello! I am so glad, that you liked, how I do your request.

Here you go, second part. I hope, you like it. Hope, you are having a great day!

Reunion

Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Characters x Teen! Reader

Description: Because of an accident, BSD gang is back to their world. You are sure, that they have lost their self-awareness. You have to move on.

Three years later, your family is finally back to you.

Hurt/Comfort. Reader, miss BSD gang. Reader, become a writer.

Sequel to Your dream matters

Warning: Elements of angst. Gold diggers for Biological Parents. OOC. English is my second language.

___________

You don't know, what happened. One moment you were having fun with your new family. Celebrating the six-month anniversary of their arrival and your adoption. Celebrating your achievements.

The next moment, the bright light fills the room.

When it fades, your family were gone.

You were searching for them. You called, you cried.

But no one came.

When you check the BSD Mayoi app, you saw, that they were back in the app.

But why they aren't coming back?

Did they lose the self-awareness?

That night, you cried as never before.

You begged them to come back. You begged them not to leave you.

For the next few days, you feel terrible. Thankfully, Alcott and Fitzgerald made sure, that your biological family will never get custody over you again. Besides, thanks to Fitzgerald, you won't have money problems. And that your parents will never touch that money.

You knew, that you can't spend the rest of your life crying about your friends. You need to move forward.

After one week of crying, you open your laptop and start writing.

To honor them. To honor their love. To honor their belief in you, you will be a writer.

___________

In the BSD world, your family were panicking. The portal glitches and send them back there. And now it can't be turned on. Worse of all, they lost their access to your phone and app. They can't even leave a message for you.

But they can hear you...

Your tears, your pleas.

"G-guys? A-are still there? P-please, answer."

"Work! Start working, you damn portal!" Poe hits portal with his first. Nothing.

"D-did you lost it? H-have you lost self-awarness?"

"No! [Y/N] WE ARE STILL THERE!" Oda was screaming, hoping, that you will hear them.

"Please... Just one message... Guys..."

Fyodor was nervous. He tried to hack the app again. So they can leave a message for you.

Nothing.

They were separated from you.

The work on trying to find the way to you start all over again.

_________________

Three years later

________________

"So, when will the new book came out?" asked Mary, looking at you with anticipation. "And what the book will be about?"

You chuckled and answer.

"Can't tell. You know pretty well, that I don't like giving spoilers for my books. Even to a friend. Sorry."

Mary pouts. Her brother, Arnold, rolled his eyes and playfully solve her.

"Told you, that [Y/N] won't answer. They value their work and won't spoil it to others."

Mary glared at her brother, but quickly look back at you.

"Fine, keep your secrets. But, I hope, that the detective who liked adding jam to grape pie will be in the book. Or writer, who loves raccoons. Right, Arnold?"

Arnold nodded.

"Yea. But I also would like to see a thief, who liked to hum old songs, and a postman, who cared about orphans. Anyway, want to hang out today?"

Your smile faded for one second, but you quickly compose yourself.

"Sorry, guys, but not today. Today I will be busy."

Siblings nodded in understanding. You are a professional writer, you must be busy with writing a new book.

You say goodbye to your friends and start walking home.

They didn't know, that you won't be busy with writing.

____________

You have changed for the last few years.

You became seventeen.

You were no longer shy, you had friends. You start going out with them. Not only that, but you could stand for yourself.

And you have become a writer.

Some of your books became bestsellers. And all of your books had good reviews and people liked them.

You became a known writer in seventeen.

Life was quite good.

But today you won't do any writing or fan meeting.

Today you had a special day.

That day, three years ago, your family got back to their world and loose self-awareness.

You moved forward. But you still missed them.

After they got back, you stopped watching and reading BSD. You don't want to see your family been hurt. You didn't read any spoilers. They weren't characters for you anymore. For you, they will always be your family.

You didn't delete BSD Mayoi. It serves as a reminder of your family.

Your books were a way to honor them. You add BSD Cast's habits to your characters.

For Ranpo it was a detective who liked adding jam to grape pie.

For Poe, it was writer, who loves raccoons.

For Fyodor, it was thief, who liked to hum old songs.

For Oda, it was a postman, who cared about orphans.

And so much more.

You miss them. Today you will have a small dinner to honor your lost family. You were preparing for that dinner for the last week.

_______________

Meanwhile, in BSD world

________________

Three years.

It takes them three years to open the portal again.

Tonight, they will be back to you.

BSD cast were ecstatic. They can't wait to return to you. Their Precious Guiding Light. Their child, siblings, grandchild.

The Cast gather in a Meeting Room. Fyodor Dostoevsky, finally hacks the app and get access to your phone.

They want to see how much has happened while they were away.

They found an interview with you. About been a young writer.

They were so proud of you.

Poe, who was mentoring you three years ago, had tears in his eyes. You achieved your dream.

Oda also has tears in his eyes. He was so glad, that you manage to prove others wrong.

Fyodor, while he wasn't crying, were extremely proud of you.

All of them were proud of you.

They can't wait to tell you about that in person.

____________

You finally get home. And you didn't like, who you saw on the doorstep.

You glare through the window at two people who were standing at your doorstep. Your biological parents. You can hear them talk. Once again, they were talking about getting a custody over you again.

They wanted to have an access to money, that Fitzgerald has left. And to the money you get from your books.

"[Y/N], dear, we have missed you! Please, let us inside. Let's talk!"

"[Y/N], stop running! We want to have our baby back!"

"[Y/N], you are our flesh and blood, we deserve your gratitude!"

"[Y/N], we are your parents! These people, who took you away from us, don't care about you! Where are they now? Where were they for the last three years?!"

You walked away from the window. You called the police. They took your parents away for been on your private property without permission.

You were left alone with your thoughts. Their words hurt. You tried to hold back tears. You need to prepare dinner for tonight.

____________

In the evening, you set up a table in the dining room.

Your family favorite food. You were careful with it, it still was packed. There was nothing, that will spoil soon. Tomorrow you will treat your friends. But right now, it is dinner to honor your lost family.

You place your phone on the table and open BSD Mayoi app. You start talking.

"It's been three years, right? O wish you were there. I miss you all so much... What?"

And, once again, the bright light fills the room. The same light, that shined three and the half years ago, when BSD cast appeared in your room.

________

They were looking at you. You were looking at them.

All of you were silent. You can't believe it.

And, once again, like three and the half years ago, Ranpo walked forward and smiled.

"Hello, Guiding Light, nice to see you face to face-e-e"

You crashed him in a hug. You were crying. Because of happiness.

"You... I missed you all do much... Family, my family... You are here again. You won't disappear again, right?"

Ranpo, with tears in his eyes, whispered.

"No, [Y/N], we won't. This time, we are here to stay."

__________

The next hour was full of tears and hugs. They didn't let you be alone for one second. After you finished with one hug, you were quickly pulled into another. After all of you were 'calm', at some extent, Oda place his hand on your shoulders.

"[Y/N], there are something important we must tell you. We are so proud of you, our little writer."

"Odasaku is right, We are so proud of you!" grinned Dazai.

"You manage to capture my intelligence in this character. I am so proud to be an inspiration for him" smile Ranpo, petting your head.

"I am glad, that my lessons come in handy. I am proud of been your teacher" Poe's voice was soft.

"Little Bird, you rocks. I am proud, that you make your dream come true" Nikolai's eyes shined with pride

"I am proud of your success, [Y/N]" Fyodor squeezed your hand.

One by one, your family told you, how proud they were.

You feel, like you were in heaven.

The life was good before. Now it was perfect.

You were a writer. Your dream come true.

You became confident.

You had friends.

And, most importantly, you had your family back.

_________

Bonus.

"Dad Fitzgerald, Brother Ranpo, Uncle Ango, how came that my bio parents, has lost everything and now charged with stealing and fraud?"

"Um... We don't know, right, Fitzgerald?"

"Yes, Ango, we don't know... Ranpo?"

"No, we don't. Hey, [Y/N], want to play Cluedo?"

"... You know, what, fine. I won't question that. Get the game, Ranpo"

#self-awareau #self-awarebsd #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #bsd anime #platonic

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dameronology · 1 year

Text

it's cold outside (natasha romanoff)

for @wokeupinawalnut - for the fic giveaway organised by @startrekkingaroundasgard. i apologise for how late this is, but i hope you enjoy & happy holidays🥰

summary: coming home to you is always natasha's favourite thing

Natasha Romanoff hadn't expected your shared apartment to be so fucking arctic when she came home.

New York was cold at the best of times but it seemed bitingly so when the Quintjet came in to land early that morning. It was too cold even for snow and that just felt like insult to injury. Still though, it was hard for Natasha to feel sad about the weather, knowing that this mission was going to be the team's last before their Christmas break. The idea of getting home, switching off her phone and existing just in the plains of your apartment had been the only thing getting her through. So, after exchanging goodbyes with the rest of the Avengers, Nat hung up her uniform and got into a taxi.

Naturally, every would reunite on the day of Christmas at Tony Stark's insistence, but until then, they'd be off to their own homes. Steve and Bucky back to Brooklyn, Clint back to the farm, Thor back to New Asgard and Tony back to wherever it was that Morgan demanded. The journey for Nat wasn't very long - just over the bridge to your loft in Williamsburg. She'd lived there for the better part of three years now, when she'd come to stay the night a few weeks into your relationship and just never left.

The cold air hit her like a knife (and it was safe to say that Natasha might be the only person here who would know that feeling with accuracy). Even though it was early in the morning - just gone 7AM - you were passed out on the couch, a duvet bundled around you and several blankets. The TV was still on Netflix, the classic are you still watching? messaged displayed on the screen. With that, Nat could easily deduce that you'd probably fallen asleep watching it last night.

"Hey," she leant down beside you, gently brushing a hand over your face. A nice, warm hand against your freezing skin. "Hey. I'm back."

You peeled open one eye, a grin spreading across your tired face. "Nat, hey."

"Why's it so cold in here?" she asked.

"The heating broke," you grumbled. "I called the landlord last night but he's gone back to Arizona for Christmas. We still have hot water so that's...something."

"That explains it," she rolled her eyes. "You're freezing-"

"- Nat," you sat up, duvet falling off your shoulders. "You can turn off mum mode, okay? I know you've just spent a week straight with the guys but I am not stupid like them."

Natasha gave you a smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're right. Sorry."

"How was the mission?"

"Boring," she took a seat on the sofa beside you, laying her legs over yours. "We went in, got the intel we needed, came home. Textbook, really."

"But did you look good doing it?"

"Of course I did," she grinned. Natasha gave your leg a squeeze before standing up and sticking out her hand, head nodding towards the bathroom. "C'mon, a warm shower will help."

Begrudgingly rolling out of your blanket palace, you followed your girlfriend through the apartment and to the bathroom. If you hadn't missed her so much, you wouldn't have moved come hell or high water. Still though, a warm shower didn't seem like the worst idea. Natasha certainly wanted one after days of trekking through Siberia and honestly, she just wanted to hold you close. Seven days apart wasn't even the longest she'd gone without seeing you.

You stood there like a lemon with ease as she did most the work - just bubbles and soft kisses from Natasha.

The run from the shower to the bedroom was jarring. Clothes flew everywhere as you both ripped apart the wardrobe in an attempt to find the warmest clothes - you were more successful in your attempt, finding some thermal bottoms and a thick hoodie. Six pairs of fluffy socks later, you were content.

"Those are mine," Natasha scowled. "I was looking for those-"

"- they were in my side of the wardrobe," you replied, holding up your hands in defence. "Finders, losers, Nat."

"That's not fair! Those are my special warm socks!"

"Now they're my special warm socks."

Before you could even finish your sentence, Natasha had crossed the room and thrown you onto the bed. She pinned your arms above your head, hands wrapped around your wrists and hair dripping little cold drops of water onto you. You let out a shriek as she did, trying to wriggle free.

"Say your sorry!" she demanded. There was no point in arguing, or trying to wriggle your way out of the grip of a highly trained assassin. She was freakishly strong.

"No!"

"Say. Your. Sorry!"

You tried to fight back a laugh, gaze avoiding Natasha's. "No."

"You're so mean," she pouted. Still, she leant down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against you.

Natasha rolled off the bed, once again signalling for you to follow after her. She made her way over to the kitchen, hands moving in autopilot to turn on the kettle and pull things out the cabinets.

"Shouldn't I be the one making you breakfast?" you asked. "You just came from a week long mission-"

"- shuddup and sit down," she said. "You're colder than me. Wrap up and I'll be there in two minutes."

Smiling to yourself, you returned to the sofa. It was perfectly indented from where you'd spent the last two days sat there, but you moved some cushions aside to make room for Natasha. As promised, two minutes later she returned with two mugs of coffee and a bagel for you. She'd known since the day you met how you took your coffee; she was trained to be observant but in some way, knowing the intricate details of your life was her love language. There were very few things she didn't know.

Natasha pressed a kiss to your temple, pulling the duvet over herself as she snuggled up next to you. She was perpetually warm - a curse in the summer but a blessing during times like this. You shuffled closer, leaning your head on her shoulder.

"You good there?" she asked.

"Yeah," you smiled. "Just glad you're home."

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers #marvel fluff #avengers fluff

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taylorsv3rsion13 · 11 months

Text

we never go out of style || c.f.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

A/N : this chapter even though it's the episode where conrad finds his mom w cancer, it's not gonna be in this chapter because i have other plans :) ALSO chapters will come out as quick as they can. i have been busy recently and will be busy for the next couple of weeks, though, i’ll try squeezing in some writing time.

words : 1.9k

synopsis : things were always rocky for conrad and you. after the whole break up, will everything be the same the year later? or will it all turn to shit.

Growing up pin Cousins, I made a lot of memories. And yeah, most of them started with a song, and ended with a boy.

Every summer I found myself dancing in the living room with Belly. Both of us being terrible whatsoever. We would complain about how we needed a dance partner, and then two of the guys would come in.

Usually I got Conrad and Jeremiah went to Belly.

For fun, Belly and I used to practice being debs. To think that we actually wanted to do it when we were younger.

"God we need partners." I complained as I fell onto the couch.

"Steven!" Belly yelled to get her brothers attention.

Steven scoffed a no as he continued to play his video games.

"Here, I'll be your partner." Conrad said as he got up from the couch, walking over to me.

"Jeremiah, please." Belly said as she practically begged him.

He laughed a little before getting up to help us.

The music continued as Belly and I were spinning around, yet we couldn't even take ourselves seriously.

I concentrated hard on the steps as Conrad counted out the beats. I messed one up as I stepped on his foot.

"I'm so sorry." I laughed a little.

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's fine."

The four of us continued to practice ballroom dancing as Belly and I were spun around.

I did knock into Conrad a few times, maybe more than I should've which made the both of us laugh.

"Sorry." I said awkwardly.

"It's okay. It's fine." He would say.

And now, Belly and I were both in an actual dance room. Practicing for our moments of being a deb.

Cameron stood with her as I looked around awkwardly in the heels I was borrowing.

I practiced the steps by myself, but if I'm being honest, I just felt stupider. Everyone else had their partners, and they were all socializing, while I stood awkwardly in the midst of it.

I took off the gloves that I had been given as I took out my phone from my pocket. I needed Conrad to save me from this mess. Or someone atleast.

I texted him a quick "Hey" before putting my phone back in my pocket.

We had gotten a brief introduction of who Ms. Covington was, before we all began walking with her instructions. I turned to no one, and couldn't help but feel sorry for my own self.

"Hey. Where's your escort?" Nicole asked as she made her way over to me.

"Oh, I just haven't really found one. And none of the guys want to do it with me.." I said awkwardly smiling at Nicole.

"That's okay, uh, I-I'll be your partner for today."

"Really?" I asked.

"Sure, I'm your deb sister. But you're going to need an escort for your big night." Nicole reminded me. "Paige is going to have an aneurysm if you wait too long."

I laughed a little, "Yeah, so will Susannah."

We both laughed at the comment as she began helping me through the steps. I wasn't horrible, but I definitely wasn't good either.

"Did you do all this last year with, Conrad?" I asked Nicole as I missed her foot by a mere inch.

"Well, Conrad was actually spared Ms. Covington. I was supposed to go with this guys James, but he dropped out last minute. So Conrad stepped in to save me."

"Oh yeah, Susannah taught the boys a lot of dances." I said as I remembered the dances we used to do in the living room and in the ktichen.

"Conrad, actually, he-he had left me on read last night." Nicole stammered. "And I was wondering if you've seen him today."

"Um.." I thought back to last night and everything filled inside of me again. Happiness and excitement. "No, he was still asleep when I had left." I lied.

"Ooh!" Nicole exclaimed as I accidentally stepped on her foot.

"I am so sorry." I began to apoligize.

"No, no, it's okay, don't worry." She smiled as everyones eyes had turned to us.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked. "I'm so sorry."

"No, it's nothing, it's alright."

"Hey ladies." I turned my head to Jeremiah. "Mind if I have this dance?" He asked.

"Yes actually." Nicole and I both said which made us laugh a little.

"Belly..." Jeremiah said.

"Jeremiah, you're gonna get me in trouble with Paige." I said, pointing to his sheer basically netted top.

"Hey." He whistled over to Steven who happily took off the coat of his tux, handing it to Jere.

Nicole raised an eyebrow, "Okay, Harry Styles?"

"How's this? It's better?" He questioned.

I gave out a small laugh as I shook my head.

Jere didn't take much of the dancing seriously which made the both of us laugh as we waltzed through the room. I could hear snickers from Steven.

"Hey Alexa, play "So Pretty"" Jeremiah said quickly to the Alexa in the room.

The speaker began playing the song as we all looked at Jeremiah who was already dancing on his own with disappointed looks from Ms. Covington.

Ms. Covington didn't seem to care for long as she let us all dance to the music freely, obviously knowing she'd get complaints from us if we had asked her to stop with the song.

"What. Is going on here?" Paige asked as she came into the room. She ordered Alexa to stop and we all stood there, staring straight at her.

"Jeremiah Fisher, why aren't you at the pool?" She asked.

"We had a code brown." He lied. "Yeah, we had lost the keys to get into the chemical closet."

Paige shuffled through her little binder, pulling out a key and tossing it to Jeremiah. "There you go."

"Thanks." Jeremiah slightly whispered. He looked over to me, "See ya later, Y/N/N."

"All right everyone, let's try that again..." Paige sighed. "This time without, whatever that was."

I looked back up from where I was standing and saw Conrad in the doorway. I smiled at him as he gave me a peace sign.

What I barely saw was Nicole in front of me, who waved at Conrad as I did as well.

Nicole giggled as she made her way over to me, knowing she was my partner now that Jeremiah was kicked out.

My phone rang with messages, "Oh sorry, I just have to check this." I said.

My phone had a text from Conrad, saying "See you when you get back."

I couldn't help but smile just a little.

I continued dancing with Nicole, who now seemed to be in a better mood after the interaction with Conrad.

The practice didn't last long, giving me the perfect chance to go home, change into a swimsuit, and bike over to the beach for a quick swim.

I came home after the beach, seeing Jeremiah lay staring straight up at the sky.

I laughed a little, "What's with the flower crown?"

"My mom's getting ready to paint me as Hermes, messenger of the gods." Jeremiah said, but he didn't seem very stoked about it.

"Isn't that cool." I said smiling.

I looked around the backyard, but couldn't even find Conrad. I feel like something was happening between us again. I just didn't know what.

"Who you looking for?"

"Oh, I just um, thought Conrad would be back by now."

Jeremiah sighed before getting up, "Where have you been?"

"Just at the beach."

"You never go to the beach alone, are you okay?"

"Of course I am, I just wanted some me time." I said smiling.

"Well, if you are upset, Laurel and my mom... they're high-key stoned right now." Jeremiah said.

I looked at him in shock before laughing, "You're joking."

"I'm not!"

I shook my head.

"Yeah, all of the good snacks are gone."

Susannah had brought me out to inspect her painting of Jeremiah. Laurel followed out after me, but I couldn't stop staring at the painting.

"Ah- It's... um-" Was all that could manage to come out.

"Mmhmm." Jeremiah mumbled, trying to add on.

Laurel pointed at the painting, "Picasso and Jackson Pollock had a baby." She laughed.

"What?" Susannah said as she too had to get a better look of her painting.

All of us now stood around the painting, looking at what should've been Jeremiah.

"Oh my god, it's terrible." Susannah said as she began to laugh uncontrollably which made the rest of us break into fits of laughter as well.

Susannah and Laurel called us brats before leaving the house for a beach walk.

I walked up to my room, Jeremiah following close behind, "Come on, let's go swim."

I looked at my room. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and nothing was organized. "I actually have to clean my room, I'm sorry."

Jeremiah pouted, "How come nobody ever wants to play with me?"

I only smiled before walking into my room, "Later."

I mean I wouldn't say I was lying, but at the same time I wanted to hangout with Conrad, but he wasn't even here

A loud clammer from outside brought me away from cleaning. Conrad was outside, putting the easel and portrait back up.

I smiled as I made my way down the stairs, out to the deck.

Every summer focused on Conrad. This one was different though.

"You're back." I smiled.

He gave me a quick smile saying a quick "Hey" as well.

I helped put away some of the art supplies, as there was obviously some sort of tension yet again.

"How are you and your mom?" He asked.

I stammered a little, "Oh my mom- uhm, yeah we're good."

He took the water pitcher and paint brushes from me, our hands centimeters away from touching.

"What happened last night?" I asked.

"What do you mean." His back was to me.

I sighed, "For crying out loud we almost kissed."

"Really?" I was pretty wasted. Don't remember much."

He tried walking away, but I followed.

"Are you actually serious?" I asked, making eye contact with him.

Conrad shrugged, "Okay, so what. We almost kissed."

I stood there, just looking at him. I don't know what I wanted him to say, but I wanted it to be more. I wanted him to quit playing with me like how he used to.

"What do you want me to say, I'm sorry?" He asked.

I scoffed, "Are you sorry?"

"I don't know."

I just gave up. I couldn't win him and I was dumb to think so.

"Y/N, I think about you. And you know that I do. I just... I can't."

I held back all the tears that I possibly could. "I'm not playing these dumb games with you anymore."

There's been a lot of built up frustration recently. A lot more than I can hold. It's hard and it hurts.

It's hard being by yourself. Especially when everyone has someone else.

I waited a long time til Susannah got home. She was the one person I knew I could talk to. So as soon as she walked through the doors, she saw me.

"Hey, Sweetie, what are you doing down here?" She asked.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked, wiping away a tear that had just fallen from my eye.

She hugged me tightly, "Of course we can, I'll get a pot of tea ready for us.

I sat at the kitchen island as I watched her prepare my favorite tea. One that I used whenever feeling down.

"What's on your mind?" She asked as she sat down beside me at a stool.

"Do you believe in second chances?" I asked, looking up at her eyes.

"Of course I do. Especially for your age. You guys are new to love, experimenting."

"Susannah, I'm getting really mixed emotions and I don't know what to do."

All at once everything began to spur out of me.

Conrad walked in once during my little rant, but Susannah had shooed him off.

I jumped in the pool, ready for my late night swim. It was calming, peaceful almost.

Jeremiah hopped into the pool. But his tone was different.

"You're my best friend"

"And you're mine." I smiled.

"There are times where I wanted it to be more."

I looked at him in shock, "Jere-"

He grabbed my hand and I allowed it. I didn't stop him.

And there I was. 12 in the morning. In the cold pool. Kissing Jeremiah Fisher.

I let go.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

#conrad fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher #the summer i turned pretty #conrad x y/n #tsitp #belly conklin #conrad fisher #steven conklin #taylor jewel #susannah beck #susannah fisher #laurel conklin #summer #tsitp season 1 #tsitp season 2

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fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

Somewhere Only We Know

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Five hours of snowfall, four miles from the nearest paved road, three weeks before Christmas, two old friends and one bed….

Warnings: 18+smut, minors DNI, fingering, handjob, vaginal sex, passing mention of oral sex, all sorts of feelings.

Word Count: 7.9 k I'm so sorry...

Build a blurb prompt 1: Benedict 👅 smut 🌲 mutual pining 🛌 only one bed - from @amillcitygirl Build a blurb prompt 2: modern Benedict 👅smut 👥friends to lovers 🌲mutual pining 🛌only one bed - from anon

Authors Note: *beep beep* make way for the trope bus, it’s coming thru!! Is this original? No. Was it fun to write? Hell YES! This thing was supposed to be 1k follower celebration Drabble (HAHAHA) but it grew its own legs and took over my brain for the last week. This is my winter epic and I even listened to the namesake song as I was editing it. I hope you all enjoy. Betaed by the total trooper @makaylan and beautiful artwork above made especially by @bridgertontess thank you 🧡

“You’ll just have to stay here,” he shrugs, peering out at the falling snow.

You glance at your watch. It’s 5pm and already dark, snowflakes swirling furiously in the glow cast by the window.

This was not your plan. You are booked onto a late flight back to London tonight. You only came out to the beautiful Highlands for a day in nature after your business trip to Glasgow. OK, and a dose of time with the most handsome friend you have, but mainly for the scenery.

He’s rented a tiny cottage for a week as a painting retreat. Why he would do that in early December is a slight mystery. However, the scenery will undoubtedly be even more breathtaking with a blanket of snow tomorrow—an artist's dream.

“Look, the roads here are tiny and treacherous. It’s too risky to attempt the airport drive tonight in the dark in this snowstorm. I will pay for you to fly home tomorrow instead,” Benedict assures, “penance for not checking the forecast before inviting you?” he winces in the hopes of forgiveness.

“But…” you protest weakly, not exactly hating the idea of being trapped in a remote cottage in the mountains with the man who has haunted your dreams for more years than you care to remember.

“This place is warm,” he points to the roaring fireplace. “And well stocked, in more ways than one,” he adds, gesturing to the kitchenette full of supplies and, with a flourish, to the small selection of single malt bottles on a nearby shelf. “There’s even some festive decor,” he argues.

You are entertained that he believes some sprigs of holly, which he has obviously collected on one of his hikes, count as Christmas decorations. Although, to be fair, wrapped around the bookshelves and candles the way it is, it does look lovely.

‘Yes, but… there's also only one bed,” you argue, nodding to the not-exactly sizable double bed at the other end of the room, partially obscured by a room-dividing bookshelf. Even as you mention it, your belly has a warm fizz at the fleeting thought of waking up pressed against him.

“I can sleep on the sofa,” he says hurriedly in a reassuring tone.

“Ben, don't be ridiculous. You are six feet tall, and that thing is barely five. We are not so young we can just sleep anywhere and still be okay anymore,” you remind him.

“Yeah, thanks for that reminder,” he deadpans.

“We are grown-ups; we can share a bed,” trying to keep your tone breezy, but it feels like the reassurance is for yourself as much as him.

You pretend not to see how he swallows thickly at your suggestion, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily.

“If it makes you more comfortable, I can fashion a barrier with some throw cushions,” you shrug, a short nervous laugh bubbling up as you secretly chastise yourself for suggesting such a thing.

“No, no,” he rushes out very quickly. “What I mean is… it’s not a big bed, so by the time we do that, we would both be clinging to the edges. Let’s just, as you say, be adults about this and share the best we can.”

“Agreed.” You give a business-like nod, wanting to change the topic.

“Besides, the night is young,” he states, clapping and rubbing his hands together as if reading your mind. “What do you say we cook dinner together? Then, well, it’s card games or jigsaw puzzles, I’m afraid,” he skews his mouth with an apologetic twist.

“Sounds delightful on all counts,” you assure and bump him with your shoulder.

The evening seems to fly by, and the snowstorm outside somewhat abates as you make a delicious spaghetti bolognese together. Even though it's a tiny kitchen space, you make it work, moving around each other with an almost balletic fluidity as soft music plays from a Bluetooth speaker. There's no Wi-Fi or even much phone signal out here, but he came prepared with songs loaded onto his laptop. You exchange easy chat about mutual friends and what has been happening since you last saw one another a few weeks before.

As you sit down to eat together, the conversation flow continues. It's one of those meals you sop up the sauce from your plate with the warm bread rolls you serve as a side. Lingering in your chairs long after eating is complete, chatting amiably and animatedly about anything, everything and nothing all at once, with a delicious bottle of scotch.

Later, you take turns in the bathroom, cleaning teeth and changing into pyjama bottoms, and then you drift to the living room area. You watch as Benedict pours you both a nightcap into scotch glasses and glance outside to see the storm has picked up again, large clumps of fluffy snow gather in the corner of the window pane; you feel very cosy in this small but perfectly formed little rustic cottage.

“So, how have you been entertaining yourself all alone here for the last four nights?” you inquire, enjoying the smooth, smoky burn of the single malt.

Benedict is now sprawled across the nearby armchair in the most Benedict way, legs akimbo.

“I’ve read two books, and I’ve slept for nine hours every night,” he confesses, taking a sip of his drink and looking at you over the top of his glass.

The room feels like it's getting warmer regardless of the fire; how much is due to the delightful fog of whisky in your veins versus the handsome man across from you is indecipherable.

“Are you not lonely?” you blurt out.

“I live alone in London. What's the difference?” his brow knitting in confusion.

“Alone in the city is very different to alone out here,” you offer, “you can’t be that lonely when you’re only twenty feet from your neighbour through a wall.”

“Hmm, never thought about it like that,” his mien turns thoughtful, scratching his palm on the shadow of stubble on his chin.

You hear the rasp from where you sit, and you almost squeak in surprise as your treacherous mind supplies a vivid snapshot of that stubble teasing the soft skin of your lower belly as he looks up at you with a seductive smirk. You have to shake your head to get rid of it.

“Fear of murder out here is different,” you offer, trying to reroute your thoughts.

“Morbid,” he shoots back, raising an eyebrow with a bemused expression on his face.

“Out here, no one can hear you scream,” you jest, aping the movie line.

He guffaws into his glass. “Sometimes that can be a good thing.”

“Murder?!”

“The ability to scream and not be heard,” he clarifies, his tone markedly more languid than before.

“Painting not going well?” you ask with a chuckle.

“It’s going great, but not what I was referring to,” he argues, and you can’t seem to look away from his mouth all of a sudden.

Damn, how much whisky have you had?

“Had a girl here, Bridgerton?” your venture, a flutter in your chest even as you ask.

“Not until now,” he scoffs, but the intensity in his hazy blue stare causes a riot in your stomach.

You have to look down at your feet before you do something stupid, like climb into his lap and suck on his luscious bottom lip.

“Have you been masturbating loudly?” you quip, still looking down, the thought leaving your lips before you can censor it.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, making you look back at him—big mistake. His eyes look stormy, and you can see a vein in his neck pulsing hard. Like you’ve awoken something.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you stutter even as your mind floods with images of just that—him stroking his cock and panting, preferably your name.

The atmosphere feels a little too thick, and you briefly curl your lip into your mouth and bite it to give yourself something else to focus on.

“More whisky?” you offer, standing up and changing the subject.

“Sure.” He holds out his glass, and you swear his fingers intentionally slot between yours as he passes it to you.

You use the few moments it takes to refill your drinks, with your back turned, to gather your thoughts and slow your breathing. Having served, you sink onto the couch again but intentionally shift to face him more directly. The alcohol makes you bold and intrigued to know where this might go. He seems to do the same, his feet looping over the armchair's edge and almost touching yours.

“Hey, do you remember that summer when we were, l think, maybe twelve and…”

“Excuse me, point of order,” you butt in, “If you were twelve, I was ten. OK? Continue…” you motion with your hands for him to go on.

“Yes, thanks for reminding me I am older,” he snarks and skews his mouth into an affectionate pout.

“You are welcome, old man,” you tease with a slight smirk.

“Well, anyway… do you remember that summer Colin came home with headlice? And Ant’s answer was to shave all of our heads? Mum almost had a heart attack when she walked in on that. She was forever grateful he’d only gotten around to doing us three boys. She might have died if we’d made it down to Daph or El…” he is laughing heartily around his scotch glass at the memory.

“Remember it?!?” you pipe up, “of course I do! Don't you remember you were trying to push me in front of your sisters in Ant’s barber line? You seemed concerned to ensure I either got rid of or never got them in the first place; I don't remember which,” you laugh, an ache of fond nostalgia in your chest at little Benedict.

“Well, of course, I’ve always looked out for you,” he rolls his eyes as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You smile a genuinely warm smile at him. He's been a wonderful person in your life for as long as you can remember.

“But you’ve always looked out for me too. I remember you brought me a Malteser every day when I was sick with the mumps.”

“I did?!” your voice incredulous; you do not remember doing so.

“Yes, and I've never forgotten it,” he voices sincerely before he takes a draw of his drink. “But then there is so much about you that is unforgettable, isn't there?” he adds, looking at you with an intensity you don't know what to do with.

“Stop it,” you answer bashfully, embarrassed to meet his gaze, staring beyond his shoulder at the snow falling heavily and sticking to the window in fluffy clumps. “And if we’re on this flattery train, what about you? You think I don’t know it’s been you sending me an ‘anonymous’ rose every single Valentine's Day?”

He gapes at you in surprise. “Wait, how did you know it’s from me?’”

“You are the sweetest person I know. It could never be anyone but you, Ben.” You shrug as if the answer is obvious, “and I know it was never out of pity for the times I’m single because you sent one those years I was with Dan, which used to make him so mad, by the way, and when I was with Julian and Paul….”

“Urgh, Dan deserved to be mad,” his tone dismissive, and his face ticked, “I always hated him.”

“You hated everyone I dated, that you met anyway,” you point out, that fact just dawning on your as you speak it.

“But him the most,” he grouses with a sour expression.

“Why?”

“‘Cos he got the closest to marrying you. And I really didn’t want to have to do that whole stand-up in church and object thing. But, by god, I would have.”

His powerful words stun you; you had no idea how deep his feelings on the subject ran.

“Y… you would?” you stutter.

His eyes are so intense now. Even as he takes a swig, he doesn't look away. “He was not worthy of you,” he declares, slow and deliberate, enunciating each word crisply.

“So, who is?” you ask quietly as you take a sip, the question echoing hollowly in your glass.

“I haven't met anyone yet,” he notes with finality.

You had no idea he had judged every single one of your boyfriends and, what’s more, found all of them to be somehow lacking. In hindsight, he was correct, but he never said anything to you at the time, and you can't decide if you want to hold that against him. It might have saved you a lot of heartache and possibly a lot of money.

“Well, if you meet someone that has the Benedict seal of approval, you’ll be sure to send them my way, yeah?” you volley, your voice light.

He breaks into a smile that makes something flutter strong in your ribcage.

“Certainly. I hope you don't mind waiting until possibly your eighties for me to find a worthy suitor,” he jokes.

“Oh god, really?” you groan, “but I can’t not have sex until then,” you lament and kick your legs out as if in a fit of pique.

“Oh, you can have all the sex you want,” he lobbies back, waving his hand dismissively, “you just can’t fall in love,” his eyes twinkle with mischief you’ve always found beguiling.

“Duly noted,” you giggle.

There is a beat where you just look at each other with a shared fondness that makes your heart ache a little—perhaps under different circumstances, he could be the one person worthy of you, as he puts it.

“Well, that is the last log on the fire dying down. I'm not going out in that damn snow to fetch more, so I think the safest thing to do is get under the covers before it gets too cold in here.” he opines.

“Ben, it's 10:30 pm… really?” you whine, “are you really going to bed already, grandpa?” but as you complain, you stifle a yawn.

“Haha, I saw that yawn!” he retorts triumphantly, “and I've got news for you, missy. You are going to bed too.” He grabs both of your hands and easily hauls you off the sofa.

“Why?!?” you scoff but are secretly enthralled when he rounds behind you, his sizable hands landing warm on your hips and propelling you towards the bedroom area.

“Because I’m not having you crawl under the covers later bringing in all that cold air with you, nope, no thank you, not happening,” he chimes over your shoulder.

“So I have to go to bed now?!” you throw your hands up in the air, but he keeps propelling you forward.

“Yup,” he grins, popping the ‘p’ rather obnoxiously.

You capitulate with a weary sigh. “Urghhh, fine. But I will be up reading for a few more hours, so I hope you can sleep with the light on.”

“Fine with me,” he chuckles, herding you towards the bed. “I once slept in your dorm room when your flatmate was having a full-on dance party. I think I can sleep through your reading.”

You collapse onto the bed giggling at that memory, tugging off your shoes and socks but nothing else as he does the same. He pulls the covers back, and you both settle under, still in your fleecy jumpers. Without your socks, however, your feet feel freezing, and with a wicked grin, you cook up a solution.

“Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with your feet?!? Why are they so cold!!” he exclaims as your toes wrap around his exposed ankle.

He twists to try and get away from you, but your feet chase him under the covers, you laughing, him shrieking.

“My hands are cold too,” you chortle, clamping them onto his surprisingly muscular forearm.

He squeals in the most undignified manner, trying to shake your grip, but you just limpet on harder, giggling in that way only tipsy people do.

There is the most delightful resulting tussle, him trying to wrestle your hands and feet away as you try your damndest to keep them on him—the duvet entwining around all of your limbs.

You end up with his weight and warmth partially on top of you, pinning you down, him triumphantly ensnaring your wrists and holding your hands firmly onto the pillow. Your joint heavy breathing and giggles slowly die out as you stare at each other. Your faces have never been so close before. You have no doubt your pupils are as blown as his, and you are certain that he can feel the racing heartbeat at your wrists where he pins you down. His breath is warm on your cheek.

After a few silent moments, his gaze drops to your mouth; he suddenly mutters an apology and starts to pull away.

As if in slow motion, you push up and press your lips to his. You are not thinking at all, just going with your instinct. His lips are warm and plush, and you want more. So much more.

You feel the moment his whole body freezes; he is stunned in the truest sense of the word.

You pull back quickly, sinking into the pillow under him.

“Oh god. I’m so, so sorry,” you whisper, mortified, “please forgive me, I….”

Your words die out as he makes a noise you’ve never heard before. It seems to come from deep inside him, making every hair on your body stand on end.

Then he is on you. Closing the gap between you and capturing your lips with a passion that steals your breath and thoughts. He is kissing so hard, so quickly, you feel lightheaded, pressing you into the mattress under his body. His lips open over yours, his tongue teasing against your lips. He tastes of toothpaste, traces of whiskey and something that is all him, and you flood your underwear; there's also a noise from your throat that doesn’t sound human. He kisses like a storm, hot and electric, and you want to drown in him.

Suddenly his hands are everywhere, and so yours follow suit. It’s a desperate clambering of wanting more. Before you can completely acknowledge it, his hands are questing under your jumper, squeezing your waist, sliding up and over your bra, and tweaking a nipple as his tongue parries with yours.

“Please, please take this off,” he implores passionately into your mouth, tugging at your top. His voice, this close and breathless, is lethal. He is everywhere, surrounding and covering you, and your focus narrows to just him as he sits up to peel off his jumper and t-shirt together, exposing his torso. You freeze. Your arms crossed, halfway through taking off yours.

“Fucking hell,” you exhale before you can stop yourself.

You figured Benedict would be in shape from the feel of his body when you hug, but you haven't seen him shirtless in a long time, and just how much in shape he is, is a revelation. He smiles demurely at your outburst, which makes you want him even more if that were possible.

“Take yours off,” he sounds impatient, and you realise you are still frozen in the same position. You quickly whip yours over your head; his responding noise is your new favourite sound. You feel so grateful you only brought nice underwear on this trip; your lacy bra appears to work for him.

“The knickers match,” you murmur, revelling in the flash in his eye.

You grab his hand and move it to the drawstring on your pyjamas. His long slender fingers pluck the bow tied there; his gaze is on your face the whole time, his kiss-damp lips glowing softly in the low light. You breathe deeply and can’t look away from his captivating face. When the string relents, he winks. Rather than pull them down, his hand quests inside and between your legs.

You gasp and buck up off the pillow as warm, strong fingers press on your clit through the lacy fabric. You know he can feel your heat, just how wet the material is.

“I’ve wanted you for years,” he rumbles low and sinful as his fingers tease a circle over your clit. “Although this seems unreal - I half assume I’m going to wake up in a minute with my hand wrapped around my cock, alone.”

Hearing him say the word cock makes you moan. He licks his lips, and his fingers curl firmer on you.

“Tell me this is real; I’m not dreaming again,” he pleads fervently, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing your air. He is achingly beautiful this close up, his eyes just a thin ring blazing around dark inky pupils staring into your depths. This man has always been able to make you feel seen, but this close, this intense, it feels like he’s peering into your soul.

“You’re not dreaming, Ben,” you reply shakily, trying not to lose all composure at what the word ‘again’ might imply as he gradually tortures you with unhurried, steady movements.

He is watching your face, so closely observing, cataloguing your micro-expressions. His fingers move, spidering along the lace trim before pushing under the fabric this time, sliding down through your trimmed pubic hair and into your naked, soaked folds.

“Ben!” You call out, grasping that strong forearm again, biting your lip and staring into his fiery gaze.

“What do you need?” he questions. It’s the first time anyone has ever asked you that in bed.

“You,” you reply honestly.

“You have me, 110% you have me,” he asserts in a tone that melts something in your chest. “As if you don't know it, you’ve had me for many years,” he admits as his hand slides lower. You cry out as he pushes two fingers just a fraction inside you.

“Fuck, you are on fire,” he exclaims, a shaky exhale across your lips.

“Only for you,” you answer, knowing you’ve never been this turned on before in your life.

He growls, actually growls. And then his lips are back on yours in the most potent kiss yet. You pulse around him and groan into his mouth as he sinks his fingers deeper. When the kiss ends, you glance down your body, seeing the stiff peaks of your nipples poking insistently through the lace and his sinewy forearm buried into your pyjama bottoms.

“Do you like what you see?” his voice a velvety tease.

“I’d like it even more if we were naked,” you respond honestly.

He chuckles at that, and his lips descend, dropping light kisses down your neck as his fingers tease you, surging in and out of your body so achingly slow. His thumb rests on your clit, a little nudge of pressure every time his fingers rock into your channel.

“I need to make you come like I need air,” he confesses, his voice resonant, his warm breath skittering over the sensitive skin of your throat. It’s the hottest thing you've ever heard.

“Please do…” it’s a quiet plea.

You feel the curve of his cheek as he smiles, and the fingers inside you flex.

“I suppose if you’d like to be more naked, then I’d better strip you down first,” he remarks, gently withdrawing his fingers.

Warm hands hook into your underwear, and he scooches away, pulling them down your legs, taking your PJs with them. Suddenly, the image that flashed in your mind earlier becomes a reality, his stubbly chin grazing your belly as he crawls back over you.

“You look amazing,” he sighs over your belly button and leans his forehead on your stomach as he takes a deep breath. “You smell it too.”

He runs his nose and lips over your skin as he surges up and nuzzles your bra, pleading with his eyes for you to remove it as he pulls the straps down over your arms, kissing along the lacy cup edge.

When his lips wrap around one of your nipples, you grab his hair and push up against him, the swoop of sensation in your belly like riding a rollercoaster, the thrill tingling along the back of your scalp.

He moves to lay beside you, and you watch the duvet move as he strips off his bottoms under it. Suddenly there is a thick wave of body heat as he rolls next to you; you feel something sizeable and solid brand your hip.

“Oh, Ben,” slips out on instinct, but he stops your questing hand.

“Not yet,” he shakes his head and smirks at your corresponding pout. “When you have come, preferably screaming, then you can touch my cock. Okay?”

You physically feel the shiver down your spine at that line. Who even says things like that?

He smiles against your temple as he slips his fingers back into you, and you moan at the sensation. He curls his body around you, legs twining around your right one to hold you open. That cock is still rigid on your hip; it feels sizeable and delicious.

“Tell me what you like,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing a circle over your clit his fingers stroking in a come hither motion.

“This… exactly what you are doing,” you reply breathlessly, “just please don't stop and maybe go a little harder?” you request timidly.

He smirks and pushes his fingers deeper; his motions get stronger and faster. You close your eyes and nod, licking your lips.

“Yes, that oh god Ben, thattttt,” you stumble as his magical fingers spiral you higher.

When they jab a spot inside, a bloom of pleasure hits you, and your eyes fly open, going wide.

“Oh, that’s the spot,” he preens, redoubling his efforts as you start to pant loudly, clinging to his arm and whining his name—the hot and intense pleasure building remarkably fast.

“That’s it come on,” he encourages, whispering into your hairline right above your ear; his tone is both soothing and achingly filthy.

“Ben… I,” your words morph into needy noises, drunk on the sensations rippling through your body, fanning out from his fingers buried inside you.

“Yes, yes,” he hisses, “you’re close now; I can feel it. Look at me,” he orders.

And you do. Mouth hanging open, squirming on his fingers, feeling something primal washing over you. His eyes burn into yours.

“Don’t fight it,” he warns.

It's almost like permission; you feel something inside you give way. You scream loudly as a tide of orgasm washes over you. Blood rushes in your ears, and you feel his leg bear down over the apex of your thigh, holding your pelvis onto the bed as you cry and convulse. Your body fights his fingers, trying to push them out as your whole channel clenches in strong waves.

After a few moments of deep breaths, you open your eyes, and he kisses your cheek, then your lips.

“Wow… that was…. absolutely amazing,” he confides, kissing more. “And it's a damn good thing no one can hear us here. You scream like a horror movie queen, and I mean that with all the very best compliments.”

You laugh a little abashed and bury your face into his armpit, loving the smell of his deodorant and just him.

“Your turn,” you mumble, deciding to be bold and snake a hand down your side to grab his cock at your hip.

It’s large and thick enough your fingers don’t quite meet when you wrap around it. It makes your insides melt at the thought of how it would feel sliding into you. He makes the neediest huffing noises as you twist onto your side to face him and begin an unhurried rhythm, watching that pretty cock twitch in your hand.

You tease him with a gentle twisting motion, squeezing a little as you reach his head, swiping a thumb over the bead of precum that appears, gently massaging his frenulum as he lets out a faint moan. His hand covers yours, stilling your movements.

“This is so wonderful, but I need you to stop if you want sex. Do you want to… have sex?” he asks so demurely your heart clenches.

“Yes, Ben, please,” you whisper.

“I didn't bring any condoms with me,” he says quietly, “I didn't think I’d meet another soul up here, let alone well…” he trails off, pitching forward, so his lips are warm on your cheek.

“I didn't either, but I'm on the Pill,” you shrug. You've never had first-time sex without a condom, but this man isn't a stranger; he's a lifelong friend, and you trust him with your life.

“I know,” he says softly, kissing your nose.

“Wait, how do you know that?” your brow knitting lightly.

“I know everything about you,” he asserts against your skin, staring into your eyes. “How you take your tea - English breakfast before 2pm, Earl Grey after, both with milk and one sugar. I know how the tip of your tongue here,” he softly trails his nose over the corner of your mouth, “sticks out of your mouth when you type on your laptop. I know you always loop your glasses into the neckline of your top,” a finger tracing gently over the swell of your breast, “and somehow always forget they are there and have a ten-second panic every time.” He laughs gently. “I even know how you prefer plain Hobnobs over chocolate; I have no idea why, and you are so wrong on that, by the way,” he shoots you a devastating lopsided grin. “And I know you are on the Pill because I've watched you take them religiously for years; when I stay at yours, and you make coffee in the morning, it’s the first thing you take before your multivitamin.”

His casual recounting of so many little, human things that make you, you, astounds you. This man knows you better than you know yourself, and you get a weird swooping sensation in your chest. Of elation that you've finally figured it out, he might just be the one - your human, but also a crushing regret you haven't done so sooner. You could have been doing this, intimately entwined with this wonderful, thoughtful, sensitive, handsome man, for so many years.

Not wanting to waste any more opportunity and so very desperate to have him inside you, you use all your strength to roll him onto his back and climb on top. Surprised and aroused, he looks up at you devotedly, his pupils blown wide.

Silently and without breaking eye contact, you reach between your bodies, line up his weeping beautiful cock, and sink onto him without another thought. The needy noise he makes is like poetry.

He feels perfect, and you close your eyes to revel in being stretched around him, a solid hot presence filling you up and holding you so open. Just the perfect length and girth for you, almost like his cock was made for you.

Warm hands grasp your hips, and your eyes fly open and look down at him, his expression pleading with you to move. Gradually you rise up, then drop down just once, savouring the sensations as he drags against your walls.

“You feel perfect,” he groans “please….”

You know what he is asking, begging for - more. Something in you wants to draw this out, go so achingly slow both of you get mindless. Luxuriate in this carnal, sensual meeting.

“Talk to me,” you implore, starting a leisurely pace.

“What about?” you watch him glance down between your bodies, watching his cock disappear into you as you sink down.

“Talk to me, Ben,” you repeat but pointedly, grabbing his chin to look at you and raising an eyebrow.

There's a lightbulb of understanding behind his eyes, and that killer crooked smile spreads across his face.

“You like my voice, don't you?” he says, pitched low, and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands as leverage for your movements.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, gasping as the pleasure grows between your legs just as he says those few words.

“I know,” he smirks, “I’ve known for years.”

You look at him in surprise. “Wait, how?” you breathe, disbelieving.

He grabs your shoulders and pulls you down on top of him: so much heat and warm flesh.

“I have noticed your pupils dilate every time I drop my voice just like this,” he murmurs low and sinful into your ear. “The temptation to say so many dirty things has been so strong. God, I love it when you are aroused, and you think you can hide it. I knew you were getting wet; it would take all my willpower not to grab and kiss you senselessly. Especially those days when you are only in a little floaty skirt, I could actually smell it. Delicious and sweet and so fucking sexy. That little squirm you would do. How you move your body is fucking sinful. And now I get to enjoy it. You riding me like this. Fuck, if this isn't every fantasy I've ever had coming true.”

By the time his filthy soliloquy is done, you are panting hard, not from the exertion as you rock on him but the way he has pushed you so close to orgasm with so little effort - just his voice and words.

“Ben,” you shudder, “I….” words fail as you feel your body flush.

“I can feel you are fluttering. Are you going to come so soon?” he exhales, impressed. “Oh god, please, please do it,” he urges. “I need to feel it.”

You sit up and reach down to touch your clit, and he swears at the sight. You are tipping over the edge, stilling your movement as you sit with him at your hilt and clench around him. He feels impossibly huge inside you, twitching and pulsing.

“Fuckkkkkkkk,” he groans long and loud, clenching his teeth. You know he is also fighting the urge to come, wanting this to last much longer.

Greedy for more, for another stronger climax, you go to move again, but he stops you.

“Please don't move, not yet,” he pleads, grabbing your hips and quelling your movement. “I need… a few moments, please.”

You smile down at him indulgently and link your hands again, bringing the back of his hand to your mouth and kissing it delicately. Then to be a tease, you envelop his middle finger in your mouth, running your tongue over it, tasting his tangy skin. He growls as you add his pointer finger and suck hard, staring down at him heatedly.

“This isn't really helping,” he warns reluctantly with a playful pout.

You let his fingers slip out of your mouth and guide his hand to your breasts, pressing his now-damp fingers against your nipple. He enthusiastically grips your flesh, and you throw your head back and moan as he teases your sensitive buds, pinching them between his fingertips. You gyrate your hips, dragging his tip against your cervix.

There is another growl, and suddenly you are tipped over onto the mattress, him still buried inside you. He grabs your legs and loops his arms under them, pulling your body so open under him.

“Hold onto me… twine your arms around me,” he instructs.

You do, fingers digging into his smooth, muscular torso. Panting in anticipation; at the feel of him holding you down, his pelvis crushed against your engorged clit.

He begins to move, and you can't help but make noises; he just overwhelms all your senses. His kisses, his skin, his arms, your legs held high and wide. He is almost delicate in his motion, but you can tell he is holding back.

“Don't be too gentle, Ben,” you beg, bringing one hand up to cup his jaw and running your thumb over his bottom lip. “Please just fuck me.”

His mouth captures your thumb, and you gasp as he spears into you hard. You hiss your approval as he crowds over you to kiss you fiercely. Then everything is a haze as your mind switches off, and you are rooted in your body, chasing sensation as he takes you hard. He feels so hot and rigid, pounding into you as you lay under him, pinned and almost helpless to this onslaught but wanting nothing more than being right where you are. For a first time together, it’s not awkward or timid; it's exciting and mindblowing but somehow still safe, knowing you can trust him with everything, including your body.

Between kisses, there are whispered encouragements against lips and hands grasping so tight to each other as movements become more frantic and fast. He is hitting your clit on each stroke and panting, so present in the moment, eyes boring into yours. You know he is so close, hanging by a thread when he screws his eyes shut and pleads with you to come with him. A few more strokes and it is happening, your orgasm hitting you hard and breaking over your body in waves, fanning out from your core as you clench around him, making your muscles spasm and your toes curl. You feel him coming hard, too, a warm bloom inside you as he jerks a few heavy thrusts, then stills, mouth open over yours and huffing gulps of air as he twitches.

After a few moments of deep breaths and slumped limbs, he pulls his face up to kiss you tenderly.

“Wow,” he breathes, and you giggle and nod your head. “Why haven't we been doing that for the last god knows how many years?” he shakes his head, his voice a little ragged and rough-edged.

“I don't know, but we should be doing a lot more of it,” you respond brightly, “make up for lost time?”

He laughs warmly and agrees, taking his weight off you and rolling and rearranging your bodies so you are both on your sides, facing each other, hands laced together, noses touching. And that is how you fall asleep.

—

You awaken to dazzling sunlight streaming in, reflecting off all the snow. You wince against the brightness and clamp your eyes shut, burrowing back into Benedict. You feel surrounded, in the best sense of the word. He is a warm solid presence behind your back, an arm slung around the dip of your waist, a hand curled around your breast, legs entangled, downy hair tickling your calves. And best of all, a hard cock nestles the back of your thighs. You flex your hips and shuffle until his tip is poised right at your entrance. He stirs, and there is a hot exhale on the back of your neck.

“Get inside me, please,” you petition quietly, voice scratchy from sleep.

Wordlessly, he rolls his hips, surging into your body in one swift stroke. You moan so loudly that he huffs a laugh, then stills, buried inside you.

“Now go back to sleep,” he grumbles affectionately, arm pulling you into him tighter, your whole body flush to his, curling his legs up so you are almost in the fetal position.

“Like this?!” your tone incredulous, as his fingernails trace an idle ellipsis around your areola.

“Mmm hmmm,” his hum vibrates into your spine.

“Bennnn…” you protest, clenching around him, so he groans deeply.

“I promise to fuck you so hard you forget your name… later, if you let me sleep just a little more,” he proposes, nuzzling your hair.

What a lovely thought. You lay still in his arms for a few minutes, but his cock holding you open is far too distracting.

“Bennn…” you try again.

“Shhhhh…” he reacts, but you can tell he's not sleepy anymore; there is a smile on the nape of your neck.

“You feel too good; I can’t sleep,” you whine, slightly petulant.

“You’re not even trying,” he chuckles richly.

“You can't do this to me,” you wheedle, your breath hitching triumphantly as he tilts his pelvis and slips a fraction deeper.

“If I fuck you right now, will you stop complaining?” his tone laced with amusement.

“Hmmm, maybe,” you shoot back, twisting to glance at him over your shoulder, seeing his eyes dancing with mirth.

Your lips meet, and it's a breathy passionate kiss, all open mouths and tongues, teasing each other and fighting for dominance.

As your mouths dance, he starts to move at a languid pace, just rocking into your body gently, and it’s the best wake-up you have ever had. You cover his hand on your breast, and he intuits what you are asking, squeezing the swell, your nipple snagged between his middle and pointer finger. You break the kiss, and his teeth gently skim the cord on your neck as he speeds up a little.

“Will you wake me up like this every day, please?” you sigh, not thinking about the implications of your words, just drunk on the sensation.

“Happily,” he rumbles and spears a little stronger, making you call out his name.

“The sound I really want to wake up to though….” his voice teasing and low. “is this one…” and his hand slips from your breast to between your legs.

You moan and writhe in his strong hold, little sparks of pleasure firing where he touches.

“That’s it, that’s the sound,” he encourages as you both move together in sync.

It’s a wonderfully sensual experience, growing in intensity until he rolls you over onto your front, still inside you, fucking into you from behind, covering your entire body with his. His hand is trapped between your body and the mattress while teasing your clit.

“Oh god, Ben,” you cry as he seems to slide deeper than ever, your thigh trapped shut together, his legs bracketing yours, using all his effort to drive into you, the tone shifting from languid to vigorous. You’ve never been taken in this position before, and at this angle, he is hitting all the right spots inside you to make your eyes roll back and bite the pillow.

It hurtles you fast, beginning to pant raggedly, and you urge him on, asking for more and harder, and he obliges, thrusting so strong your whole body rolls and the bed squeaks loudly in protest. Your voice becomes one long moaning sound; you are pushing back onto his cock as much as possible, a chorus of please don't stop as he drives you fast towards a climax. His body is bowed, breathing hot puffs of air across your upper back, with an occasional kiss, his lips soft and wet.

He holds you on a precipice for a moment; you crane to look back at his face pleadingly; his expression is wild and so gorgeous it catches your breath.

“You are magnificent,” he rasps against your skin.

Then the hand not on your clit suddenly spanks your butt cheek while his teeth sink into the top of your trapezius muscle, pushing you over the edge, calling his name as you pulsate hard around him. Him grunting and thrusting deeper, fighting your clenching muscles. Then he stills, and every muscle tenses as he empties into your body, almost shaking from the intensity.

He collapses onto your back, breathing in wracked sounds.

“Fucking hell,” you both say almost in unison, then giggle at your matching assessment of the experience.

He pulls out of you reluctantly and flops down onto the mattress to your left, wrapping an arm around you and manoeuvring so are the little spoon once again.

“That was intense,” he voices, and you make a noise of agreement, lacing your fingers with his and holding your joined hands up, watching his fingers sink between yours and curve over, his fingertips resting on your palm.

“We are awesome at sex,” you opine. Benedict chuckles at that, hooking his chin over your shoulder. “And you know what that means?”

“What?” his tone lilting.

“We just have to keep doing it all the time,” you observe with a mock, burdened sigh.

“What a terrible hardship for us,” he concurs with an ironic laugh, nuzzling your neck with a grin on his face. __

Half an hour later, you have showered together - which proved almost as distracting as morning sex until the hot water tank ran out, and you jumped out squealing as the water turned ice cold - and are now leisurely making brunch. You both only wear towelling robes you stole from your Glasgow hotel room, the fireplace roaring again. You agree to go for a walk in the snow later, neither of you mentioning booking your flight home.

“Wait, why is this sofa so bloody uncomfortable” you bemoan, taking a sip of coffee and flicking idly through a book you took from a shelf. “I don't remember it being this bad last night,” you ponder aloud.

“Well, you had had a couple of whiskeys by then,” Benedict points out as he cooks an amazing-smelling breakfast a few feet away in the kitchenette.

“True, but honestly, what is going on with it?” you grumble, putting the book aside, not yet sufficiently caffeinated.

“Sofa beds tend not to be comfortable. As either a sofa or a bed,” he rattles out, flipping a slice of bacon in the pan.

You grind to a halt in your efforts to get comfy.

“Sofa bed…?” You echo out loud.

He suddenly freezes and realises what he has admitted.

“Benedict bloody Bridgerton!!” you exclaim loudly, standing up, “did you trick me into sharing your bed?!?”

He turns around slowly, knowing he is foiled and pulls a sheepish face.

“Yeahhhh, a lil bit…” he admits as you gape at him, attempting his most winning remorseful smile. “But, in my defence…” he adds, waving the spatula, “you are the one who kissed me first. I just stacked the deck; you drew the first card.”

He expertly swerves the cushion you throw at him before flicking off the stove and pushing aside the pan.

“Right…” he charges at you as you squeal.

He corners you with ease in the compact space and throws you over his shoulder.

“We are using this stupid sofa bed right now,” he instructs and, rather attractively, casually flicks a handle on the side with his foot to open it. He practically throws you onto the (admitted thin, rather uncomfortable) bed and tugs open your robe, snaking his way down your body and throwing your legs over his shoulder, shooting you a molten hot gaze from between your thighs.

You have no arguments with this development. None whatsoever.

—

You return to that tiny cottage every year for that same week as a ritual—a little private anniversary. Sometimes you stay through New Year, just the two of you ringing in the entire festive season.

He buys it for you as a wedding gift, and you cry at the sentimentality of the man buying you the place you first got together. (One thing you do early on - buy a new, comfortable sofa.)

It becomes a haven for your lives together, even when you have to bring cots and camp beds for your children, all sleeping communally in that one room. (You don’t tell them, but all of your children are named after characters in an obscure old book he finds hidden in the rafters when you are renovating while pregnant with your firstborn.)

Nothing brings you more joy than when you can escape to that little cottage in the Highlands. You never tell anyone besides your children where it is—it’s your escape, your sanctuary. The “somewhere only we know,” as Benedict always called it.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #1k follower celebration #build a blurb celebration

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blvckdress · 1 year

Text

𝘾𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ?

Fiona Gallagher x Sister! Gallagher Reader

Fiona hits rock bottom. Everyone seems to be dealing with their own shit until you come along and remind her that you'll always have her back.

You were happy with how your life was at the moment. I mean sure, with community college, your part time receptionist job at some firm where you still have no idea what it is they do - amongst other side hustles - and dealing with countless family bullshit, your life was more than chaotic. But you were making something of yourself, something that you really loved doing and if it meant dealing with all that then so be it.

Debbie has been a huge pain in the ass so far with her raging meticulousness towards finances and overall bossiness. You loved Debbie, you really did, but for the past few weeks you crashed at the place of a 60-year old woman named Barbara in your Spanish class who you became friends with after bonding over the professor's receding hairline. However tonight she had "company" over and you decided you would literally rather be anywhere else.

It was cold and dark out and you just got back from taking an hour test so tonight you were planning to go home, drink a little bit of brandy and maybe have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

As you walked down the familiar street where you witnessed at least three fights and an arrest daily, you noticed Fiona leaning back against the bench looking up at the sky.

"Fiona?"

She looked at you and for a second her eyes lit up.

"Hey (Name)."

You plopped down next to Fiona.

"What're you doing out here?" You ask, leaning your head against her shoulder. She rests her head on yours.

"Debbie changed the locks."

You groan.

"Ugh Debbie! What the hell is up with her?"

"She's got a massive stick up her ass that's what," You both look at each other then laugh.

Looking at her up close you take in her appearance. Her eyes are bloodshot and she looks like she hasn't slept in days.

"Hey Fi...are you doing okay?"

She sighed, closing her eyes as she exhaled a large breath.

"Right now...no."

You shared her sentiment. Ugh damn it, Debbie! You were sure that changing the locks cost more money than what they were all spending on turning on the lamp for five seconds after six o'clock.

"Coffee?"

"Coffee."

Ever since you were in middle school and got the taste of an espresso with a shit ton of milk you liked having mini coffee dates with Fiona. No matter what time or place whenever one of you made coffee it was a sign to just fuck everything.

Fiona lit her cigarette and blew out the smoke. The two of you were leaning against the brick of some random convenience store, cups of coffee in your hands.

"Everything's just so fucked up. No matter what I do it's just -" Fiona caught herself as her voice wavered. You took a sip of your coffee. "It's just so hard. I really thought I had it and then...everything blows over."

You reached over to hold her hand.

"I'm really proud of you kid, y'know that?"

You mouth forms a small smile. "Fiona." She turns towards you.

"The only reason I'm able to do all this is because of you. You took care of all of us your entire life. Don't be so hard on yourself."

You and the rest of your siblings were struggling enough as it is, so you can't imagine what she has had to deal with all these years.

You continued, "I'm sorry that we haven't talked that much. I missed you."

Fiona smiles. "I've missed you too (Name)."

"You should leave this place."

Fiona looks at you and laughs. "What? What do you mean?"

"I'm serious! Once you're back on your feet - which I know you will be - just leave. Do what you wanna do without having to worry about us."

And you mean it. Honestly, you pray to god she listens.

Fiona looks thoughtful, taking a drag of her cigarette before sipping her coffee.

Thirty minutes later you were ready to go to sleep. Shitty coffee, I guess. You supposed Barbie must have had her fun and is already asleep now.

"Alright I'm done, wanna come with?" You ask.

"And go where?" Fiona asked, tossing her cig and coffee in the trash.

"Classmate's crib, she has a pull out." Fiona swung her arm around you and pulled you close.

"Thanks (Name)."

"Anytime Fi."

#shameless us #shameless one shot #fiona gallagher #fiona gallagher apologist #this woman deserves the WORLD and more #fiona gallagher x reader

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heejayy · 1 year

Text

Shuri U. || Mommy’s girl

Warning • couples quarrel, swearing, bratty ass kid, mentions kid getting injured, parent life

Genre • idk? A little bit of fluff at the end

Pairing • Mom! Shuri x Mom! Black Reader

Wc • 2.2k

"Nina, please stop drawing on the walls!" You yelled after your six-year-old daughter as she dashed through the house with a marker. Her giggles echoed off the walls as she turned the corner, but before she could run any further, she clashed with something, making an oof sound as she hit the floor.

"Woah omncinci (little one)" Shuri chuckled as she picked her up and placed Nina on her hip.

"Look mama." Nina shoved her marker-stained hands into Shuri's face, "I made art!" Shuri laughed as she took her hand in hers.

"How lovely!" She smiled and kissed her on the cheek before dropping her back to the floor and she quickly took off again.

"Shuri, she's still got the-" Shuri handed you the marker she managed to slip from Ninas hands m. You sighed in relief.

"Calm down, usana, she's just having fun," you rolled your eyes, "she's constantly breaking or drawing on something, which is annoying because I have to clean it," she pouted, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you into her.

"Come on, it's not that bad, let her be, she's just a kid," she began to kiss your cheek then trailed down to your collar bone, you weren't feeling it so you gently pushed her away, leaving her with a puzzled expression.

"It's not fair, Shuri; you barely watch her." As if your words had offended her, she took a step back and let you go.

“Excuse me?”

Normally, you don't start arguments with her, but you were becoming fed up. Shuri loves and cares for her family, and she would give you the world if she could, but she sometimes forgets that you also need her home, not in the lab.

"You heard me Shuri, you haven't been home in days, you spend your time in the lab and then end up sleeping at the palace, we need you here with us, Nina needs you," her eyes darken and her brows furrow.

“I work hard for this family and my country so sorry I can’t be here twenty-four fucking seven, I have other concerns too and do not dare blame that on me you asked to move out the palace” you scoff l crossing your arms.

“Because I desired a more intimate home! Something that feels comfortable not with servants and guards around every corner, gossiping about our marriage and excuse me?! other concerns?! When you asked me keep Nina you told me we would be your first priority, that we’d come first!”

“You do come first! You and Nina both come first!”

You both stared at each other with your faces twisted in anger, you rarely argued like this but when you do it was bad, You were both extremely displeased with one another and needed some time alone.

“You know what Shuri I-“

“Mommy? Mama? Why are you two yelling, are you mad?” You quickly wiped your tears of anger off your face before turning to your daughter.

“Mommy’s going out for a while do you wanna come with or do you wanna stay with mama?” With out hesitation she ran over to Shuri which left an aching pain in your chest. She knew no better but of course she’d pick Shuri, she admires her so much.

“Alright well I’ll be back soon” you left a kiss on he cheek before walking in the kitchen to grab your purse. You needed to clear your mind so you hopped in the car and drove to a nearby cafe and called a friend to join.

“Girl she said what?!” You nodded assuring your friend of what you said was true.

"I know it sounds bad and I approached the situation wrong but every time without fail she lets her off the hook, and I'm the one looking like the bad guy. She spent three days in the palace this week and now wants to return home? I've been dealing with Nina's tantrums, drawing on things, and generally making a mess. I know she's a kid, and I love her, but when I try to discipline her, here comes the all-favored Shuri, who lets her have her way."

You friend shakes her head, “mmh mmh mmh you need a break.”

As you were about to speak again, your phone rang; you knew it was Shuri because she'd been blowing up your phone for the past hour, so you took your phone out of your purse.

“Aht!” Megan warned you, slapping your hand away from your purse.

"But, it could be an emergency; maybe I should just go home." Worry replaced guilt; what if Nina was hurt? What if Shuri needed help with her?

"Listen, you're married to the black panther, she can handle a six-year-old, trust me, you have nothing to worry about." Maybe she's right, you shouldn't feel guilty, you should feel relieved.

Megan grinned as she began to stand “You know what let’s go get a massage I know this great place not too far from here.”

Shuri

“Why isn’t she answering?!” I yelled in frustration as I slammed my phone on the table. Since y/n wanted to walk out with an attitude, I had to bring Nina to my lab which was a dreadful mistake. She’s been wreaking havoc on the entire lab, she’s manage to break two projects in the span of one hour… and they were made out of raw vibranium.

“Nina please i need you to sit still for mama ok?” She groaned plopping down on her bean bag chair near my work station, I sighed out of relief finally getting her to sit down.

Some time has passed and I managed to finish fixing my vibranium gauntlets, one of the items she broke. It was feeling a little too quiet for my liking so I went to take peek at Nina and she was gone, panic arose in my chest and that’s when I heard a giggle, damn it.

“Nina, my sweet heart I don’t have time for this please come out” another giggled could be heard before she spoke “you gotta come find me!” Bast she was going to drive me insane. I looked and looked but she was no where to be found, how far could she have gone in my lab?

“My queen she’s under that table” one of my scientists informed me sensing my frustration, as he pointed at the table and finally saw her. She just had to pick the table that was littered in sharp objects.

“Alright omncinci (little one) caught ya now please come from under there before you get hurt” she peeked from under it, looked me in my eye and told me no. I took a deep breath in trying not to loose my cool before speaking “Nina Udaku get from under this table this instant!”

“But mommy plays hid and seek with me!”

“Well mommy’s not here right now so come out now,” she grumbled as she began crawling out before she made it all the way out she let out an ear piercing scream.

“OW MAMA!” Frightened I quickly got on my knees and pulled her from under, “nkosazana (princess) what’s wrong, show me?!”

“Mama my hand, my hand!” She held out her hand to me, and in the palm of her hand a sharp piece of scrap metal was plunged in it, it wasn’t big but it was big enough to hurt her small hands.

“Oh baby come on let’s go fix this” y/n is going to kill me, I thought.

“I want mommy” she gripped onto my shirt with her uninjured hand as she cried, my heart sank.

Y/n

"Doesn't this feel good, girl?" Megan hummed as the masseuse worked on her back; it felt wonderful, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"I know that look, please tell me you're not thinking about going home," you pouted, realizing how accurate she was. "I'm sorry Meg, but I can't seem to shake this worried feeling, as if something happened, and what's making it worse is that Shuri has stopped blowing up my phone."

Were your girls ok? Should you have walked out like that? What if Nina needs you, what if Shuri needs you? Feeling fed up with the unknown you waved the masseuse away.

"Goddamn it, y/n, when are you going to relax?" Megan followed suit as you both took your robes. She's right, you can't ever relax, but that's part of being a mother; she doesn't have children and has no plans to have any, and you don't blame her; sometimes you even envy her, but you wouldn't trade your little Nina for the world.

"I'm sorry, Meg. I chose to be a mother, which means I have to deal with the consequences; don't get me wrong, I had a good time today, but we can hang out another time," she nodded, sighing.

"Well, tell my little spoiled niece I said hi," you chuckled, grabbing your clothes and purse, "I will."

When you got home, it was strangely quiet; they must have fallen asleep, you reasoned. So, before going to your room, you went into Nina's to check on her, and to your surprise, you found Shuri half asleep with Nina her arms. As you watched them sleep, your face softened.

"She wore you out, didn't she?" Shuri raised her head to look around the room, groaned in a stretch, and nodded.

"You have no idea," you chuckled as you sat on her bed, looking at your little girl and brushing her curls away from her face.

"When she's sleeping, she's so peaceful." Shuri agreed with a chuckle, "yeah when she's sleeping," and you laughed again. You reached for the blanket to cover her shivering body when you noticed her hand was wrapped in a white bandage.

"My baby, Shuri, what happened?" you cried as you lifted her tiny hand. She looked at you, Shuri's face was riddled with guilt "she got injured in the lab- I'm so sorry my love, I should've been watching her." You shook your head, not because you were disappointed with Shuri, but because you understood.

“Don’t worry my love I know. She slips away from you like that” you said snapping your fingers “it’s why I’m always chasing after her” she chuckled feeling relieved.

You kissed Nina’s forehead before getting up, “I think we should leave her to sleep come on” you both softly slid off Nina’s bed and quickly left shutting out the light.

“Look I’m sorry for what I said today you aren’t a bad mom” you reassured Shuri taking her hands to kiss the back of them, she smiled at your action.

“I know my love, and I deeply sorry too. You are also a great mother and now I understand why you’re so frustrated all the time. She’s a handful and I leave you to deal with it” you both sat at the edge of your shared bed feeling guilty about the words you spoke to each other in a time of anger.

You sigh looking down at your freshly painted toes “I was only feeling jealous that’s all.” Shuri’s head tilted in confusion at your bleak confession.

“Jealous? Of what my love? Nina adores you” you shook your head.

“No she adores you, you’re all she talks about, you’re like a hero to her, she wants to become a great scientist and super hero just like you she’s even working a project- which I wasn’t suppose to tell you about it” you remember as you made an oops face, Shuri chuckled pulling you into her lap.

“No you should’ve seen her today, you’re all she talked about ‘me and mommy bake cookies together, me and mommy play hide and seek, me and mommy watch vampire shows together, me and mommy paint together” you laughed a little too loud as she mimics your daughter “to be frank I was starting to become jealous, listening to her I felt like I was missing out a lot.”

You frown realizing something, Nina doesn’t need one parent at a time she needs both of you “I think we should start having designated family day,” Shuri nodded agreeing.

“Mommy you’re home?” You both turn to see your bedroom door open with little Nina standing there holding her blanket close to her chest. She cutely rubbed her eyes with a pout running over to you “I missed you mommy” She reached her hands up to you and you lifted her off the floor.

“Look mommy I have a scar just like mama, it hurt though” she raise her right hand to show you her bandaged hand.

“Awee my little brave girl” you kissed her palm and she giggle.

“Can I sleep in here tonight I miss both of you?” she asked as she crawled to head of you bed pulling the covers back so she could scoot under, you and Shuri chuckle as you watch her.

“Maybe one more won’t hurt,” Shuri looks at you with a hopeful face but you stare her in her eyes muttering a “no.” She sucks her teeth getting up “and you wonder where she gets her attitude from?”

“Hmm?!”

“Nothing.”

Taglist 💌: @abenomeiiii , @lustfulbarbie , @locoforshuri , @6-noir , @saintwrld ,

A/n: this bout to be my last Shuri x reader fic y’all some snitch ass bitches 😑

Shuri’s Masterlist

©heejayy 2023 — any reposts or translations of my works outside of tumblr are strictly prohibited unless granted permission 🤍

#shuri udaku #shuri x fem!reader #Shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri fluff #x black reader #ask heejayy #shuri x black!fem reader #Wakanda forever #black panther imagines

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liiilyevans · 10 months

Note

Dunno if this counts as a prompt but Hinny post Battle of Hogwarts?

send me a prompt

It does count! Also, I hope you're ready for some angst :)

Ginny lifted the bottle of Firewhiskey to her lips and took a long pull as she listened to the crickets on the back porch of the Burrow. They'd just gotten rid of all the guests from Fred's funeral, and now six in the evening felt like one in the morning. Maybe that was how alcohol made you feel. Mum would be pissed if she found Ginny like this, but she thought that if George was allowed to drink like this for a week leading up to the funeral, then she was allowed to drink like this after it ended.

As Ginny took another chug from the bottle, the back door opened.

"Go away, Mum," Ginny said. "Doesn't George need you more than me?"

"Your mum is still with George, even though I'm pretty sure he's passed out on the couch."

Ginny spun around and immediately regretted it. The world started to spin, and she had to grip her head to keep from puking. Gently hands took the bottle from her grip, and she heard it click against the porch. Heat radiated off of Harry as he sat down next to her and seeped into her.

"It was a good service."

"Please, don't."

Ginny didn't want to talk about Fred's funeral or how the service was nice or how George had managed to get through it without passing out. She wanted to forget this day existed, and she wanted to do that far away from the boy who had broken her heart a year ago trying to do the noble thing.

Harry swallowed, but he remained where he was. He probably felt awkward, she realized. He'd come out here to be nice and offer his condolences, possibly to let her cry on his shoulder, and she'd been abrasive. It was too bad. Harry had nice shoulders.

"You're right," he finally said. "The service was awful. Fred would have wanted at least on joke in there that scandalized your mother."

Ginny couldn't help the laugh that tumbled from her lips because he was right. Fred would have found that hilarious. Then her laughter was turning to tears, and Ginny couldn't stop the sobs that were spilling over her lips.

Suddenly, Harry wrapped her arms around her and tugged her against him. Ginny's fingers gripped his shirt so hard, she thought it would tear at the seams. The smell of grass and pine lodged itself in her throat. She thought she'd never be this close to Harry again, close enough that she could feel the heat of his skin against her cheek, close enough that she could smell him, close enough that she could feel his six o'clock shadow tickle her forehead.

"I'm sorry, Gin," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm so sorry."

Ginny thought she felt a tear drop onto her forehead.

Then a bright light was shining into her eyes, and Ginny yanked away from Harry savagely wiping at her eyes.

Ron stood in the doorway looking ashen and apologetic. "Oh, shit. Sorry."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, coming up behind him. She looked furious, even if there were dark circles under her eyes and they were rimmed red from tears.

"What?" he said. "I didn't know they were out here."

Quickly, Ginny stood up and started down the stairs, leaving the bottle of Firewhiskey with Harry.

"Ginny!" Hermione called after her. "Where are you going?"

"Ginny," Harry said softly.

Ginny spun around then, anger bubbling to the surface. Anger at the Death Eater who took her brother from her, anger at the fanatic who had used his puppets to terrorize her school all year, anger at the the three people standing before her for never really being there for her when she needed them most.

"Why don't you all just fuck off?" she said. "You're pretty good at that."

The shock on their faces didn't feel satisfying like she thought it would. Instead, she just felt self-disgust pool in her stomach, similar to how she felt when she'd realized that she was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets.

Then Ginny turned and marched toward the broom shed.

#i would say i'm sorry but i'm not #hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #i hope you enjoy!#answered #my writing

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ornii · 1 year

Note

hii don’t want to overwhelm you but if your free i was thinking my bitter half? i’m VERY invested.

My Better Bitter Half, Part 5

“Visions? Past or present?”

(Y/n) stood across his sister that night, both their arms folded against each other as they stand on the balcony.

“Sometimes both, I can’t particularly comprehend what these mean, besides bad omens.” Wednesday said, and (Y/n) furrows his eyebrows.

“These visions, they’re brought upon by anything specific?”

“No, the slightest touch brings these visions upon me.” Wednesday replies, you lean forward a bit, and gently poke her forhead, she stares daggers at you. Almost like a snake ready to strike.

“Nothing?” You ask.

“…No.” She replies almost in a growl from your poking.

“I was just checking.” You protest, your attitude quickly softens and you look at her.

“But seriously, if these visions cause you any pain or discomfort, I’ll do what I can to alleviate them.” You say, Wednesdays eyes darted from down to up at yours, a bit uncomfortable by your kindness.

“..Thank you, (Y/n).” She responds and you smile, eventually you lean against the balcony and ponder.

“The man who died in that car crash this morning, you knew because of your vision.” You say and Wednesday nods.

“I foresaw his demise. It was quite thrilling.” She says, before he can ask another question, Enid enters the room and the twins are interrupted by her spotting them and approaching, and she first notices the cello

“How the hell did you get that oversized violin out the window?” She says.

“It’s a Cello you—“ Wednesday says before she can insult Enid properly, (Y/n) interrupts, smiling a bit more seeing her.

“She had a pair of extra hands, or three.” You say, as thing crawls up your shoulder.

“Whoa. Where's the rest of him?” She asks, peering around.

“It's one of the great Addams family mysteries.” You say, “But, I should get going, let the new roommates get to know each other.” You step past your sister to leave but she quickly gets back in your way.

“Do Not leave me with her.” She says, you only smoke and gently pat her head.

“Sorry Mi Hermana, I have a life outside of you.” You step past and leave with thing, letting Wednesday awkwardly there with Enid, the two watch the night sky and the howling of wolves distract them, a conversation piece.

“Why aren't you wolfing out?” Wednesdays asks.

“Because I can't.” Enid said, and shows her nails which extend. “It's all I got. My mom says some wolves are late bloomers, but I've been to the best Lycanologist. I had to fly to Milwaukee, would you believe it? Yeah, she says there's a chance I may never... you know.” Enid said sadly, almost on the verge of tears.

“What happens then?”

“I'd become a lone wolf.”

“Sounds perfect.” Wednesdays says, much to the anger of Enid.

“Are you kidding me? My life would be officially over. I'd be kicked out of my family pack with no prospect of finding a mate!”

“I'm failing to see the problem here.”

“I could die alone.”

“We all die alone, Enid.”

“You really suck at this. Cheering people up.” Enid said, tears forming in her eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Wednesday asks..

“Because I'm upset! Haven't you ever cried, or are you above that too?” Enid sharply says, Wednesday sees the emotional turmoil Enid is in and decides to try and be helpful.

“It was the week after Halloween. I was six years old. I took my pet scorpion, Nero, out for his afternoon stroll, and we were ambushed. They wondered what kind of freak would have a scorpion for a pet. Two of them held me down and made me watch...while the others ran Nero over until...It was snowing when I buried what was left of him. I cried my little black heart out. But tears don't fix anything.

So I vowed to never do it again.” Wednesday says, Enid wipes a tear from her face.

“What did (Y/n) do?” She asks.

“He burned all of their houses down…” Wednesday responds, “As annoying, egotistical and overbearing as he is, he truly does care for me.” She said, and Enid laughs a bit.

“He really does love you, he talked a lot about you when he first came here. We had weird siblings so we bonded over it.” Enid says,Your secret's safe with me. Still think you're weird as sh¡t, though.”

“The feeling is incredibly mutual…How would you like your single room back? You just need to show me how to use your computer.”

Inside (Y/n)’s dorm, he was finishing up reading a script for a play. Before his roommate, Ajax enters.

“Duuuuuuude.” He says though his high as a kite mentality. You close the script and then turn your attention towards him.

“Yes?” You ask.

“You gotta try these brownies.”

“And melt my brain cells? No thank you.” You reply, Ajax shrugs and eats one. He sits on his bed and begins to let his mouth wander.

“So… I was hanging with Enid right?”

“Yup.” You say coldly. While your feelings for Enid were, strong, intense and you wish you could confess to the heavens your adoration, but, it’s hard. And Ajax isn’t making it any easier.

“Like she’s great and all, like super cute but how do I know she’s like, the one?” He asks you, gripping the script harder you take a deep breath and force a smile.

“Ajax, as riveting at this conversation is, I think you should have it with Enid.”

“I would but she’s away.”

“…Away where?” You ask, fearing Wednesday has “Taken care” of Enid.

“To the festival at Jericho, she went with your sister.” Ajax said. For a moment you look relieved, until you realize the open area.

“… Shit.” You quickly stand up and rush to your coat. Quickly putting it on, Ajax turns to face you, oblivious to what’s going on.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Jericho, I’ll catch a shuttle..” you say and storm off to find your sister before she goes off the grid.

Getting shuttled to the carnival, you step out of the vehicle and quickly scan the area. You begin to walk though lines and crowds searching, it’s easy as Wednesday, much like you stood out too much in a place full of color. Your eyes quickly scan and spot the black and white raven, who’s following Rowan into the forest. You angrily follow, pushing past the gloomy forest and eventually reach them, before you can yell, you watch Wednesday be levitated into the air. Rowan’s eyes focus so, insanely toward her.

“You're the one who's in danger.” He said.

“What are you doing?” Wednesday was able to speak though her confinement.

“Saving everyone from you. I have to kill you. Girl in the picture. That's you.”

“You want to kill me because of some picture?”

“My mother drew that picture 25 years ago when she was a student at Nevermore. She was a powerful Seer. Told me about it before she died.”

“Rowan, put her down!” You yell, he turns his attention to you running at him full force. Rowan flexed his other hand, sending you flying back into a tree, your head hits and ricochets like a ball and you hit the ground. Hard unconscious.

“No! My mother said it was my destiny to stop these two if they ever came to Nevermore, because they will destroy the school and everyone in it.” Rowan says, he prepares to kill Wednesday, (Y/n) opens his eyes and sits up, he stands and walks towards Rowan, as the power of the other Addams twin is shown. He turns around as he sees his body, lying on the ground. He turns back and walks to Rowan. Ready to suffocate Wednesday, Rowan grins, until his arm begins to shake violently. Something is stopping him, his entire body begins to convulse and stiffen up, Wednesday falls and catches her breath. She looks at Rowan, and he smirks.

“Are you alright?” “Rowan” asks her, Wednesday stands up.

“Why are you concerned for my health? You were just trying to kill me.”

“No, Rowan was, your dear brother saved you, you’re welcome.” Rowan says, as Wednesday comes to the realization who he is.

“(Y/n)”

“Guilty as Charged, now care to explain to me why you’re trying to escape now—“ you ask, suddenly you turn left to get tackled out of Rowan’s body. You hit the Spiritual ground as you hear flesh being torn, screams and echoes of pain rip though the air. After crawling back to your body you lie down, and awaken once more. You’re immediately greeted by your sister, making sure you’re you.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)?” She said, the concern in her voice was so, genuine. You sat up, holding your back, it seems slamming into that tree did more damage than you thought.

“Im here.” You say, a slight look of relief washes over her. You and Wednesdays look forward to see Rowan’s corpse, mangled and trashed with blood.

“Wednesday, what happened?” You ask, and she shows you this, page from a book. Of a witch, a pair, a Wizard and Witch together, seemingly facing an ongoing evil from what hellish land.

“…Your room.” You say, and Wednesday reluctantly agrees. The twins return back to Wednesdays dorm to analyze what information they have, the picture, and the arrest record of Their father, Gomez addams.

Suddenly, the Crystal Ball begins to cloud up, and Gomez and Morticia appear:

“Hello, my little black clouds, So tell us darling, how was your first week?” Gomez asks.

“Let's see. I narrowly avoided death twice, discovered that my father may be a murderer, learned that I could potentially destroy the school, and was mysteriously saved by a homicidal monster.” Wednesday thinks.

“As much as it pains me to admit, you were right, Mother. I think I'm going to love it here.” She says, and turns to you.

“So. No more plans to run away?”

“No brother, it seems we were destined to destroy this school… and I’d like to find out why.”

“Hm… well if it keeps you here, fine by me, let’s see what horrors this school has hidden.”

#netflix #male reader #reader insert #wedensday x you #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #platonic relationship #siblings #twins #the addams family

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a-fluffer-nutter · 4 months

Text

Dragon Darts

A/N - Hey @gladdygirl18 sorry it's taken so long, but I'm your Squealing Santa! I may have made the wrong turn and missed your chimney, but I am finally here with your present! I tried to get this done before the new year, but I've been sick for three weeks and my car just got broken into, so I'm super sorry about the delay! I hope you like it and I want to thank @squealing-santa and @hypahticklish for all of this!

Word Count: 1,260

Playing hide-and-seek with a man who owns two ghost-types was a poor choice, Raihan realized quickly into their game. He didn’t really expect Leon to cheat – well, yes he did, but he had some sort of hope for a fair game – and his smile slipped off his face once he heard Dragapult’s cry from the other room.

Raihan’s turn had gone perfectly. He had no need to use his Pokémon, it was just a simple game of hide-and-seek.

He didn’t quite remember how this little game came about, something about Leon boasting to be the best at all games played by children or something like that, but in an instant, Raihan wanted to call his bluff and Leon was scurrying off to hide.

For a man who had the worst sense of direction, Leon was actually fairly capable at finding a hiding spot. It took Raihan a good ten minutes to find him. It mostly took this long as Raihan had absolutely no idea that Leon could wedge himself behind the washing machine and the wall, but by golly did he do it. Raihan must have passed him a good twenty times before spotting him. After that performance, Raihan knew he had to up his game to beat Leon’s time.

Leon using his Pokémon was definitely cheating though.

Raihan took pride in his height, standing at a good six and a half feet. What people didn’t know is that despite his tall frame, he was incredibly flexible thanks to his slight build, which made clambering over the fridge and into a small cabinet not too difficult. He knew Leon would never check here, but all bets were off once Dragapult entered the game.

“Dragon Darts,” Leon whispered, while pointing down the hall. “Find him for me, if you will.”

Dragapult let out a low cry as he shot two Dreepy from his head. The duo cheered in delight as they sped through Raihan’s house, phasing through the walls as they flew. Leon chuckled as they went off, Dragapult still at his side.

“Am I cheating?” Leon asked, looking up at Dragapult. The Pokemon nodded with a grumble, which made Leon smile. “Well, I guess. Oh, well.”

Raihan could hear the Dreepy coming closer. The duo had split up to cover more ground, and one of them was making a beeline to the kitchen.

Raihan’s hands shook as the Dreepy flew around, zooming back and forth in front of his hiding spot. As anticipation swelled through his veins, Raihan threw his hands over his mouth, fearing the noise he could potentially utter if spooked by any sort of sound. The Dreepy paused after a few minutes of pacing the small kitchen. It let out a groan, which gave Raihan some hope that the ghost-type would just fly on into the next room, but of course he couldn’t be that lucky.

“Hi,” Raihan mouthed as the Dreepy phased through the cabinet door with half of his body. Eyes widening, the Dreepy let out a scream, flashing a toothy grin at the man. Sighing, Raihan reached out a hand to pet the darling Pokémon, knowing that it wasn’t its fault that Leon was playing dirty.

“Found you Raihan,” Leon called and Raihan could just visualize his cocky smirk he had as he walked into the kitchen. “Raihan, where…oh in Arceus’ name,” Leon let out a chuckle as he looked up at the Dreepy, which had now spun around so only the wispy back half was visible to Raihan, “How, Raihan, how?”

“Arsehole,” Raihan simply remarked as he heard Leon trying to scramble up the side of the counter. The door swung open; Leon’s face brightened sweetly once he saw Raihan in his tight hiding place.

“Well, that’s not very kind,” Leon prodded Raihan’s side while wearing a fake pout.

Raihan recoiled into the side of the cabinet, slamming his shoulder with all his weight. His lips quirked into a frown when he looked back at Leon, whose shit eating grin took over half his face.

“I’ll bloody stab you, mate. Leon!” Raihan let out a yelp once Leon poked him again.

“This is gonna be so much fun,” Leon laughed as he brought both hands down on his best friend’s torso.

Raihan definitely did not shriek, no. He could never do that. Never.

Cackling laughter poured from his lips as Leon skittered his fingers along any sensitive parts that he could reach. Due to Raihan’s positioning, he had his knees bent up and his feet pressed against the other side of the cabinet. This allowed all access to the backs of his thighs, and Leon was going to have a field day.

“You arsehole!” Raihan screamed as one hand scratched the underside of his thigh and the other wormed its way under his arm. In no position to move, Raihan just sunk as far back as he could and laughed.

“You’re not fighting back,” Leon mused, shifting his weight slightly. He was sitting on his knees, and while his legs were starting to ache, Leon could not let this opportunity pass. “What’s wrong? Are you stuck or do you just like this?”

Dragapult and the two Dreepy let out small huffs of amusement as Raihan just cursed, wiggling as much as he could. One of the two Dreepy had a brilliant idea, so he smacked his brother with excitement. The other Dreepy grumbled, frowning from being distracted from the delightful show they were watching, though he brightened up once his brother revealed his plan. Flapping his arms, the Dreepy let out a wail, following his brother into the cabinet right next to the one Raihan was in. Both phasing through the side of the cabinet, they appeared beside Raihan’s head, one on each side, and began to nuzzle into the trainer’s neck.

“Okay! Stahahp!” Raihan exclaimed after a few more minutes, his deep belly laughs were becoming hoarse and weak.

“Fine by me,” Leon snickered, pulling his arms back and jumped off the counter. “My arms were about to fall off!”

“Oh, boo hoo,” Raihan growled, though he still had a wobbly smile.

The two Dreepy flew down to Leon and purred, rubbing their bodies against his shoulders. Dragapult just rolled his eyes, though he had thoroughly enjoyed watching the shenanigans. This scene wasn’t too uncommon. Leon was always sweeping Raihan off his feet and throwing him onto the couch or against a wall to tickle the hell out of him. It was the big brother energy that he was always exerting, though Raihan was six months Leon’s senior. Dragapult often had to drag the two apart, along with Leon’s other Pokémon. Of course, Raihan’s Pokémon were usually present, but they never tried to help him. Only Flygon really cared, wanting Raihan to be victorious in these little fights, but her favor was usually won over by Leon rather quick, as he always kept little mints in his pocket that she loved.

“You are the absolute worst,” Raihan glared, looking down at his best friend.

“But that’s why you love me,” Leon batted his lashes.

“You know I’m going to kill you, right?”

“Yep.”

“Wanna make this easy or hard?”

“Bye,” Leon replied as an answer, as he darted off, blowing a raspberry as he ran.

“Of course,” Raihan rolled his eyes, then glanced over at Dragapult. The two Dreepy had returned to their spots atop Dragapult’s head, where they looked eager for more action. “Can you by chance to me a favor?”

Dragapult nodded, grumbling in amusement.

“Alright. Dragapult, use Dragon Darts.”

#tickle fic #rose writes #squealing santa 2k23 #squealing santa #pokemon #raihan #champion leon

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nicola-fiore · 5 months

Text

"We will be landing in approximately three hours, Mrs Fiore."

It was the evening of the 22nd of December and the flight attendant had just quietly informed her employer's wife of their journey's status.

"Thank you," Nicola replied with a smile before turning her attention towards the sleeping man beside her.

Gio's private jet was flying over the Atlantic Ocean, its luxurious interiors dimmed to help ease the couple into a restful sleep. But while her husband slept soundly, Nicola struggled to do the same.

But this wasn't the first time.

Since finding out that Gio had not seen his family for over five years, Nicola had been carrying that guilt everywhere she'd go. And every single day since, she had wanted to right that wrong. Racking her brain for weeks, she eventually came up with a nearly perfect plan — Christmas. What better gift is there than to be with your family for Christmas?

And so, Nicola planned their holiday meticulously.

Days before their flight, Nicola had told Gio that they were going on a holiday destination to celebrate their first Christmas as husband and wife. And though she arranged for all that, she also added a slight — but very necessary — secret detour.

Her real gift.

***

"Nic?"

Nicola took a second longer to respond, unable to tear her eyes off the Rolls Royce that was driving her husband away.

"Are you sure about this?*"

"Yes," Nicola replied without hesitation before finally turning to look her brother in the eye. Lorenzo had driven all the way from Milan to Laglio just to pick up his little sister. There was nobody else she trusted to help carry out her plan but him.

Only when the car she hired for her husband was completely out of view did Nicola climb into Lorenzo's. With a heavy heart, to sit there was all she could do not to cry. This was the first time she'd been apart from Gio since they'd gotten back together, and if truth be told, she had half the mind to ask her brother to turn the car around.

But she resisted every urge to do so, wanting nothing more than to reunite Gio with his family. Even just for the holidays. And if that meant biting the bullet, she'd do it. For him. Anything for him.

It was high time that Gio got to go home. And to ensure everyone's safety, she had to go back to hers.

***

Nicola spent the next few days with her father and brother in Milan, celebrating the holiday the best she could. Though she missed her husband dearly, she couldn't show any signs that would cause suspicion. Thankfully, Antonio Zanetta seemed happy enough to have both his children home for the holidays that he didn't seem too displeased when Nicola informed him that she needed to 'fly back to London' early for a school project that couldn't wait — a simple enough lie that would get her to Gio sooner. There was no way she was going to miss her first Christmas with her husband.

Unfortunately, Christmas dinner at her house took longer than expected, but thankfully Lorenzo had a need for speed that a usual hour and a half to Laglio was reduced to forty minutes. With barely an hour left to the day, Nicola finally found herself in Gio's room. And just like that, she was transported back six years ago when he would sometimes sneak her in.

Looking around, the room seemed empty. But his sister, Vienna, had told her that he'd retired early, so where could he be?

Nicola didn't have to wonder long. One step into the heart of the room and there she saw him, standing in his balcony smoking. With a glass of whisky in one hand and his phone in the other, he seemed busy, texting. For a moment, she said nothing, merely watching him. Until finally, he put his phone to his ear, and her familiar ringtone rang in her hand, his name flashing across the screen.

"Buon Natale, tesoro mio..." Nicola murmured, her voice carrying itself only the balcony, catching her husband's attention. "I'm sorry I'm so late, I—..."

Gio's lips had captured hers in a heated kiss before she could even get the rest of her words out. Three days. They were apart for just three days. But one breath of his kiss made it feel like it had been an eternity three times over.

"Never again..." Gio demanded, pleaded, as he tightened his embrace and swept her off her feet. It took three large strides for him to get to his bed, leaving a trail of their clothes in his wake. He needed no words to explain his pain further. She knew of that pain all too well.

"Never," Nicola promised her beloved, "ever again."

* All conversations are in Italian.

#[ nicola fiore || narrative 03 ]#[ nic & gio ]

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talesfromthesnogbox · 1 year

Text

I Was Wonderful

Summary: Steve thought maybe he'd be a basketball dad, he never thought he'd be a dance mom.

Rating: General

Word Count: 3,245

Notes: Hiya! This is a more fleshed out version of a thing I posted a few months back that ended up getting some traction. I haven't actually ever written for Steddie, sorry if the characterization is all over the place, I'm rusty!

Yes, this one did come to me midway through a Dance Moms rewatch. In all fairness, I grew up dancing so this fic was kind of inevitable. Hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link

~~~

Steve Harrington never saw himself as a girl dad.

After the dust settled with Vecna, and his crop of (now teenage) nuggets was safe, Steve went through a period of self discovery, or what Robin loves to call his “big gay awakening”. See, Steve Harrington was always a ladies man, no matter how much he struck out. So when he fell for one Eddie Munson, that was a shock to all, especially Steve.

But big gay awakening aside, Steve and Eddie were madly and completely in love, and Steve didn’t care who knew it. Nothing had ever felt more natural in his life than being with Eddie, they just made sense together. Even years after Steve’s heartfelt confession, the two were still in their honeymoon phase, so nobody was surprised when one sunny Fourth of July, they announced they were going to start the adoption process.

Neither of them knew what to expect. They went to Wayne for advice, having adopted Eddie legally after he was dropped off on his doorstep all those years ago, but this was different. Not too many agencies were too ecstatic about the idea of two “unmarried” men taking on a child together in the year 1993. The process was long and frustrating, and frankly, Eddie was ready to give up.

“It’s been two years, maybe it’s just not meant to be Stevie.”

Steve shook his head. “So then we push on through year three. It’ll happen Eddie, I know it.” He took Eddie’s hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing lightly.

“I just… Steve, I love you, and I wish I could give you the life you always wanted—”

“No, none of that Munson.” Steve cut him off. “Things change, I changed when I got to know you. I don’t need six little nuggets and a Winnebago to be happy. I need you and the life we have, and maybe a little bit of hope that one day we’ll find someone to take a chance on us.”

And suddenly, one day almost at the end of year three, someone finally took a chance on them.

Steve played with his ring nervously as he sat and waited in the office at the adoption agency (they couldn’t legally get married, but that wasn’t to say they couldn’t wear rings and call each other husband to show their commitment to each other). Eddie listened intently to the social worker, explaining that their application had been approved, that the little one didn’t have anywhere else to go and they thought their home would be a good fit. Steve’s heart pounded in his ears, only catching half the conversation.

“Her name is Rosie—”

“Sorry, her?” Steve cut him off.

“Yes, eleven month old Rosemary Evelyn, born August 13th, 1995. She was born premature, and her mother had some complications during birth and passed away shortly after. Her father surrendered her, and she’s been in our care for just under a week.” The social worker could see Steve’s face contort in confusion. “Is that a problem, Steve?”

He shook his head. “No I just… I never… how could… can we meet her?”

Steve Harrington never saw himself as a girl dad, until he met Rosemary Evelyn.

Tears sprung to Eddie’s eyes as they were ushered into the play room, a small babbling little girl with dark curly hair, big blue eyes, and chubby rosy cheeks stared up at them. She smiled when she met their eyes, and instantly, they were gone for her.

Within a week, the Harrington house was fully baby-proofed, and Rosie Harrington was moving in. Steve felt a sense of fulfillment wash over him seeing Eddie hold her. It had only been a few days, but he already knew Eddie was the best dad on the planet. A year passed, and then two, and Steve was absolutely positive that no other dad was as good, or kind, or loving as Eddie Munson.

But that frustrated the hell out of Steve.

One night, Steve collapsed on the couch next to Eddie, and exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “I don’t get it. She loves Metallica, she’s obsessed with Lord of the Rings, but she doesn’t even want to try basketball.”

Eddie laughed. “Stevie, she’s only just turned four, are you really sad you aren’t raising a jock?”

“No! I just want to be able to share something with her like you are.” Eddie saw right through his worry and tugged Steve down, laying his head across his lap.

“Baby, you’re nothing like your dad. You’re trying, you’re spending time with her, and she can see that, I promise you. Rosie loves you, and you’ll find something.” Eddie stroked Steve’s hair, seeing the worry dissipate. “Hey, Wayne is itching to see her before she starts preschool, why don’t we send her off to grandpa’s for the day, maybe he can get her to play ball or something.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, yeah I think she’d like that.”

When Eddie and Steve picked up Rosie from Wayne’s the next day, she wasn’t playing ball with him on the front lawn. Instead, their little girl ran to them in a droopy pink tutu and leotard with little ballet slippers. “Daddy! Daddy! Look what Grandpa Wayne gave me.” She was all smiles as she spun in place, nearly toppling over from lack of balance and excitement when Steve caught her.

“Wow princess, look at you!”

Wayne picked up a rogue sequin and grumbled. “Claudia was over earlier, they were showing something about Swan Lake on cable and the kiddo’s eyes lit up. We went for a walk downtown and looks like there’s a dance school that just opened up.”

Steve’s brows shot up. “Really? What do you think Rosie, should we go down there and see if they have any classes for you?”

That’s how Steve found himself a Saturday morning regular at Sparkle Steps Dance Centre. They had a routine down: the boys would wake her up, Steve would slick back Rosie’s hair into a delicate little ballet bun while she ate breakfast, they’d help her into her tights and leotard, tie her skirt, and pack her little shoes in her backpack and walk on over to the studio. Rosie would say hi to Ashley the receptionist, and hug Steve before her hour long 9am ballet class with Miss Abby in studio A.

“Good morning Melissa, Kelly, Jill.” Steve sat in his regular spot in the viewing room with the other moms.

“Morning Steve!”

Steve Harrington had become an enigma to the moms at the studio. They loved to gossip about where Rosie’s mother was, who she was, and why she was never seen with Steve at the studio. But Rosie always came in early, perfectly dressed, and well mannered despite her sass at home. Steve pretended he didn’t hear what the moms at the studio were saying about him; he was 33 with the same great hair he’d had in high school, and charm to go along with it. He wore a wedding ring, but never spoke of a significant other, it was always just Steve and Rosie.

Of course Eddie had wanted to join them, but wanted to give Steve space, have something that was his with their daughter, and he was perfectly happy to have a day to sleep in.

One of those quiet Saturday mornings, Rosie had insisted they stay after her ballet class to watch her new friend Rachel. “Daddy her feet make noise! Can I do that?”

Steve tilted his head as he watched the girls in the class stomp their feet and tap their toes. He knew Eddie would approve of the rhythmic sounds the tap shoes made, but worried it would be too much all at once. He looked to Melissa, “Rachel likes it?”

Melissa smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “She loves it, it keeps her busy and tires her out so she actually naps in the afternoon.”

Steve nodded in approval. “Let me think about it, okay Princess?”

As soon as they’d arrived home, Steve grabbed Eddie and dialled Dustin. “We need to talk, Rosie wants to start tap.”

“Tap, like the noisy shoes tap?” Eddie’s eyes lit up. “That’s metal as fuck, Gareth will probably want to teach her how to drum next once she’s got the rhythm.”

“Steve, you can’t take her out of ballet, it’s the foundation of all dance, she needs that foundation.” Dustin rebutted through the phone. The kid was way too invested in his niece’s interests, and that’s probably why he was her favourite uncle.

“No, no, she’d do both. Ballet and tap. But you don’t think that’ll overwhelm her will it? She’s only four.”

Eddie shook his head, and Dustin laughed. “Steve, she’s like the smartest kid I know aside from my own. She’ll do fine.”

“Dustin, your kid is like five months old.” Eddie chided him. “Stevie, Rosie is gonna be fine, let her do tap!”

Just like that, Steve’s one hour at the dance studio Saturday mornings became two. “She’s so excited for the next class.” He chatted happily with Melissa. “But I’m confused, the taps didn’t come screwed on.”

Melissa giggled. “No sweetie, you’ve gotta screw them on yourself. Do you have a toolkit in your car?”

Steve sighed. “Shit, no we walked here. Hold on, let me call someone.” He ran down to reception, Ashley granting him the phone, and prayed Eddie was out of bed. “Hey babe, I need a screwdriver…”

Twenty minutes later Eddie came barrelling up the stairs to the viewing room, Ashley hot on his tail. “Sir, that room is for parents only—”

“It’s okay Ashley! He’s with me.” Steve assured her, handing Eddie the shoe and the tap. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“No sweat, couldn’t let our little girl miss out on her first day of tap.” He kissed Steve’s cheek, not realizing three pairs of eyes on him.

Steve’s cheeks blazed red as Melissa, Kelly, and Jill eyed the matching ring on Eddie’s left hand, putting the pieces together. He cleared his throat and gestured to Eddie. “Um, ladies this is Eddie, my husband.”

“Oh, husband!” Jill sidled up beside them. “Very nice to meet you Eddie, Steve has told us nothing about you.”

Eddie chuckled. “No glowing review big boy?”

Steve hung his head. “Not everyone in Hawkins is so open minded…”

Eddie and Steve spent the rest of the hour telling the moms about how they got together, their small wedding ceremony in the Byers’ backyard, and how they’d adopted Rosie. By the time the ballet class had ended, the moms had adopted Eddie as one of their own just as they had Steve. Before long, Eddie was joining Steve and Rosie on Saturday mornings at the studio.

Autumn flew quickly, Christmas came and went, and once the new year hit, recital talk began. Rosie really took to her lessons, she raised her hand when she didn’t understand something, and Steve took to practicing her routines with her at home, even if he didn’t fully understand what he was doing.

“Remember what miss Abby told you, shoulders down, chin up, soft hands, stretch your feet, okay?”

Rosie nodded, kissing Steve’s cheek and disappearing through the doorway of studio A.

“Moms? Can you join me in the studio please?” Miss Abby beckoned to the adults. They all followed dutifully, taking off their shoes and lining up at the barre. “As you all know, recital season is quickly approaching. We’ll be putting in orders for the tutus and their tap costumes, but they’ll need to be modified. Proper buns for the recital and light stage makeup, clean pink tights for ballet, and nude tights for tap. Got it?”

The moms and Steve nodded as they were dismissed, making a mental note of what he needed. “Melissa, when she says modified…?”

“Oh you know, glitter, rhinestones, the usual.”

“Right, the usual, cool.”

Steve’s head was in the clouds until he returned home; Eddie, always the observant one, could see the panic on his face.

“Babe I think we’re in over our heads with this dance thing. I need to modify costumes now?”

Eddie frowned. “Modify how?” Steve relayed what Melissa had said, panic stricken. “Steven, that’s nothing. Did you forget I used to make whole costumes for the party for DnD? I got this.”

The day the costumes arrived, Eddie finally felt totally in his element with the moms. He’d brought along his whole costume kit, much to the surprise of the moms, showing them how well his fabric glue held, and teaching them the best stitches to ensure no elastics snapped off their daughters’ ballet slippers. For once, he was the star parent, and a huge wave of pride rolled off Steve as miss Abby complimented Eddie’s tailoring work on Rosie’s costumes.

Eddie tagging along to the studio meant Steve had backup learning Rosie’s routines. His memory was sharper than Steve’s was, and he was surprisingly more competitive. They worked together to support their little dancer, Steve would wake up early with her and stretch before their day began, Eddie would help her run through her routines before bed each night. One day after work at the body shop, Eddie brought home a large slab of wood, sanded and stained and perfect for practicing with tap shoes on, and a pair of the noisy shoes for himself, knowing he could help his girl better if he could do the steps with her. Steve stood behind them watching Eddie coach Rosie through the steps, counting them out for her as she danced.

“ONE and TWO and THREE-EE and a FOUR. Don’t forget that brush in there, stay on your toes don’t drop your heels, yes that’s it!”

Steve chuckled and decided it was time to intervene, hitting pause on the tape. “Alright twinkletoes, bath and then bed.”

Eddie picked her up, depositing her on the couch and helping her take off her shoes. “Daddy did you see, I did the whole dance without forgetting the next step!”

“I saw princess, you’re doing wonderful! And what do you say to dad for helping you run through your routines?”

Rosie kissed Eddie on the cheek and threw her little arms around his neck. “Thank you Dad, I love you.”

“I love you too kiddo, I’m so proud of you.” He peppered her face with kisses, tossing her noisy shoes onto the tap board. “Now go take a bath, you stink.”

She giggled, running to her room to grab her bathrobe.

“You’re incredible.” Steve hugged Eddie from behind.

“I dunno man, her technique is better than mine will ever be—”

Steve squeezed him harder and whispered lowly in Eddie’s ear. “Shut up, you know I’m not talking about the dancing. You. Are. An amazing. Father. And I love you, so fucking much.”

Eddie turned in his arms and caught Steve in a searing kiss. “She’s an amazing kid, she’s our amazing kid. And I love you too.” He pulled his husband in as close as he could, reconnecting their lips in another toe curling kiss.

“Ew! That’s so gross!”

Eddie chuckled, pulling away. “Guess this will have to wait until after bath time.”

“Holding you to that Munson. Now come on, time to bathe the gremlin.”

The early June recital weekend came faster than anyone was prepared for, and the boys were panicking.

“Stevie, are you sure we’re supposed to put makeup on her? She’s just a kid.”

“Eddie relax. Abby said light stage makeup. It’s probably just so the lights don’t wash her out. Gotta see that beautiful face from the back of the theatre.” Steve kissed Rosie’s cheek and swiped on some more blush. “But just for dance, you got that? No makeup until you’re older. Your beautiful skin doesn’t need all that gunk on it.”

Rosie nodded dutifully and closed her eyes as Steve applied a thick layer of eyeliner.

“There, what do you think?”

Eddie turned his head sideways and frowned. “Baby I think you went a little too heavy on the cheeks.”

“God you’re right, we’re hopeless.”

“It’s okay Daddy, Auntie Nancy can fix it when she brings me to the stage door.”

He patted the top of her head, careful not to disrupt her perfectly slicked back hair. “Auntie Nancy will make you look perfect. Come on, let’s wipe this off before she gets here.”

Nancy and Robin took Rosie to the stage door while Eddie, Steve, Wayne, and Claudia found their seats. As soon as 7:00 hit, the house lights went down, and the show was starting. Rosie’s ballet routine was right after the opening number, and Steve hadn’t been so nervous in a long time. As the music faded out and the lights changed, he took Eddie’s hand and squeezed, feeling his husband squeeze back.

After what felt like hours, Rosie’s ballet music started. A chorus of “Awww” spread out amongst the audience as the four little girls scurried out in their rhinestoned tutus, big smiles on their faces. Steve barely saw the routine he knew so well; his eyes glistened with tears seeing Rosie on stage, confidently dancing just like they’d practiced. Chin up, shoulders down, soft hands, feet stretched. Eddie on the other hand had his lips pursed, watching her intently as she made it through a particularly difficult stretch of the routine. “Yes!” He whispered when she landed her pirouette, perfectly spotting the back wall just as Steve had reminded her to. The number was over too soon, and Steve was whispering “I love you” towards the stage as applause broke out and their daughter exited stage right.

Steve wiped his tears, subtly kissing the back of Eddie’s hand. They could relax until intermission, Rosie’s tap number wasn’t until the second half of the show.

The tap number turned out to be a hit. Steve didn’t expect to still be emotional watching his girl on stage, but the tears came nonetheless. Eddie was more tense for this one, listening to all her sounds, counting out the music as they danced. “That’s my girl!” He shouted as Melissa and Jill whooped on the other side of him as Rosie landed her pickups. Wayne quietly handed Steve a tissue, sporting one of his own in his shirt sleeve as the girls finished their routine and flapped off the stage.

Just like that, the show was over, and it was time to collect their little dancer.

“Daddies! Grandpa Wayne!” Rosie came running towards them, hugging Wayne around the leg.

“Did you see Auntie Claudia, Nancy, and Robin came too?”

She nodded enthusiastically, passing hugs around to all of them. Her eyes lit up as Wayne handed her a bouquet of roses, and Robin a little teddy bear in a tutu, congratulating her on a great show. She’d had a big day, and Steve could tell she was exhausted.

“Here princess, let me take those for you.” He took the bouquet as Eddie picked her up, her little head falling to his shoulder. Glitter rained down Eddie’s right side, sticking itself to the ends of his hair and his worn leather jacket. Steve chuckled sympathetically, brushing what he could from his back as they took her out to the car.

“Hey Daddy guess what?”

“What’s up, princess?” Steve opened the lobby door, letting Eddie and their sleepy dancer through first.

“I was wonderful.”

The boys chuckled, Eddie kissing the top of her head. “You were baby, you were.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddie dads #girl dads steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie muson #stranger things fic #my writing

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karolinesvrsion · 2 years

Text

just this once, okay? | bruce yamada x fem!reader

part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven part eight part nine PART TEN

y'all im so sorry i disappeared with no warning but i've been like a disgusting amount of sick this past week, but i'm back and finally publishing the last chapter of this series YAY okay bye

there's also a clara reid playlist now because i love her sm, you should go check it out OKAY BYE.

taglist: @bettyssneaker @ellemfaoh @finneysbaseball @urfavkorean @retirement-home @sweetrabbit @inumakihearts @zekegorilla @godscnt

when a crushing and helpless bruce yamada seeks aid from an unaware and breezy y/n, he suggests they fake date in order to make his crush jealous. what could go wrong? they were friendly, and y/n was beautiful. bruce’s plan is fool proof. at least that’s what he thinks.

a/n: for the sake of the story, everyone is the same age (16-17) and in junior year of high school, except gwen, who is a freshman. and the grabber doesn't exist because i said so.

❦

"um, can we talk?"

you stood there, mouth opening and closing multiple times. about a million thoughts ran through your head, each making you more nervous. your mouth felt dry, your hands felt clammy, and your cheeks were burning.

"y/n?" bruce's soft voice called, snapping you out of your trance. "you okay?"

"yeah, yeah, i'm okay, i just, um," you stumbled, raising your embarrassment level from one to ten, "yeah, let's talk."

bruce let out a sigh of relief, swaying side to side as he waited for you to step out. "wanna go to the library? or we can go to the old playground, if you want."

you two decided on the playground, seeing as the weather was perfect for it. your hair billowed with the wind, and bruce tried not to stare at your rosy cheeks.

you sat down on one of the rusty swings, kicking a few rocks as you did so. bruce took a seat on the one next to yours, watching as the birds flew around, their wings spread out beautifully.

it was a bit odd, sitting there with bruce, neither of you saying a single word, but also rather comforting. it had been a while since the two of you were in one another's company like this, and you had to admit that you missed it.

"so, i talked to clara." bruce spoke up, looking over at you.

your heart sped up, and you found yourself praying for the worst. "oh, you did? what did she say?"

bruce fixed his posture, straightening up. "well, she didn't have a crush on me."

"she didn't?" your face scrunched in confusion. "but then, who did she have a crush on— oh." bruce snickered at this, covering his mouth with his hand. "me? clara liked me?"

"yes, she did." bruce smiled comfortingly.

"me? really?" you grinned lightly, making bruce a little nervous.

"oh, do you like girls too?" he asked. "because if you do, that's totally okay, and i won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."

"no, bruce, it's okay, i don't— well, it's not that." you interrupted, placing your hand on his forearm. "i actually have to talk to you about something."

"wait, let me go first." bruce cut in urgently. "i've wanted to tell you this for a while now, actually, but i always stopped myself because i was too scared, but y'know, i'm not scared anymore, so, yeah!"

you blinked multiple times, hoping he could see that you were beyond confused.

"right, sorry." he said, running his hand across his face in exasperation. "okay. here goes, y/n." you placed your chin in your hand, letting bruce know that you were intrigued. "i like you. like, really, like you, like, it's almost embarrassing how much i like you, and it really killed me when you ended the plan and left, because i was gonna tell you right then and there, but, yeah."

your jaw dropped, and you were frozen in your seat. your mouth couldn't form any sort of sounds, even though all you wanted to do in that moment was throw your arms around him and tell him the feeling is mutual.

in reaction to your silence— and expression— bruce's shoulders fell, and he began to stand up. "but i totally understand that you don't feel the same way, and that's okay, we can stay friends—"

"what? i don't want to be friends!" you exclaimed, kicking another rock.

bruce stood up, beginning to walk away. "well, that's real nice. you could've just said 'no thanks' or something."

"no!" you said, grabbing his hand quickly. "what i mean is, i like you too. the feeling is mutual, or whatever— look, the point is, i really like you, bruce. in the most embarrassing way possible, i like you. so, no, i don't want to be 'just friends' anymore."

bruce grinned, taking a step towards you. "you mean it? you're not just saying this out of pity, are you?"

"bruce!" you chuckled, slapping his arm gently.

his smile widened, and he picked you up in his arms tightly, spinning you around happily. "after we started the whole fake-dating plan it was like i never even liked clara. i like you. like, really like you."

"well, why didn't you just tell me that?" you said.

"i didn't want to ruin this. i really love hanging out with you, and i didn't want to lose you." bruce smiled sheepishly.

"aw, that's so corny." you teased.

"yeah, i guess you're right." bruce shrugged. "well, do you wanna be my girlfriend? for real this time?"

"well, duh!" you grinned, wrapping your arms around him. "vance is gonna be thrilled to hear this, y'know?"

"was that sarcastic or serious?" bruce asked— genuinely curious.

"serious, for the most part." you said. "he's been listening to me talk about this for a while now, so, i might owe him a couple of pinball games and slushies."

"sucks to be you, then." bruce teased, earning an elbow to the rib from you. "fine, i'll help out." he placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you slightly to face him. "can i kiss you for real this time?"

you nodded, eyes fluttering closed as bruce leaned in slowly. somehow, it felt both the same and different than the kiss you shared at donna's birthday party. your lips moved in sync with his, sending a wave of electricity down your spine.

the two of you pulled apart shortly after, resting your foreheads together. bruce was as giddy as a little kid on christmas, and you were beyond happy. everything was perfect, and now all you had left to do was explain everything to your families.

your parents were beyond confused as you and bruce explained everything. wyatt and allie couldn't have cared less about the explanation, but allie was thrilled to have her puzzle buddy back.

mr. and mrs. yamada's expressions were blank when you and bruce sat down and talked to them. amy was chewing gum with the most judgmental look on her face. nonetheless, they all understood.

you took the liberty of explaining to vance, finney, and robin, who all cheered for you supportively. finney and robin did a happy dance while vance brought you in for a hug— something almost as rare as a shooting star.

going back to school on monday was somewhat exciting for you and bruce. over the weekend, word had spread that the two of you had gotten back together. (you all figured it would be best not to explain the fake-dating situation to anyone else.)

you walked in with griffin— who made it a habit in his year of sixth grade to walk along with you to stay close. once he walked off with his friends, you made your way to your locker, where bruce was waiting.

"hey, you!" he called, grinning widely. one of his hands held the chunky english textbook, and the other was held out for you to hold, which you did, of course.

"you're awfully giddy today." you pointed out, making his smile grow even more.

"it's not fake anymore, y/n/n." he whispered, leaning closer to you. "this isn't fake anymore, of course i'm giddy."

the rest of the day went by exactly like this, with you and bruce by one another's side whenever possible, and vance rolling his eyes at every cute thing you did.

during lunch, you spotted donna and clara eating together at the old picnic tables. you noticed the hand-holding, but chose not to say anything as it would be rude.

when you caught donna's eye, she grinned widely, all but confirming your suspicion. you were happy that donna and clara were together, they both deserved to be happy.

later that day, you went over to donna's house, where she spilled the beans about her and clara. "yes, we're dating, but we don't want to tell anyone yet! you know how rude people can be, and besides, we've only been dating for a couple of days, it's still new." she gushed, her cheeks a tinge of pink.

lucas wouldn't stop teasing bruce all day, saying 'i told you so' every five seconds. at one point, vance told him to 'shut up about it, already,' which ended the playful banter.

"hey, y/n," bruce turned to you in physics class, "will you give me the answer to number nine? please?"

you raised an eyebrow at him, only receiving pleading eyes in return. "fine, but, just this once, okay?"

#bruce yamada #bruce yamada x reader #finney blake #gwen blake #pinball vance #robin arellano #the black phone #tristan pravong #vance hopper #billy showalter #donna the black phone #clara reid #just this once okay?#griffin stagg

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jamneuromain · 2 years

Text

Mr. & Mrs. Levinson

Ari Levinson x Original Female Character (Anna)

Warning: Angst and Smut, Eventual Smut, Graphic Depiction of Violence, Domestic Violence (sort of), Cursing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex.

A fusion of Mr. & Mrs. Smith.

Word count: 11k.

Summary: Being enemies saved their marriage.

3 p.m.

"How long have you been married?"

"Six years." "Seven years." They said at the same time, not forgetting to glance at each other when they heard the other's answer.

"Six or seven years." Ari chose what he thought was a compromising answer and cleared his throat, "Actually, we've been married for so long that this is just a routine checkup, you know? Similar to changing the oil, parts, or whatever for an airplane."

The marriage therapist kept his unchanging smile, gazing at the man as strong as a bear - and as hairy as a bear - and the petite woman beside him, "Sure, so let's pop the hood." He flipped open the notepad for his records and wrote something on it, "Let's start with the basics. How would you rate your marriage on a scale of one to ten?"

"Eight." "Uh, is ten is the highest score or...?"

Ari frowned and looked at his wife, who had been with him for six or seven years, sitting by his side: "He said one to ten, honey."

Anna leaned unhurriedly on the couch pillows, the very direction away from Ari: "I was just making sure. Don’t want to give the wrong answer, sweetheart."

The therapist cap the pen and snapped both of them back to attention, "That's okay, let's try again. Ten is the highest score. Are you ready? Three, two, one..."

"Eight." They both answered in unison.

"How is your sex life?" The therapist asked the next question.

Anna rubbed her fingers at the tip of her curly hair and paused for a moment upon hearing the question, "I'm sorry, is this a one to ten question or...?"

The therapist explained, "Just this week, how is your sex life? Oh, and feel free to rate it or just say how you feel about it."

Ari and Anna were uncharacteristically silent.

"Including weekends?" Ari asked, his furrowed brow not loosening.

"Including weekends."

Anna nodded thoughtfully.

They didn’t have sex this week. Neither did they last week. Nor did the week before.

How is one supposed to rate something non-existent?

She tried to remember the last time they'd had sex, which was about a month ago, and they'd both been drinking a little. She remembered they stopped midway. Why did they stop midway?

She remembered that she had gone to the training room to practice boxing before that and accidentally bruised her rear end. She asked him to turn off the lights in between kisses, and he thought it was no big deal, it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other naked. In the end, a simple question of turning off the lights made them break up the kiss and lose the passion to continue.

Ari always ripped orgasms after orgasms from her. It was all about passion and crude rough sex and it was fun.

It was.

Until the passion faded. And he lost his interest over a little question whether to turn off the lights.

Anna returned home, took off her silver wedding ring and put it away on the nightstand. She was fucking tired of everything. She promised Ari to try to see a therapist to salvage their marriage, but she also wanted to throw the fruit bowl in his face and tell him that marriage maintenance is not something she could do alone. She was tired of playing the good housewife at home while he came home some nights smelling of booze and women perfume and God knew where he had been fooling around. The only thing this jerk did well was that he never came home to her with signs of cheating on her: no hair, no lipstick marks, no nothing, as if the escort grinded on him and nothing more. She was tired of him always being the one making decisions, telling her what to do, even including this ridiculous therapy, which she thought was absolutely useless.

She wrinkled her apron, tossed clean frying pans and dishes into the sink to get them wet, then sat up on the bed and called for takeout.

She basically hadn't cooked in seven years of marriage, and she wasn't going to today.

At 7 p.m., Ari came home on time.

"Good evening honey." He greeted her without looking up as he returned the steady stream of texts with one hand. On the other end of the phone was his DHS supervisor, sending him some key information for his next mission.

Anna had the frilly apron on her and spatula in hand, wanted to open her mouth to greet him, but was furious at the way he greeted her without even lifting his head. She turned temporarily back to the kitchen and sprinkled more sugar and salt on one of the steaks frying in the pan to make sure it was cooked until it was overcooked.

Ari hung up his coat and wondered if the kitchen noise was too loud to muffle his greeting. He stowed his phone properly in his pocket and leaned against the kitchen doorway, raising his voice slightly: "Good evening, honey."

Anna flashed him an impeccable smile, "Good evening. Go wash your hands, dinner will be on the table in a minute." Only when he was completely out of sight did the smile on Anna's face collapse, the meat cleaver in her hand stabbing an inch into the wooden chopping board. A greeting without even looking up? Did his mother ever teach him manners?

At the dinner table, Ari and Anna engaged in some routine small talk, such as Anna asking him how his day went and if he encountered any tough problems; Ari asked Anna back if she had a good day in Wall Street.

Anna was a financial analyst on Wall Street, at least, that was her cover. True, her workplace was located in a tall building on Wall Street, but that floor was used for surveillance, analysis and operational planning by the NSA, of which she is a member. After years of hard work, Anna had successfully risen to the position of chief of operations for the NSA's New York State Division. Most of the time she sat in her office facing the computer as she would if she were a financial analyst, but there were times when she needed to be on the ground to solve some variables during missions.

Across the table, Ari sliced off a piece of beef with some brute force and popped it into his mouth. The sweet and salty flavor instantly overwhelmed all his taste buds and he choked and coughed. He spat out the unchewable beef and wiped his mouth with a napkin: "Honey, the beef is too salty."

Anna tugged her lips into a light smile, a smile she felt a bit sorry for Ari: "Really?" She immediately added, "I'll put less salt next time."

Ari was tempted to say you should stop cooking, you haven't cooked well in the past six years. But for the sake of marital harmony, he chose to swallow the words along with the sweet and salty taste in his mouth. He made do with a barely palatable selection of vegetables and mashed potatoes and ate his dinner swiftly. Barely palatable. That was his euphemistic comment.

Ari's long, thick fingers lingered on the keyboard for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. Honestly, he wondered how much longer their marriage would last. Two months? Three weeks? Four days? Their passion was no longer there, replaced by endless tedium. He believed they still loved each other, yet every day of marriage life was a wear and tear on that love. What they need was not novelty, which no longer had any place after the first six months of marriage. What they need was something that will sustain their relationship for a long time, the glue that will hold their broken lives together. He had to admit that the lack of togetherness was also a reason why their marriage was coming to an end, but there was no way he could make his schedule change. After all, the mission wouldn't pick his “supposedly” working hours to show up. He had to find one excuses after another: a temporary plane breakdown at the airport, a nice weekend with his fellow mechanics, a farewell to a fellow who was leaving.

This fake identity of an aircraft repair mechanic was not solid enough, but it's the best he can do. Ari sighed and tapped down two or three lines of a mission report.

"Hi, sweetheart. I got your coffee."

Anna appeared silently in front of his computer with a steaming cup of coffee: "What are you working on?"

"Jesus." he was startled by her sudden appearance and hit Alt and Tab simultaneously, "Nothing, honey, just the schematics."

"Oh, okay," she walked around the mahogany table and put her coffee in his hand, her eyes glancing at the computer screen. "Yeah SURE." Her big brown eyes lost that glint of smile, "I'll leave you alone."

Ari stiffly turned his head to look at the pornhub interface he had fumbled to place on the main screen, which contained the video of a topless woman bouncing up and down on a rubber dildo. Ari had no fucking idea why it was here, nor had he any interest of watching a woman fucking herself with a toy - apart from Anna.

This is definitely one of his most embarrassing moments. He lied to her about work, only to let her “find out” he was watching porn.

Great.

Just fucking great.

He rubbed his face with his palm: "Wait, Anna-"

Anna left the study without looking back: "You’ll sleep in the second bedroom tonight."

Less than half an hour later, Anna answered a phone call.

"Sorry, some shareholders in Wall Street is holding an emergency meeting, I need to go check." She calmly packed her handbag, put on her coat and left in a hurry.

Only after she left did Ari remember the party at Gray's house next door in an hour. They had promised to go last week.

The text he sent instead seemed cold and indifferent: "Don't forget Gray's party at nine."

"Okay."

Her reply was even briefer.

"Your man?" Jennifer, dressed in plain clothes, joked about it before Anna pressed the lock button on her phone.

Anna tied her hair up, avoided the question:" Do you know any divorce lawyer?"

Jennifer thought for a moment, "I remember Natalie from the other department almost got divorced," she took out her work tablet and cross-referenced everyone's schedules, "I'll set up a meeting for you with her tomorrow at 10:30, I think she's free at that time. "

"Jenni-"

Anna hadn't actually thought about finding a lawyer. Marital property, prenuptial property, real estate ...... Gosh, they didn't have a prenuptial agreement. Now that she thought about it, it was an unforgivable mistake for them to get married.

At least not signing a prenup accounted for eighty-nine percent of the mistake.

She made that number up, but she quickly made up the remaining eleven percent.

Ten percent was his frequent disappearances.

One percent was their size difference.

"It's already booked." Jennifer arranged it without a word, "Besides, what could go wrong with just talking?" They spoke as they made the final adjustments before the mission began.

"The target is Friedrik Karls Vogelbaum, male, sixty-five years old. Our mission is to transfer a flash drive from the target containing information of a new biological virus, sufficient to destroy a half of the Earth's population. Note that Mr. Vogelbaum has just lost a deal with an international arms dealer Morian, so he will do everything in his power to protect the case containing the flash drive, and there may be multiple parties coming to seize it. I expect everyone to cooperate properly in recovering the high-risk item, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Everyone in the tiny camouflaged van responded in unison.

"Very well." Anna sat in the middle of the chair as electronic screens lit up around the perimeter showing various street-level surveillance, Anna adjusted her headset, "Agent Weiss, do you copy?"

"Very clear, Agent."

Anna switched the headset channel and methodically gave one order after another, "I want the traffic lights at 15th Street and Northwest Avenue locked so the target can't cross the street; standard follow up, one up front and one behind the target, don't draw any unnecessary attention. Do we have eyes across the street? Good. "

Inside the tiny van, the four mission support members of the operation team held their breath.

The plan was to set an agent to attract Vogelbaum's attention, followed by a second agent to switch the case.

Unfortunately, Vogelbaum held the case so tightly the entire time, that the team had to improvise a surprise by having someone on a bicycle run Vogelbaum over and then take advantage of their distraction to swap the case.

The mission went very well overall.

Except for Anna, who pretended to be a passerby to help the bike-riding agent out of trouble, which wasn't exactly pleasant. She had to pretend to be surprised by asking Vogelbaum if he was international movie star Mads Mikkelsen, asking him to pose for a photo and sign a napkin. Otherwise, judging by the way Vogelbaum grabbed the cycling agent and looked him in the eyes, it would not end well.

She took off the beanie she'd pulled off randomly on the street and Jennifer's big black-rimmed glasses and returned to the van. Jennifer handed her a tissue to help her wipe away the fake freckles and moles, temporarily dotted with a marker on her only mere seconds ago.

"Thanks." Anna smoothly put the marker in her pocket and borrowed some water to clean her face.

Agent Weiss and two others circled back to the NSA's New York headquarters and opened the case as the entire ops team watched.

The case was empty.

Max Grey is one of those typical neighbors you want next-door. If Max lives in some lucky neighborhood, then everyone not only enjoys a barbecue party every month or two, but also receives the occasional cake, cookie or pie from his wife.

Max and his wife, Loreen Gray, don't have any noisy children yet. Admittedly, they are preparing to have one, but not yet. That's something that makes them better neighbors.

The Levinsons showed up at Gray's door with smiles on their faces, even though they were late. The Grays were kind enough to let them join the house party, and Max shoved a cold beer in Ari's hand and invited him to sit on the “men's side”. Sometimes, Ari wished he wasn't so big. He looked like he's the boss of some notorious biker gang in his form-fitting leather jacket. And some obvious male psychology suggested that all the men in the room were trying for the Alpha position in the crowd. This meant most of the men would be hostile to him from the moment he entered the room. But his years as a secret agent have allowed Ari to blend in like a fish in water, picking up a few jokes, clinking glasses (or bottles, in this case) with the men around him, and showing a funny but not overly standing-out profile to the others.

He raises his beer bottle to his lips and looks across the living room to the "ladies' side," where Anna was with Loreen, sat among all the ladies with bubbly water. She looked a bit overwhelmed, he thought as he swallowed his cold beer.

Anna was indeed very overwhelmed.

For the love of the computer gods, moms and soon-to-be moms all around are fucking talking about having kids and raising kids and nursing kids. Anna was an only child and had very little contact with her bloodsucking relatives, and she was surrounded by partying and clubbing women - in short, no one had children, not her friends, not her family, certainly not herself. She also did not know how to raise children, this kind of topic she naturally did not have the slightest clue.

Mrs. Brown, who lived across the street from the Levinsons, needed to go to the bathroom. She handed Anna Teddy Brown, her one-year old son and rushed off. Loreen, however, gave Anna a chance to be a mom, which included ideas on how to hold the little one and how to make him laugh. The more she listened, the more Anna suspects that Loreen was partly encouraging her to become a mother. Anna's hand was free to poke Teddy's fleshy cheek, but Teddy flattened his mouth, lost interest in the toy and the stranger, and turned around to cry for his mom.

Fortunately, Mrs. Brown came back in time to take the hot potato away from Anna.

So much for having a kid and enjoying the domestic life.

"Why are you home late today?" Ari asked as they washed up before bedtime, spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste foam.

Anna put on a hydrating mask, smeared essence on her neck and said carelessly, "The shareholders were arguing about the final investment decision."

"So they finally agreed?"

"Can't tell you that, sweetheart," Anna braided her medium-length hair and her tone grew vaguely impatient, "I've told you. The BRC prevents people working in finance-related industries from disclosing relative information."

Anna's impatience stemmed not only from something Ari could never remember, but also from the fact that she had been scolded by her boss at the end of today's mission. Of course, she excused her team and took the blame for the problem. They had repeatedly gone over the surveillance footage of the mission, and found that every step of the mission was accurate, so it could only be that their intelligence had been faulty. Looks like another organization had targeted the highly dangerous biological information Vogelbaum was carrying and taken the flash drive before they did.

Her boss, Mr. Samson, also knew this. Yet the loss of the flash drive was concluded as the major failure in their mission, whether it was in the damn case in the first place or not. From that moment on, everyone had to work overtime to review frame by frame how and when the flash drive was lost.

If she hadn't said she had to go back to a neighborhood party and insisted it would help her keep her fake identity, Samson might have let her stay on this floor all night watching surveillance with everyone else.

"Go back to that party of yours, and next time don't let the your life get in the way of work." Samson waved his hand and dismissed her.

She muttered under her breath, "Soon it won’t be."

2:30 a.m. Ari tossed and turned in the second bedroom alone, unable to sleep. Not only was the bed here harder than the master bedroom, but there was no Anna nestled in his arms. He cursed in annoyance and got out of bed to try the master bedroom. Anna used to let him sleep in the second bedroom when she was angry with him. Although she would lock the door every time, Ari would quietly use the backup key to open the door in the middle of the night and go back to Anna's side in the master bedroom before he could sleep peacefully.

He unlocked the door with a click, but the next second the smile on his face faded when the door wouldn't budge at all. He got down and peeked at the bottom of the bedroom door and found a small door stopper taped to the inside of the door. Six years ago, when they were first married, Anna and he had a falling out. Using the key to open the door, he had unfortunately knocked over her bottle of expensive foundation in the dark. The next thing he knew, she yelled at him to fuck off.

Shit. He thought to himself that there was no way he could get back to Anna without her noticing.

He tried the bedroom window for the next hour, but also hit a wall. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he hit the lock, as the window was locked up. Even if he chose to break the window, he didn't think he'd be able to get back to Anna tonight. Shit.

Ari rubbed his overgrown hair and paced back to the study. His supervisor had just sent him a video of the street surveillance, asking him to carefully screen it for suspicious people. The overall blue-gray-toned video was watermarked six hours ago, about the same time when Anna went out for a meeting. He was also out, to carry out his mission.

His mission was to use the opportunity created for him by the other agents to steal a flash drive from the case of an old biology professor. The professor was sitting in the hotel lobby an hour ago after his deal with arms dealer Morian fell through, and DHS engineered a clumsy waiter to break six glasses on top of the hotel tiles while he entered the deciphered code to open the case, took out the flash drive, closed it and retreated. The whole mission took less than ten minutes, but he didn't tell Anna he went out. Sneaking out when she had something to do was not something honorable, yes, he would admit that. But Ari did not want to lie either, at least not to her hopeful eyes.

Ari casually pulled on his pajama pants and went to the study to open his laptop. He didn't bother to turn on the light, otherwise, it would have woken her up. Now, he didn't know the reason behind not turning on the light was whether he was afraid he would wake her up and they would fight, or he was afraid she wouldn't react at all to his outlandish behavior. He squinted against the harsh light of the computer screen, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sifted through suspicious characters.

He paused the video at the spot where Vogelbaum had been hit and stumbled on the sidewalk. Here Vogelbaum's suitcase was knocked off into the blind spot of the surveillance, not even a shadow could be seen. And the cyclist wore windproof glasses and a scarf covering his mouth and nose, so tightly covered that he simply could not get the technician to zoom in and extract the facial data. Vogelbaum grabbed the bicyclist and demanded an explanation, from the look of the video, and someone handed the furious old man the case from the blind spot. But the hand only appeared for a moment, while all other angles of the surveillance were high and fuzzy.

Another dead end. He sighed.

Pedestrians bustled past Vogelbaum, nothing out of the ordinary ...... His argument with the bicyclist lasted a few seconds, when a girl came from the other side of the street, grabbed Vogelbaum by the arm, pulled out her black cell phone, and took out a napkin and marker. The bicyclist took this moment to slip away.

Ari paused the video again by intuition. This beastly instinct had saved his life many times before in a hail of bullets. The girl wore large black-framed glasses and a beanie, and had a conspicuous black mole on her face. She showed at most half her face to the surveillance, but it was enough for picture refinement. There was a strange familiarity about this girl. It seems that the coat she wore was very similar to the one Anna owned. Ari's eyes fell on the corner of the surveillance video, where there was a small flash of light.

Ari reassured himself that he was overthinking it, and that Anna's phone was milky white. But he got up and went downstairs anyway. Tonight, Anna came back from a meeting and they went straight to Gray's house, where, as usual, her coat should be hanging by the door. As if to reassure herself, and to prove herself wrong, Ari quietly went to the door where the clothes were hanging.

He first saw the shiny pin on the collar. Nothing about this pin was fancy and delicate like everything else in this house was. He remembered that pin, he hand-made it as a gift for wedding anniversary. And then the bulge caught his eyes. It was unethical to look into his partners’ pockets, he knew that. But he reached his hands inside, and discovered a marker and a napkin.

Anna couldn’t sleep tonight. This wasn't her first failed mission, however, it was kind of her most frustrating one. It didn't feel good at all to have the drive taken away from her one step ahead of time. She got up and checked the new messages on her work phone in the faint moonlight.

"Jenni?"

Looking at the messages and ten missed calls from an hour ago, not the least of which was from her boss, Samson. She hesitantly called Jenni back.

"Anna, we checked the security footage from the hotel where Vogelbaum stayed a few hours ago." Jennifer's words had a shudder that was not easily detected, "We suspect he was hired by Morian when Vogelbaum's deal fell through. Ari Levinson is a false identity, Anna--" her phone was taken from her by Samson, his cold voice echoed her brain, "You have twelve hours to bring back Mr. Levinson to our New York headquarters. If you can't bring him back alive, interrogate him about the whereabouts of the flash drive. If you do not respond to our message in twelve hours, and not bringing back Levinson or the flash drive, then the NSA will use extreme measures against you. Do you copy, Agent?"

"Yes." She replied mechanically.

"Very well, I'll be waiting to hear from you." Samson hung up the phone forcefully and ordered the two agents beside him, "Put Agent in our holding cell." His indifferent face seemed to be a formulaic execution of the Agent Defection Manual, "Please understand, Agent., hand over your badge and sidearm."

Jennifer spread her badge and sidearm on the table, and before she was taken away by the two agents she said to Samson stubbornly, "I trust Anna. She's loyal to the NSA."

"That would be wonderful." Samson said grimly, "Then killing Mr. Levinson wouldn't be a problem for her if she had to, would it?"

Jennifer bit her lip. That was something she couldn't guarantee. She glared at the agent who shoved her and spat out, "I can walk by myself."

Anna rolled out of bed and removed her sidearm from the secret safe in her closet. Inside the safe laid her NSA identification badge, but she let it stay there. If Ari really was an enemy agent or a mercenary, it would be more dangerous for her to give him leverage.

There were also pistols strapped under the kitchen sink downstairs and at the bottom of the couch in the living room, both of which she'd better take for protection before confronting Ari. At this point, her mind was muddled: Ari? She had seen him fixing locomotives and trucks and planes. Was that a fake identity? Just his cover? She only had 12 hours, how could she subdue Ari, and get him to reveal the location of the flash drive? Or did he have the flash drive on him?

She opened the bedroom door as quietly as she could, not even noticing the second bedroom door was opened. Anna held her gun ready to fire. She never thought she would feel unsafe in her own house. She smiled bitterly, perhaps it would save the trouble of divorce. She stepped cautiously down the stairs one step at a time, the bright moonlight shining through the living room window on the Persian rug. The light brown, hard-to-wash, easy-to-stain Persian rug had been bought the year before when they had done a minor remodeling of the house. Their relationship wasn’t so bad then.

She took a deep breath and cleared her head. There's plenty of time for grief after this bullshit.

Geographically, with the kitchen pistol closer to her, she stepped down the last step of the stairs and turned toward the vast darkness of the kitchen.

"Good evening, honey."

Ari sat wide open in her usual spot, his right index finger firmly on the trigger of a pistol, the muzzle pointed right at her. He had put on his coat, but his unbuttoned coat could not cover his hairy chest.

At the sound of his voice, Anna's hair stood at the back of her neck, her whole body screaming for her to get away from the danger as soon as possible.

"Good evening, sweetheart." She tried to be as calm as she could, "Why are you awake?"

He seemed to find her question very amusing and cocked his head, "I was going to ask the same question."

Anna approached him step by step, but stood at a distance of nine feet from him. She hadn't even changed her clothes. DAMN IT. She was still wearing her nightgown, yet the bottom half of his body was likewise in pajama pants. Maybe that meant he'd just found out his own identity had been revealed not long ago, too, so he'd only had time to pull on his outerwear.

Ari's eyes flirtatiously glided over the lace-trimmed cleavage at the top of her nightgown that barely covered it. He would never admit that he had just been attracted to the view there for a second, it would be too unprofessional. His wife was going to kill him, he had to be professional.

"Did you take Vogelbaum's flash drive?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that." He threw the subject back at her as it was, his index finger tightening on the trigger. Anna saw the black muzzle and the dark silhouette of the gun and was beyond sure the bastard had removed the safety from the gun before she came downstairs.

He got up with a tight grip on the pistol, and Anna's aim followed his movements, aiming at his forehead or the bridge of his nose, a shot that would basically make his brains burst out. He spoke slowly: "Look, honey, I didn't mean for things to get this bad. Tell me who your employer is, and maybe I'll consider sparing your life."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing. Whom do you serve?"

Ari was almost exasperated; his cute little wife was such a tough talker as always. Focus Ari, she had a gun. The flared hair made him basically a brown lion, retaining the ferocity of that predator hunting. He grinned. A jackal-like grin hung on his face as if he planned to tear someone to pieces the next second, "What, you want me to say, Jesus Christ?"

Anna knew exactly what was going to happen next, or the next few scenarios that could happen. In scenario number one, she succeeds in subduing Ari and escorting him to the NSA, five percent chance. In the second scenario, she dies in the process of subduing Ari, the probability is 20 percent - she knew very well that her fighting skills were only above the standard passing line, and she could say that she has no chance against Ari. In the third scenario, she is injured and captured in the process of subduing Ari, 60 percent chance- God knows how blood and violence will happen after this episode. In the fourth scenario, she is slightly injured in the process of subduing Ari and manages to escape, returning to the NSA and having them send agents after Ari, a fifteen percent chance, and her best option at this point.

Considering all four possibilities and her probability of survival, she chose the fourth one.

The place she was standing was close to the front and back doors, and if she could run into the garage, she could hot-wire a car and escape. It seemed like a good choice. But right now, she couldn't compete with Ari on who could fire their gun faster.

"Don't make me do this in the hard way." Ari furrowed his brows. He really didn't want their marriage to end this way, much less with a few rounds of ammunition and an interrogation room. If Anna had cooperated, he might have said a few kind words about her to his supervisor, even though he knew they would carry little weight, and even his supervisor would have called him “out of his fucking goddamn mind”.

It seemed that both Ari and she had chosen not to take the preemptive strike. She was curious if Ari would set up his own escape plan - focus, Anna, you no longer have a husband who argues with you because the meat displeases his taste. What else did she need? For hot wiring a car she'd still need a knife, to the kitchen then. She could break out the window with a knife in her mouth if she had to.

The kitchen was behind Ari, which was a bit of a problem. She gradually distanced herself from Ari.

Ari half-heartedly persuaded her to submit to him before more damage was caused. When he said "our marriage", the tears that had been building up in Anna's eyes finally fell. A beam of moonlight from above the stairs poured hazily over her face, and her tears seemed to glisten with light.

"Let's not fight, okay?" Ari meant it when he said this, reaching out a hand to Anna to hand in her firearm.

She lifted her head, her furrowed brows stretched, and a cold light flashed in her eyes: "FUCK YOU." She fired instantly, then rolled and ducked behind the couch. Ari's reaction was also very fast, as he switched his left hand to hold the gun and hit the couch with a couple of shots, but the dull sound of bullets penetrating the cotton of the couch and embedding themselves in the carpet meant that none of the shots hit her, and Anna has taken the opportunity to change her hiding place.

"You disabled yet, sweetheart?" Anna asked.

There seemed to be a flash of something in the dark shadows, and Ari emptied a clip, but only the sound of glass shattered. "To your dismay, honey, I fire better with my left hand." He cursed in secret as Anna's shot grazed an entire patch of skin on the outside of his right forearm. A five-inch wound that looked bloody and messy. Such a large abrasion, if not treated in time, could have ended with an amputation. He yanked off the covering cloth on the couch and wrapped it around his arm, tying a knot to prevent extensive bleeding and infection. But she was right, this wound was very effective in preventing him from shooting with his right hand.

Ari treated the wound and quickly switched magazines, loading all fifteen rounds into the pistol. It was so silent that only his own breathing could be heard, and the dark shadows enveloped the kitchen and half of the living room, so that nothing unusual could be seen. How come he hadn't noticed before that his little wife was so good at the game of hide and seek? He was careful not to let the moonlight shine on him and walked slowly against the wall.

Ari thought he had a vague idea of Anna's method of attack. If she was right, she was inclined to attack by sound, consuming all his bullets and energy before showing herself.

"Give up, Anna, surrender." He shouted.

"In your dreams." An unfamiliar voice ghosted behind him, and he twisted around to pull his gun, two rounds having been fired before he realized it was Siri reading a text message. But he already shattered the phone by then.

The sudden whistling wind made him take a few steps back to avoid whatever it was that was sharp enough to strike. He couldn't help but suck in a breath of cold air as the shiny knife embedded itself in the door frame behind him. Anna let out a laugh as he dodged the knife, but the backward movement sent him into the moonlight. The ensuing flying knives cut his left arm in varying degrees and one small blade pierced his thigh.

Ari's face turned white with pain, and he ducked into the shadows, gritting his teeth and tying another piece of cloth around his thigh. She had avoided major blood vessels, but it was enough to make him less mobile - if that wasn't the explanation, then he'd gotten lucky. Given his greatly weakened combat ability, he needed to make this quick. Wasn't she hiding in the kitchen? He fired three tentative shots in anticipation of her hiding place. The china under the counter shattered inside the cupboard. There was no expected sound of hitting human flesh, and she did not make a sound.

Anna, who was hiding on the side of the counter, was very glad she had her chopping board covering her head and upper body, and the first of Ari's three shots hit her chopping board. Her heart was beating frantically, and rarely did training make her heart beat this fast. Calm down, Anna, she told herself. Cautiously, she picked up a piece of broken glass that had crumbled to her feet and used it as a mirror to look behind her.

There was nothing to see.

Of course, it was as dark as if the room spilled with ink.

The back door to the kitchen was close. So very close. In just three seconds, she could open it and escape.

Come on, Anna, fight for your life. She summoned up the courage to rush to the back door and turned the knob as fast as she could in her life-- and she did.

Except for the fact that the knob wouldn't turn.

It was fucking locked up.

The sound of the lock twisting caught his attention, and bullets came crashing in behind her, and Anna only had time to drop to the ground with her head in her hands and the knife in her hand. The bullet penetrated the upper part of the door glass, and shards of glass fell on her arms, thighs, and cheeks, cutting trails of blood.

"Can't let you get away, honey, I locked the front and back doors before you came downstairs." He closed in on her, the shards of glass shattering beneath his feet with a bursting sound.

She tried to get up and run, but it was too late. The warm muzzle of the gun pressed against her forehead as Ari pulled the restraints from his coat pocket. His eyes lowered as if a lion was sizing up his prey, "Get your hands in there, honey, and don't make this any harder than it has to be."

She let out a breath and sat upright on the floor, “Okay. Can I stand up first?"

"No funny tricks, honey." He gestured for her to first tie the restraints around her wrists. It was much less likely to break free than the handcuffs.

Anna rested her hands on the edge of the kitchen counter and propped her knees up, "I've got my hands where you can see them, didn’t I?”

Ari was distracted from looking at her hands when Anna jerked the counter drawer open and let the wooden drawer hit his cheekbone. Ari let go and the gun fell to the floor, Anna saw the opportunity to kick the pistol away, but she wasn't fast enough to remove the taped gun under the sink before he pulled her by the ankle. The popped-out drawer was hanging outside and struck heavily under her ribs.

Damn, that's going to leave a bruise.

Both of her fists were stopped in mid-air by Ari. His large palm wrapped around her fist to reign in her force with ease, and he used the opportunity to force her arms behind her back. The corners of his mouth were cut and his cheekbone was red and swollen, but he didn't seem to care, flipping his hair out of his sight instead, "Come on, let's talk."

"Fuck your talk."

Anna squeezed the words out from between her teeth as she stomped between his legs, and Ari fell backwards, covering his crotch. She thought that would be enough for her to escape Ari's clutches, but Ari's pain tolerance proved to be much better than she had anticipated. Ari pulled her ankle again, but this time Anna was prepared, she wouldn't be caught up with the same move twice. She elbowed his spine and neck, until Ari was so concussed that he was dizzy and let go of her. Not even slightly relieved, she clenched her fist and punched him in the jaw. Even if it didn't dislocate him, it was enough to relish her anger.

She escaped his grasp and didn't feel safe until her back was against the kitchen corner. She didn't forget to pull off the gun stuck to the bottom of the sink and pointed it at his head.

Ari swallowed the rusty taste of blood and his lips were stained red. He grabbed the knife she had just dropped on the ground, and the hilt turned in his hand, forming a backhanded position with the knife. His jaw joint was vaguely painful, needless to say, came from her last punch. He was half crouched on the ground, his blood-soaked hand smoothing his long hair to the back of his head. A few strands of brown hair dripping with blood slipped down the side of his face, but he had no time to care whether he was decent now.

Ari could slit her throat if he lunged, or he could be pierced by a bullet a few times before he touched her. His dark blue eyes looked at the crimson glass shards that cut through her skin lying on the ground. They looked a bit like the blood diamonds he'd tracked down when he'd first joined DHS. Those blood diamonds were actually see-through and had been swallowed into the bowels of some poor man, staining themselves with the bright red blood of their victims. Since then he had some physical discomfort at the sight of diamonds again, which was why when Anna suggested the diamond ring and he persuaded her to buy the more expensive white gold ring. He deliberately came home at 7 p.m. sharp in order to maintain his cover, so she had to cook dinner for both of them, just because she came home a little earlier. Even the Persian carpet she complained about, which was hard to clean during the annual cleaning, was bought by him to cover up a piece of the floor he had pried up to hide the evidence.

He hesitated and distanced the marriage first. Her detachment was just a natural reaction to several unsuccessful attempts to win him back.

He didn't regret marrying her, but it seemed she had always been the one to back off in the marriage.

"I give up."

He said softly.

If she hadn't seen his lips twitching in his beard, Anna would have thought she imagined him saying that.

Ari tossed the knife into the sink and spread his hands, "I can't ......" His voice lowered, "Anna, I can't do this to you."

He looked straight into her eyes, and only her eyes were illuminated by a sliver of moonlight. Forgotten memories came to mind like a tidal wave: her smiling eyes when they first met, her happy tears when she got married, the temperature in her eyes lowered to the freezing point as she gave in again and again.

He was dying before he understood the failure of their marriage - no, he screwed up big time in the marriage.

It was too late when he understood. A faint red ring mark on her finger already spoke volumes about his failure.

He closed his eyes and waited for his end, whether it was a bullet in the head or endless interrogation and torture. He should not have given up as an agent until the last moment. But he chose to give up for the sake of his conscience and her future, and he only hoped that she would somehow spare him for the sake of his submission. For the first time in his marriage, he truly put the choice in her hands and waited for her decision.

Anna went through a million endings possible in her mind, but none of them involved him surrendering voluntarily and putting the choice in her hands. What would happen next? Would she interrogate him about the location of the flash drive and turn him over to the NSA, or would she ask for it and let him go? Or would she just hand him over to the NSA? Or let him go without further questions?

"Where's the flash drive?"

"It's in a safe place right now, but I don't know exactly where it is," Ari answered honestly. He was only responsible for stealing the flash drive, and he handed it over to his superior as soon as he got it. If his boss had heard what he said, Ari would probably have been benched for thirty years.

"You IDIOT!" Anna was so angry that she wanted to punch this idiot, "That thing can kill people if it got into the wrong hands!"

Ari looked at her confusedly, "Of course, that's why I stole it."

Anna was silent.

She was storming through her mind to calculate the possibility that she had married a dumbass.

"Wait, wait, wait," Ari held up his hands in surrender, "can I ask a question?"

"Yes," Anna said with no intention of answering him.

"Don’t you work for Morian?"

"I thought you work for Morian?"

Ari and Anna stared at each other for a while. At this point in time, there was no need for either side to lie. They both knew that the other was telling the truth, and they were sincere in their questions.

Ari couldn't piece things together for a moment: "Whom do you work for?"

"NSA, I'm the chief of Ops in New York. What!" She snapped.

"Why didn't you say so earlier!"

"You didn't ask! No, whom do you work for?" Anna asked rhetorically, her right eyelid fluttering, always with a bad feeling.

"...DHS, I belong to the Terrorist Activity Monitoring Squad of the Secret Service."

The National Security Agency bumped into the Department of Homeland Security. What are the fucking chances?

"Then why did you say Jesus Christ??" Anna went into a major meltdown, "We wouldn’t have to fight, genius!" She tried to clear her mind, putting the pistol behind her with the safety on, "You just said 'a safe place', you gave it to your boss, right?"

"Yes."

Anna looked even angrier than when they fought earlier, "Why don’t you just say so!"

"I thought you worked for Morian." He explained, a lame excuse, but one that was true, "Optimistically, we -"

"Then why didn't you ask!!!" She was so angry that she yelled at him, her cheeks flushed red - visible even in the hazy moonlight.

"I-"

"ARI LEVINSON you are the most fucking stubborn, stupid, egoistic maniac I have ever met!" She picked up the pistol behind her and threw it right in the center of his chest, followed by a melon and a pear straight at his body.

"Don't hit the wound, honey-"

"Don’t HONEY me!" Anna was shaking with anger, his pitch soaring two octaves higher: "You arrogant, self-absorbent little shit!!! We are getting a fucking divor--" Tears welled up from her eyes.

The familiar warmth gathered around her body, allowing her tears to soak through his coat.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, sounding a little pitiful.

Anna sniffled, her fists striking haphazardly against his back and shoulder. A number of them landed his wounds. On the one hand, she wanted to shoot Ari, but the pistol hit him just now and fell on the floor; on the other hand, she wanted to sink into the warmth of the embrace and never get up again.

She said reluctantly, "Your badge."

"What?" Didn't she say she was divorcing him for one second? Or he thought he would say at least something as cruel as "I hate you". He knew he deserve it though.

His word alone was surely not enough. She needed to see his ID badge, and she needed to call Samson to confirm the situation, as did Ari. "We need to record each other's ID badges and report to our respective supervisors." She kicked his calf, the tear not quite wiped from her face, but she was already thinking about what she was going to do for the next twenty-four hours.

Ari believed for a moment that they were going fuck. But she was right. Indeed, they had more pressing matters at hand that needed to be concluded.

4:30 a.m. In the car on the way to NSA's New York State headquarters, Anna looks at Ari, who has just finished a phone call to his boss, and smiled sweetly: "Have fun, Mr. Husband, you'll have to go over this whole story with my supervisor, Mr. Samson, later." Without even hearing the specifics of the call, she could imagine the shocked look on the face of Ari's supervisor when he heard Ari say that he had been subdued by his wife and the even more astonishing fact that she was an NSA agent.

But she could just as easily imagine that both the NSA and DHS would taunt each other with the other's failure to uncover the false identities of their own agents - or simply keep their mouths shut and put skeletons in the closet, which was probably best for both organizations.

Ari chuckled, choosing to let Anna have her moment of complacency.

"I feel like I should tell you, do you remember that old car we had?" Anna thought for a long time, tapping her fingers on the leather-covered steering wheel, her eyes glancing at Ari, whose long hair covered half of his face.

"Yes, why?"

"I didn't have a car accident. Drove it to the scene during a mission and ended up getting totally banged up by a dumb agent trying to put on a show of Fast and Furious. NSA even helped with a full news blackout at the time."

Ari's expression went from disbelief at first to gradual acceptance, "I told you that injury wasn't serious at all! You could have waltzed out of the hospital and still acted like you need a gurney at any second!"

"But NSA did pay for it, that's why we bought this car." Anna shrugged and took pride in her honesty (and in asking NSA for an extra amount for the damage to the vehicle).

"Fine. A bunch of terrorists once tracked down my, uh, our home address a few years back and started a mass shootout while you were at work - that's why I insisted on renovating the house, or you'd have seen the bullet holes sooner or later."

"You son of a bitch!" She exclaimed, but her tone wasn't quite angry, "You were the one who said that termites had infested the house that time. I was so scared I almost had to put pesticide under my pillow for a month."

"The lawn mower was a little crooked. I grabbed it when I was beating up those guys. I’m surprised you didn’t notice." He sighed.

"To be honest, you've been in charge of mowing the lawn, so I haven't paid much attention to it." She said bluntly, her pale fingers curling up and scratching the steering wheel slightly nervously, "I haven't done much cooking."

"You don't-"

"They’re mostly takeout."

"Fuck." It was Ari's turn to have a slight breakdown, "I never doubted it, just thought your cooking really sucks."

Anna looked into the rearview mirror, "You actually ate something I cooked once. I baked the cookies after the charity sale about four or five years ago."

"...You told me they were from the neighbor next door."

"Yes, after you thought it was too sweet. So I never made them for you again."

Ari caught the gist of the words and straightened his upper body from the car seat: “For me? You still make it yourself?"

"Occasionally, I make myself baked goods when I'm in the mood. But you don't have a sugar tooth, so you won’t touch it even if it's in the fridge." She glanced at him before adding, "My mom's a baker, and I've been helping her in the kitchen ever since I was a kid."

"You told me your mom died when you were a kid."

"Sorry, she's still healthy and very much alive. I think she’s sunbathing on whatever beach she's on. The guy holding me down the aisle at the wedding was an actor I hired - my parents divorced early on and I pretended my dad was dead."

"I told you I thought that guy looked familiar on Law & Order. I actually invited my own parents to the wedding." Ari felt deeply offended by the deception, "I was married once."

He immediately received a few slaps on the shoulder from Anna.

"What's her name and social security number???" She barked at him.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Ari had to raise his arms in defense, "She and I got drunk in Vegas back in the day. We signed divorce papers immediately when we were sober!"

"That's not a good reason either." She mumbled darkly, "I'm starting to regret being honest with you."

"It's too late, honey, you've opened Pandora's box." There was an unconscious note of mockery in his tone. He immediately regretted saying this, "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, Anna."

"It's Diana. mom thought it sounded good when she gave me the name, but then needed to pick a less noticeable name for missions, so my fake identity became Anna. What about you?"

"Levinson is my mother’s maiden name. I used my father's name until I was eighteen, then I joined DHS and needed to completely cut myself off from my old life. One last question, do... did you love me?" He asked calmly, feeling an unmistakable chill burrow into his heart.

"Did."

Ari turned his head to look out the car window, a watery glow already piling up in the corners of his eyes.

The AC blew a whirring cold wind that settled to the floor and gathered at the ankle. Anna looked at the way his goosebumps cover his arm, reached out and turned off the central air conditioning, and opened the windows to balance the temperature inside and outside the car, "still is. Probably will continue to love the idiot who always forgets to turn off the air conditioning in the future."

The chill dissipated.

She slowly pulled the SUV up to a building on Wall Street, the car door unlocked but no one got out.

"Say, you don't have an evil twin brother or anything, do you?"

The slightly sad atmosphere was broken once again by her skeptical question.

"No!" He answered in surprise, raising his eyebrow, "Where did you get that from? I'm an only child."

She pulled out her car keys but didn't forget to close the window, "The plot of 365 Dni. It's always good to be careful." Anna picked up her phone and checked for messages, luckily NSA hadn’t rushed her yet, "That book has been sitting in the middle of the study in the very center of the shelves, haven't you noticed? I bought it last year."

"You speak Polish?"

"No. I purchased an English translation of the book."

"My God, the stuff you read..." He couldn't help but sigh, "It's a novel?"

"I just love dramatic cliche romance novels." She didn't forget to add fuel to the fire before she got off, "Aren't you an agent? You don't even know what novels your wife reads at home?"

At 6 a.m., Ari Levinson and his wife Anna were finally released by the NSA and DHS after an exhausting hour of cross-interrogation and simple wound treatment by the accompanying doctor. With assurances from both superiors, they managed to keep their badges and sidearms. The flash drive problem was handled entirely by the NSA and DHS, which was beyond their pay grade. Jennifer, who was unfortunately caught in the mess, was also released, and Samson gave her a two-day vacation. But Anna had reason to suspect that he didn’t like Jenni's behavior of standing up for her.

Natalie heard that Anna almost killed her husband and secretly slipped her lawyer's business card into Anna’s hand and gave Anna two thumbs up. Anna didn't really want to know what she heard, but according to Jenni, the word around the department now was that Anna beat her husband to ED, and several colleagues claimed that the version they heard was that Anna beat Ari to his knees begging for mercy.

On his knees, well ... pretty much; begging, true. Ari thought silently, draping a thin quilt over Anna's sleeping, curled-up body. She had done too much mental and physical activity overnight, and was so sleepy after leaving NSA that she fell asleep in the passenger seat. He drove home and carried her to the main bedroom. She was disturbed several times, but did not wake up.

Fortunately, the damage they did was not extensive to reach the upstairs bedroom and study. The kitchen was half ruined, as were the living room and entryway. The storage room under the stairs wasn't in great shape either, so he was going to talk to her after she woke up about whether to call in the renovation team. Or maybe she'd wake up and he'd have to deal with their divorce papers and the divorce lawyer with the gold-rimmed glasses.

Ari walked down the creaking stairs and sat down on the couch to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He preferred it on the rocks; however, the fridge was shot through last night. The spicy liquor warmed up his throat and stomach, but the darkness had passed and the temperature would only continue to rise as the sun rose. He leaned back against the couch, the lack of support from the soft fabric always made him feel like he was not lying on his own sofa.

Miraculously, through the thin layer of the floorboard, both of them coincidentally thought about their first meeting. As for Anna, she dreamt about it.

Six or seven years ago, in a rainy and misty southern Argentina, such uncommon precipitation weather naturally gave the intelligence agencies opportunities to take advantage of. Anna was an intelligence analyst at that time and was ordered to come to Argentina to assist a criminal informant to get out of trouble, but more importantly, to get information from the informant about the operation of an international crime syndicate. Something neither she nor her superiors anticipated were that the desperate informant first gave her false information and then defected to the crime syndicate, offering Anna as his proof of loyalty.

Anna had no choice but to shoot the renegade informant. The sound of gunfire brought her trouble, as the police in Cordoba, on the payroll of the crime syndicate, started to investigate who killed the man. They were focused on foreign tourists who were traveling alone.

A few policemen tried to shake down some female tourists, and Anna was one of them. When they questioned Anna loudly in Spanish if she had company, she was relieved by Ari, who called her honey and helped her out. Ari said he was a pilot on a flight from Los Angeles to Buenos Aires, even though he actually poisoned an Argentinean military official in collusion with terrorists before the police riot. He felt sorry for Anna's entanglement and bought her a drink. One drink soon turned into two and three, and then the pair soon fell in love and spent a few more days in Cordoba, kissing, dancing, and laughing.

They both returned to the United States. After a few more dates and three weeks of knowing each other, they announced to everyone around them that they were getting married.

Anna finished her nap and stretched in bed, but almost twisted her back out with the "good morning" from the doorway. Ari leaned against the door frame and grinned at the look on her face. He walked over to the bed and leaned down to kiss her forehead, "Good morning, honey." His warm kisses landed on her brow and the bridge of her nose, his lips eventually lingering for a moment above hers, his crystal blue eyes searching her face for any sign of resistance.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close for a deeper kiss. The kiss quickly ignited an unfinished flame between them that began with their anger but was not entirely made up of pure bottled-up emotion. The mutual revelation of their identities did not quench their thirst but only temporarily stopped the further spread of the flame that now swept through their souls and bodies, burning down almost everything.

He took off her pajama and took hold of her slim waist, brushing the patch of bruising skin with his thumb unintentionally, earning a soft whine from Anna. Ari regained a moment of sanity from the kiss and his eyes followed the strange touch beneath his fingers. The underside of her ribs was slightly swollen, no doubt from their chaotic encounter downstairs a few hours earlier. He had no strange fetishes, he had to admit, but Anna's bruised and battered body only made him pity her more and his desire to fuck her higher than ever.

"I'm sorry." He whispered his apologies, kissing every tiny cut and bruise beneath, a profound way to remind himself of the mental and physical damage he had inflicted on her. Ari's long hair fell down the sides of his face, sweeping over her body along with his beard. Anna's hands convulsed with his hair, slightly removing some of the itches, yet his soft beard left her squirming under him. There was nothing she could do. He lifted her legs and held her scratched legs over his shoulder, burying his head and kissing the soft flesh on her inner thigh. His ringed left hand rested on the outside of her flesh, the silvery-white ring touching her skin and bringing a cool sensation.

His overly exuberant hair brushed her pussy through her panties, which were soaked with her own juices, and the sensation of being tickled caused her to express her displeasure in a somewhat frustrated, thin moan. Hickeys crept up her inner thighs to the groin where they met her belly. She tried to keep her legs together, but his head was in between and she was afraid of crashing his skull. If he didn't do something to her soon, she really would do something to his skull.

"May I?" His blue eyes darkened. The heat in her body collided with the hot breath across her skin, burning the knots in her lower abdomen.

She lost her strength after just one look at him. Not to mention taking off her panties, these beautiful eyes could have made her tie herself up and edge her ten times over and she’d gladly obey: "Please."

Her panties were flung to God knows where, and that was probably the least thing on her mind right now. He started with a long lick at her slit, then the tip of his tongue went in to seek out the swollen, almost painful clit. "Fuck." His tongue slid around the edge of her entrance, muffled by the abundance of her juices. The vibrating sensation beneath her made Anna clench his hair, running her fingers on his scalp, stirring a few strands into one.

Six years of marriage had given him a good knowledge of the sensitive spots on her body. Ari rubbed his jaw over her mound, making her squirt and come all at once as she whimpered. "Cream on my face, honey." His brush-like whiskers gave her a tingling, intertwined sensation, the delicious beard burn generating soreness she could feel even days later. His whiskers glistened with her crystalline juices, and with a slight gasp, he moved up to kiss her lips, giving her a taste of her own.

Her fingers left the ends of his messy hair and peeled off his tank top and shorts, exposing his thick shaft. It took little time for Ari to get his cock at her entrance and penetrate her effortlessly, his arms gripping her thighs so that her pussy met his shaft without breaking the stitched wound on her body. Her warm, wet channel fluttered upon his intrusion. Her pussy was a constant supply of juices for lubrication, dripping out of her body, yet he felt strong resistance every time he thrust in. She was so tight that made him suck a breath.

"You are so fucking tight, honey, might come just this second." His teeth took her soft earlobe in and whispered filth in her ear, along with his muffled grunts burnt Anna's face. She pulled him down and bit his lips to shut him up, but Ari's hand somehow rested on her tits, pinching her nipple and making her scream. The tingling from her nipple, the warmth coming from her earlobes, her pussy split open by his demanding cock, the squelching noises, the lips grinding and chasing, the rising heat in the room, and the salty taste of sweat on his chin... she was lost in the multiple sensations and soon came.

They made love three times until they both lay exhausted on the bed, panting heavily, unwilling to lift another finger. It wasn’t fuck. The process was gentle and caring. And Ari, for the first time in his life, didn’t thrust into her like a horny teenager, but rocked slowly, allowing her to float in the blissful post-orgasmic fuzzy feeling, rather than passing out the second she had her orgasm. He came three times inside her, stuffing her pussy with so much cum dripping out of her entrance and smeared with her juices. She didn’t particularly enjoy orgasms ripped out of her body, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like to be stuffed full either.

Anna rested on his arm, keeping her back close to his warm chest. His firm arms wrapped around her upper body like chains from behind, while he pressed kisses (and tickled her with his beard) to her shoulder.

After a long time, when the sunlight peeked into the gap between curtains and landed on the dark floor and both of their ankles, Ari finally asked the question that was bothering him for hours, "What are we going to do next?"

A week later, at 3 p.m., the marriage therapist was very pleased to see the couple from last week back here. Many people didn’t make it through a session, but that was a topic for another day.

"Have you made any progress in the last week?"

"Sure." The Levinsons smiled from the bottom of their hearts. Ari caught one of her hands and rubbed her ring finger. Anna gave him an annoyed look but didn't pull back. It was a good sign that they had communicated well in the previous week, as they did not resist physical contact. The therapist took notes in his notebook.

Ari's eyes unconsciously glued to her face: "We ... ahem, we communicated, and we both recognized our shortcomings in the marriage."

"And we are fixing the problems in the marriage," Anna added, leaning slightly in Ari's direction, but only a little. Anna straightened her face, but could not stop smiling, "Oh, and we redid the house."

The therapist listened very carefully to their answers and nodded approvingly, "That's going very well. Marriage is all about communication, constant improvement, and constant bonding. It's a long-term process."

Ari agreed: "I'm not going to lie, I still sometimes want to …" his eyes are glued to Anna again, swallowing the few words that could get them back into trouble, "but uh - couldn’t take the shot. "

"Me too."

They looked at each other and then grinned. Both were a bit smug.

The therapist cleared his throat to regain their attention, "Remember it's the two of you versus the problem, not you versus the other person. So how will you rate your current relationship?"

"Ask us that sex question again," Ari interjected, causing Anna to slap him on the back of the hand with a disapproving look. Ari just shrugged and intertwined their fingers. Anna shook her head as if dealing with a 5-year-old, considering Ari’s smug smile and his clinginess, it wasn’t a bad metaphor.

"Well, -"

He held her hand and raised his smile triumphantly, posing "1" and "0" with his fingers and mouthed: "Ten."

Notes: I wrote this in June to celebrate Chris Evans' birthday. And it took me five days to write this stuff, in English, no less, which is not my first language. No beta'd, so there's gonna be typos and grammar errors. But anyway. Always appreciate comments and feedbacks / reblogs!

#ari levinson #ari levinson x original female character #ari levinson smut #happy birthday chris evans

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