#and then I discovered the timing of the New Plague
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say it right [fratrry]
summary: when harry’s delinquent behaviour gets him transferred to a new college, he and y/n (who seem polar opposites) form a strange kind of relationship.
[this is a 2k word snippet. the whole 23.6k can be read over on patreon only]
//
It’s nearing five p.m. when Y/N comes strolling through the front door. She’s got a shit-eating grin on her face and excitement is seeping through her pores. She’s hopping on the balls of her feet as she closes the door behind her, cheeks beginning to ache but she can’t find it in herself to care.
She’s skipping through the foyer and straight into the kitchen when Raegan and Dean quickly jump away from each other. As if Y/N didn’t already know. She doesn’t say anything, can’t really think about anything other what’s to come tonight.
Dean squints at her. “What’s got you all chipper?” He asks and Y/N shies her face into her shoulder for a second before bouncing on her toes and clapping her hands.
“I have a date!”
Heads turn her way and Y/N finally acknowledges the rest of her housemates as they gather around her like she’s discovered fire.
“You… have a date? As in Y/N Jane Y/L/N, has a date?” Oliver quips, sheer confusion and disbelief laced in his tone and Y/N tries to not be wounded.
She scoffs instead. “Gee, thanks, Olly.”
He tries to stammer out that he didn’t mean it in the way she took it, but when Raegan swiftly jabs him in the ribs with an elbow, he falls silent.
“So….” Raegan raises her shoulders and brows expectantly and Y/N states at her blankly. “Who are you going on a date with!?” She hoots out, arms outstretched by her sides and wonders how her friend is so fucking absent all the time.
Y/N’s eyes ignite up and she grins. “Oh! Uh, Liam, the guy from the bar.” Y/N softly answers and she suddenly feels like they’re about to interrogate her, kill the lights and force her onto a stool. They don’t.
“Oh, you mean Liam from Psych 101.” Dean clicks his fingers and Y/N nods her head sheepishly.
It’s hushed for a moment. “Wow, really? Liam from Psych 101 asked you out?” He repeats and Y/N feels that little tug in the pit of her stomach.
Ah, they’re surprised, and by the tone of their voices and looks on their faces, she’s guessing they’re astounded that he asked her out, of all people.
“Liam from Psych 101 asked who out?” a gentle voice quarrels through the room.
Harry bounces in easily, an airy vibe to his mood. He locks eyes with Y/N for a moment and he offers a tender smile.
It’s been exactly nine days since he played the hero in her time of need, and they’ve spoken every day since. They’re friends, to say the least. And although neither of them are subtle with their lingering glances and sheepish smiles, they’re also both completely and utterly oblivious.
“Y/N… can you believe it.” Dean says, and both Harry and Y/N’s smiles plummet, though both for completely different reasons.
Harry just raises his eyebrows a little, hopes that they will lift the rest of his face and tug on the corners of his mouth to keep that fucking smile on his lips, though the frown lies heavy and he finds himself struggling.
“You’re going on a date.” He breathes out, nodding to himself as he clamps his bottom lip between his teeth.
Harry isn’t sure why the new information has plagued him, not when he’s still been seeing Corina every other day and the fact that there is absolutely nothing between him and Y/N that goes beyond the means of a flourishing friendship.
“Like… like a date date?” Niall peeks at his friend.
Y/N shrugs and offers a timid smile, tucking tufts of hair behind her ear and she glows just a little, though she isn’t sure why.
“So you’re missing movie night?” Mackey finally pipes up, words stifled by the piece of cake he’s just shoved in his mouth.
Y/N purses her lips and nods her head. She feels a little wrong. Movie night has always been her idea and she’s always given the other’s shit if they’ve missed one for whatever reason. Movie night is the equivalent of family night to Y/N, and she feels like she’s about to disappoint her family.
“Okay.” Raegan shrugs and Y/N feels a little load lifted from her shoulders.
It’s silent again and she can feel Harry’s indifferent eyes on her and she doesn’t quite know why.
“Um, Mais… will you help me get ready?” Y/N asks softly to her friend.
Maisee raises her head from the book she was reading, hasn’t bothered to acknowledge Y/N’s news. She’s has hardly spoken to Y/N since the night of Harry’s surprise party, and it’s beginning to bother her. Y/N isn’t sure if she’s done something to upset her friend, she just wants things back to how they used to be. Maisee evades eye contact as she clears her throat and stands from her seat.
“Actually, I’m kinda busy. I’m sure Raegan can help.” She stammers out, surging past the group and leaping up the steps. No one seems to notice the strain between them or the way Y/N’s smile sinks into a grimace.
Harry purses his lips and steps out of the room, silently trailing Maisee up the stairs and he hinders her before she can get into her bedroom.
“What the hell is your problem?” He quips out quietly.
She spins and frowns, books grasped to her chest and Harry takes a few more undecided steps toward her.
“Excuse me?”
Harry jeers. “Y/N. What the fuck is your problem with her? Ever since the party you’ve been a no-show when she’s needed you. And back there, you literally blew her off in front of everyone. So what the fuck is your problem?” He’s essentially fermenting.
Harry doesn’t know what comes over him, can’t understand why he’s so hellbent on fixing their friendship. Before Maisee can say anything, Harry’s shaking his head and turning his back to her, stomping off into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him.
Maisee stands there, dazed. She’s more than a little speechless but part of her isn’t surprised. She’s had an inkling that there might’ve been something going on between Y/N and Harry and now she’s dead certain there is.
He’s right though. Maisee’s been avoiding her. She blames herself, for what happened with Chris at Harry’s party, and she knows Y/N’s too fucking nice to blame her, too. Maisee drops her books off on the desk in her room, staring at the pinboard on the wall. There’s polaroids of them both, Y/N and Maisee, smiling and giggling without a care in the world.
Maisee takes a deep breath and wanders to Y/N’s bedroom, knocking on the open door and taking a step in. Y/N sits on the edge of her bed with a solemn look, gorgeous hair, that Maisee’s always been jealous of, covering her face and she picks at her fingernails. Nervous habit.
“Hey,” Maisee whispers, Y/N’s head snapping up and her eyes are wide, hopeful.
“Hi,” Y/N breathes and her shoulders raise as hope and love bubble inside her. She just wants her best friend back.
Maisee takes a seat beside her and smiles through pursed lips. “I wouldn’t have come up here if Harry didn’t convince me.” She admits, and part of Y/N appreciates her honesty. She stares at her with a slight frown and somewhat squinted eyes.
“Harry spoke to you?” She asks, and Maisee doesn’t bother to hide the humorous smile on her lips as she stares at the carpet beneath her.
“Yeah, reminded me of what a shitty friend I’ve been lately,” She chuckles out dryly.
Y/N purses her lips. “You haven’t—” She’s cut off with a sharp scoff.
“I have, don’t even try to deny it.” She insists.
Y/N stays quiet, stares at the carpet too and this is the most conversation they’ve had in three weeks.
“I’m sorry.” Maisee’s apology echos through the room and Y/N smiles softly, a little happier now.
Partly because she already forgave Maisee, the other part because Harry went out of his way to do something nice for her, for no reason. A blush squirms on her faded cheeks at the thought.
“Me too.”
//
It’s midnight.
Her feet are raw, her jaw throbs and she’s pretty sure her eyes resemble a panda’s. Her heels (that she borrowed from Maisee) are dangling from her fingertips by the straps and the soles of her feet are covered in dirt.
She’s silent, stealth like. She doesn’t want anyone to hear her sneaking in, nor see that look of utter exhaustion and embarrassment on her face. Her aching toes pad up the stairs, teeth clenched like that’ll somehow keep her movements light and silent.
She thinks she’s made it, that she could be considered for the Secret Service, but she forgets the uneven floorboard outside her bedroom and it creaks, reverberating through the empty hall. She stills for a moment, eyes clutched shut, lips pursed in a fine line like it’ll make a difference.
It doesn’t, and Harry pokes his head out of his door and smiles when he sees the side of her face that’s masked by her hair.
“Hey… how was your date?” He asks smoothly, running across his face and he stifles a yawn.
Y/N clears her throat and sniffs.
“Yeah, it was okay.” She mutters, uninterested. Harry frowns and steps out of his doorway and toward her.
“Just okay? What’s wrong? You sound upset.” He notices, warm hand caressing the side of her cold arm and she finally turns around to him.
She looks absolutely fucking devastated and something about her tottering eyes and quivering lips hurts him.
“He stood me up.” She sniffles, eyes flooding with fresh tears and he doesn’t have time to think before he’s pulling her into his chest and keeping her close.
She’s wailing into his soft, blue shirt and she feels so bad for ruining it with her makeup, but Harry shows he doesn’t care when he cradles her head snug into his chest and gently coos her.
“You’re okay, honey… it’s okay.” He isn’t sure where the nickname comes from, he’s never been one to use them, but it feels right, like it was made just for her.
Harry reaches behind her and opens her bedroom door, carefully ushering her inside and she sits on the foot of her bed as Harry detaches himself for her. He suddenly feels aloof. He reaches over and closes the door before making his way into her bathroom, grabbing a pack of makeup wipes from her sink and pulling one out of the packet.
“Hey, shh. Look at me, okay?” He whispers, benevolently guiding her hands from her face and he’s surprising himself with this new side of him.
Y/N swallows, breath caught in her throat as she does so and she’s so fucking enthralled by his kindness.
He gently wipes under her eyes, removing the smudged mascara stroking her soft cheek with his other hand. She stares at him for a moment, almost disregarding why he’s there, but then she remembers.
“Why am I never enough for anyone?” Y/N whimpers out and Harry quickly realises he’s on deep and untouched territory.
His mind is screaming at him to run, to get the hell out of dodge… but his heart beats softly and he knows he needs to stay. She needs company and comfort, and he… Well, he needs to know that she’s okay.
“You’re more than enough, honey. Don’t do that to yourself. He’s a dick, okay? He doesn’t deserve you.” Harry comforts her, makeup wipe on the floor as he cups her swollen cheeks in the palms of his hands.
“Y/N Jane, you are the kindest soul I have ever met. You are smart, talented, funny, strong. You are so beautiful, Y/N. I promise you.” His voice is straining like he’s desperate for her to hear and believe his words.
She does. For a fleeting moment, she does.
And then she kisses him.
//
⬇️ read the full 23.6k here ⬇️
#patreon exclusive#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#imagine harry styles#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fluff#harry styles fic#harry styles angst
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if you're flying in america you should fly southwest, they're pretty chill
don't fucking fly on planes in america, you'll get fucking COVID like I JUST DID
#I WAS SUPPOSED TO START WORKING THIS WEEKEND#FOR THE FIRST TIME IN M O N T H S#knew i wouldn't be able to visit family for a while#so i went on a last minute trip to see my aunt#never been out to her place before#she generously paid for my flight <3#flew there#got there. started feeling sick#didn't feel like the last time i got covid.#thought it was fine#flew home#BAM fever hits#now:#i'm Sick ™#i brought the Fucking Plague into my aunt's house!!! my aunt who i love!!!#i may have to delay my start date at my new job!#thus delaying getting paid money i need to live!!#OR worse#i discover that my new place of work actually doesn't care about covid#and get slammed in the face with that depressing 2x4#as my introduction to a new space i was really hoping to not hate#at least not right off the bat#anyway don't fly on planes
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#figuratively bashing my head on a wall every time i discover what was plaguing me for weeks was just my ocd latching onto something new#sneaky bastard brain#h
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Alternatives to Squishmallow
So as many of you have probably already heard, Jazwares, the company that produces Squishmallows, is donating to charities that support Israeli soldiers and the IDF. They’re also supporting Canary Mission, which has been doxxing people who speak out against Israel. BDS hasn’t called for a boycott against them, but I can’t in good faith spend my money on their products, and I would strongly encourage everyone who enjoys plushies to really think long and hard about if you want to give your money to a company that’s helping support genocide!
But the holidays are coming up, and lots of us enjoy plushies and were fans of Squishmallow, and were planning to give Squishmallows to friends and family this year.
Fortunately, there are a number of great plushie companies out there, and I want to promote some of my favorites in the hopes that folks will get their plushie fix from a source that doesn’t side with Israel. So without further ado:
Fluffnest
Fluffnest got their start on Kickstarter a few years ago, and I adore the round shapes of their PuffPal plushies! My favorite is Pete the Possum, which is probably the best possum plush I’ve ever seen. I’ve also got a beautiful moth from their Kickstarter and I’ve been wanting their bats for ages. They also recently had a Kickstarter for an Animal Crossing-esque video game featuring their plushie characters and it looks fantastic.
Squishables
I can’t get over the plague doctor plushies. They’re so perfect and cute, and they’ve released other variations of them called Alter Egos, like a ghostly version, an alien, or a really sweet cottagecore one! They’ve got a ton of variety, but what I like the most are the fantasy plushies. There’s a lich! There are dragons and demons! Cryptids! Biblically accurate angels! A lot of really fun stuff!
Also they do a lot of great charity work! Right now they’re doing an auction for the Food Bank of New York City.
AfternoonFika
AfternoonFika is a very small business of only three people, but their plushies are extremely cute. They tend to sell out fast, so I recommend following them on social media to stay on top of any restocks! They recently released a line of dinosaurs that are precious, and of course I love their iconic cactus cat and cinnamon bun bunny.
Jellycat
Jellycat has been around since 1999, so they’re the oldest of these companies. They’ve got great designs, a ton of variety, and a lot of their plushies are made to be cuddled on and not just displayed. All three of my tiny nephews sleep with a different stuffed dog from Jellycat. My mom has a sun and several succulents that she uses as decorations. There’s a little something for everyone who enjoys plushies!
If you have any other favorite companies I haven’t mentioned, feel free to add on! I’ve enjoyed Squishmallows for a while now and I’m sad to see their leadership coming out on the side that’s committing war crimes on a daily basis, but this is a good time to discover new favorite plushie companies! And remember, money speaks loudly. Even if BDS hasn’t called for a boycott of Jazwares, it sends a message when sales start dropping for companies that support genocide. It’s a small thing, but the little things we do can add up!
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a lover's pinch | one
joel miller x f!reader
pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader
rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni
summary: a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor.
warnings/tags: au, age gap [20 something years diff], alcohol consumption, irrational sexual tension, smut, sex in a public place w/ a stranger [and i'm talking depraved/zero time wasted/known you for thirty minutes type strangers], oral [f receiving], protected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, a spot of degradation + misogynistic language, a split second of soft!joel, you get the picture
word count: 5.9k
series masterlist | main masterlist
a/n: my friends.... oh boy, oh boy. this series is a complete au, self-indulgent, fantasy land idea that has plagued me for weeks. horny academic brain rot to the highest degree. hope some of you enjoy it with me x
Friday.
You sit with three almost strangers.
Listen to them talk about their summers and their families and their degrees as you twirl a straw around your half-empty glass, disrupting the melting ice as you try to wrap your head around what a master’s in environmental engineering might entail. One of them, the only man at the table, takes great pleasure in explaining it to you all for the second time. You take mental notes and hope he’s not expecting you to remember words like sparging and leachate.
They do ask you about your undergrad, and your internship, nodding and smiling curiously. They don’t ask what type of job you plan on getting after your postgrad, which is a welcome relief. The bombardment of questions from immediate and extended family is enough.
Cousins wondering aloud, saying you study Greek mythology, right?
Or your grandfather, before he died, berating you ad nauseam at family events about what’re you gonna do, kid? Be a historian? There’s no money in being a historian. Now, being a lawyer, that’s where the money is.
And you’d respond no, not quite Greek mythology, and no, I don’t plan on being a historian, as you gorge yourself on red wine and triscuits and wait for Christmas to end.
Thankfully you aren’t expected to rehash these scenarios with your almost strangers, who routinely ask a few well-mannered questions and then go back to talking about themselves.
After a week of living with them, in a new house, and a new city, you’re becoming used to their company. The way the four of you commune lazily in the kitchen most mornings, swathed in the light streaming through a window above the sink, making idle small talk as you wait for coffee to brew. How Pete and Trin study opposite each other at the dining table, while Nora prefers to spread her limbs across the couch, laptop balanced precariously on her stomach. She’s doing her master’s in education, which she describes as an expensive way to get a pay rise. She’s kind, with wild curly hair and dark humour, and is easily your favourite of your new roommates.
It was her idea to go out that night. One last hurrah, she’d called it. Before we enter the final circle of academic hell next week. And between four overworked, already burnt-out, twenty-something students, it hadn’t taken much convincing before you were sharing three bottles of wine and hightailing it to the bar with the highest Yelp rating.
The late August air is dry; a faint warmth that follows you into a quaint bar in downtown Biddeford. The space is small and crowded with patrons, with dim overhead lighting that casts a soft glow across the booth you’re crammed into. A thin sheen of sweat coats your skin, and your shirt sticks to your back uncomfortably. The others seem unbothered by the heat, nursing sweaty glasses and discussing how different Maine is from where they all grew up. You involve yourself here and there, offering up stories about your family and friends from back home, and suddenly an hour has passed, and then another, and you’re pleasantly tipsy, body humming as alcohol spreads its way through your veins, and your latest drink is practically empty, spare a few melting ice cubes.
“I need another drink,” you tell Nora, who nods absently before turning her attention back to the others.
You wander toward the bar, fumbling for your phone as you go. Fall in between two leather cushioned stools and rest your elbows atop the sleek wooden counter. Check your bank account and mentally traverse the list of reasons for returning to student-life when you see the number staring back at you. I don’t want to be a lawyer, I don’t want to be a lawyer, I don’t want to be a lawyer, your internal monologue runs, although you could admit how sweet a solicitor’s pay check would feel right now.
It’s a low, Southern drawl that pulls you from your reverie.
“Mind if I sit here?”
Deep. With a rough, lilting quality that piques your interest and has your eyes drifting upward from your phone screen.
You notice his body first; a tall frame with thick arms, thick shoulders, thick neck. A navy-blue t-shirt that stretches thin around his biceps, hugging the tan skin there. And then you look higher, and—oh.
Your heart stutters a beat out of time as you take in his face. Loose brown curls that are just long enough to hang across his forehead. Dark, almond-shaped brown eyes. So dark they almost appear black on the first glance. The strong nose and dark hair across his jaw, dappled with streaks of grey. A moustache resting atop a set of dark pink lips. Gone are thoughts of academia, of bank accounts, of your almost strangers. All replaced in an instant by wanton, pulsating desire.
Something like surprise cuts across his face, but it disappears just as quickly. In a far recess of your brain, you register that he must be at least twenty years older than you. You wilfully ignore the thought, perfectly content to continue admiring him.
A dark eyebrow ticks upward then, and you realise you haven’t responded.
“No,” you rush, flashing him a quick smile. “All yours.”
He gives you a pleased nod, a hint of a smirk passing over his lips as he sits down. He looks vaguely uncomfortable perched on the tall chair, all six-foot-something of him cramped onto such a small cushion. You cast a single glance back towards the booth, and then slip onto the stool beside him.
Silence descends between you for a moment. A song by The Eagles plays faintly, but you can’t figure which one - too distracted to make out the lyrics. You take a careful sip of the melted ice at the bottom of your glass, taste the last remnants of tequila in it, and watch him out of the corner of your eye.
“’m Joel,” that accent rings again, sending a volt of warmth through your chest.
You tell him your name, fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt. If he notices the tension in your posture, he doesn’t let on. “You a Southern man, Joel?” The name feels warm on your tongue. Soft and silken like honey.
“S’it that obvious?” he grins crookedly, pink lips tearing back to reveal a straight white smile.
“An accent like that is hard to ignore,” you smirk. “It’s not a bad thing.”
‘Thought it would fade a little since I moved here,” he explains. “Y'can take the man outta Texas, but… you know.”
You hum, eyes alight as you watch him speak. His mouth is beautiful, lips parting around prolonged vowels.
“You here alone?” he asks.
“No,” you say. “With friends.”
“Let me guess,” Joel tilts his body, glancing around the bar. His shirt shifts with the movement, hem raising to reveal the slightest hint of a soft, tanned stomach. He points somewhere over your shoulder. You shut your mouth, careful not to gawp. “Them.”
You turn, a soft laugh of surprise bubbling up through your chest when you spy the bachelorette party set up across the bar. Women dressed in gaudy shades of pink. One of them with a sash—reading Jenny’s Big Day—across her chest, a short veil pinned to her head, and an empty champagne glass clutched in her fist. One of them teary-eyed, gripping the bride’s arm and yelling something in her ear, sloshing champagne onto herself all the while.
“You got me,” you turn back to him with a grin. Hold your hands up in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t be caught dead missing Jennifer’s last night as a free woman.”
The corners of his eyes crease, entire face blossoming into a smile now. He has a dimple on his right cheek.
“Knew you were a good girl,” he nods. Says the words in a matter-of-fact tone. Something twists in your stomach, and your palms dampen. You wet your lips quickly and don’t back down from his gaze, allowing the corner of your mouth to kick up a little.
“And you?”
His eyebrows raise in a silent question.
“Who’re you here with?” you clarify.
“Just you, darlin’,” he says, left eye dropping in a quick wink.
It's easy with him, you find, and the two of you sit there for a while; exchanging small talk about Maine, the hot weather, the music at the bar, slipping in flirtatious comments that are about as subtle as a neon sign, until he finally spies the empty glass in your hand.
“What are you drinkin’?” he asks.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you say, hoping it doesn’t come across too eager. He seems pleased though. There’s something provocative to his gaze, a teasing warmth that raises the temperature of your skin wherever he looks. But whatever it is, it’s gone by the time he reaches across the bar for the bound beverage list.
He peers at the menu, squinting ever-so-slightly to see through the dim lighting of the bar. The skin beside his eyes is soft and creased with age, crow’s feet that hint at years of laughter and smiles. You wonder again how old he is. How much older than you.
“Forget your glasses?” you tease, testing the waters.
Joel’s eyes flash up to yours. The muscle in his jaw ticks.
“Watch it,” he says. There’s a playful note in his voice, but it rings deeper somehow—a hint of a warning.
Your thighs squeeze together on the stool, warm sweaty skin peeling off the tacky leather as you move. His eyes dart to the bare skin of your legs, and then back to the menu.
He orders you both a whiskey, and a moment later the bartender is sliding a crystal tumbler in front of you. A finger of amber liquid with a single grandiose sphere of ice resting in it. Fancy.
“Cheers,” he holds his glass out. You knock yours against it gently before taking a short sip, fighting a grimace as it burns down your throat.
He watches your face closely, tries to gage your reaction. You take another sip, holding strong in your efforts to show him that you can handle it. Whatever he wants to give to you, you can handle.
“So what brings you here?” he asks. You notice how large the glass feels in your palm, and how small it appears in his. Long, thick fingers wrap around the object, dwarfing it. He takes a sip, and you watch him swallow. His Adam’s apple bobs, and you want to graze your teeth across it.
“To the bar or to Maine?”
“Either.”
“Well, I just moved into town last week, from the West Coast. It’s actually my first week back in the US; I was travelling before the big move.”
“Busy girl,” his tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. You blink. “Travellin’?”
“I was in Greece,” you explain, sip your whiskey and definitely don’t grimace at the harsh taste. “For a month or so.”
“A month in Greece?” His eyebrows raise and he does a low, impressed whistle that has your stare zeroing in on his mouth.
“Ever been?” you ask faintly.
“No,” his reply is swift. “Never had much interest.”
And you’re nodding absentmindedly, but you can’t seem to drag your stare away from his mouth as he speaks. The trance is only broken when he raises his glass for another sip, and you shake yourself out of it, eyes shifting to stare into his brown orbs once more. They’re darker than you remembered, gaze loaded as he looks back at you. The tension was palpable when you first sat together, but now it feels impossible to ignore; an electric tangle of wire between the two of you that just keeps getting shorter and shorter. And you think, fuck it, if you’re about to descend into the final circle of academic hell, why not have a little fun?
“Can I tell you something, Joel?”
You say it softly, make your voice as sultry as possible. He watches you over the rim of his glass, eyes sparkling with intrigue. And then his mouth tilts into a sort of knowing smirk, and he’s nodding.
“I’d really like to kiss you,” you confess.
He hums, smirk broadening.
Sets his glass down on the bar top with a soft clink, and then lowers his hand to the bare skin of your knee. You gasp at the contact, nerves fraught. The callouses on his fingers scrape against your skin in slow, rhythmic circles, goosebumps raising in their wake. His fingers are long, and as he tenses them over you, squeezing your knee once, you see the way deep blue veins flex beneath the skin, hot blood pumping through him. Your stomach turns molten.
“Is that all?” he asks, a taunting lilt to his voice.
Your mouth is dry, eyes wide as you sense the proposition in his words. The hint of something darker—something greedy—in his gaze.
“No,” you say definitively. “That’s not all.”
A sharp tut escapes his mouth, fingertips dragging higher on your leg as he shakes his head. “Do you have any idea how old I am?”
“Don’t look a day over forty,” you hazard a guess, resting your shoe onto the rung of his stool, using the leverage to drag yours closer. Both your legs are between his now, thighs bracketing thighs. The denim of his jeans scrapes against your outer thighs, and you shiver. His hand pauses, fingertips just shy of the hem of your skirt.
Joel wets his lips. “Guess again, sweetheart.”
A low heat licks at the base of your spine, spreading its way through your veins until you feel like you could combust at any given moment. Fuck it.
“Don’t care,” you mutter, and drape your hand over his. You trace your nails over his skin, feel how the bones shift underneath it, how warm he is. He still doesn’t move, face pensive as he regards you. You arch an eyebrow. “You approached me, you know.”
His lips purse tightly. Another squeeze to your thigh, fingers moving again. “I know.”
Driven by boldness, by arcane desire, by animalistic instinct, you lean forward on your barstool and rest your hands atop the thick expanse of his thighs. Hear his breath kick as your nose traces the side of his square jaw, lips settling at the shell of his ear. Right at the soft, sloping crest of his neck. And you whisper those same words again, quiet enough that no one in the world can hear it but him, can I tell you something?
Your movement drove his hand higher on your thigh, the heavy weight of it now settled beneath your skirt, fingertips skimming the indent where your leg meets your hip, toying at the soft fabric of your underwear there. Painfully close to where you want him.
“Yes,” his deep voice rumbles.
Ever so slowly, your tongue slides out of your mouth to trail against his earlobe. Joel’s thighs tense beneath your palms, and you roll the balls of your thumbs against the muscles there.
“I want to kiss you,” you murmur. “So I’m going to. And then I want you to fuck me, just like I know you want to.” Your teeth graze his lobe, and you bite it once, gently, before rearing your face back to peer at him. “Hmm?”
The muscle in his jaw jumps, shifting beneath the skin, and instead of responding verbally he cups your face with a rough hand. Cool drops of condensation from the glass have stuck to his fingers, and the liquid smears across your skin as he cradles your jaw and draws your mouth to his.
Soft lips envelop yours, the coarse hairs of his moustache tickling your face as he steals the breath from your lungs. And when you lick into his mouth you can taste peppermint on his teeth, and then that oh so familiar whiskey tang across his tongue. You don’t mind the taste so much when it’s on his lips.
You nuzzle closer, dig your fingertips firmer into his thighs and grin when a deep groan falls from his mouth into yours. Wet heat pools between your thighs, liquid fire that stokes at your insides, begging for more more more of him. And, as if he can read your mind, Joel is dragging his mouth away, teeth grazing against your swollen bottom lip as he departs.
“Bathroom,” he says, voice low and commanding. “Now.”
Shock and excitement lace your blood, the proposition of something so dirty, so lewd, making your heart race. With your pulse a dull, thrashing roar in your ears, you allow Joel to help you down from your stool. Your legs feel unsteady now that you’re back on solid ground. Gripping your hand, dwarfing it in his, Joel tugs you away from the bar top and towards an obscured hallway. You amble past the bachelorette party, down the dark hall and then he’s pressing a dark hand against the ambulant bathroom door and dragging you inside, sliding the lock shut behind you.
Joel’s on you in a second, arms bracketing you against the door as his wet mouth slips over yours. His hands are so big, all wide palms and long fingers splaying across the entirety of your back, tucking you against his solid chest. He bunches your shirt in his hand, twisting the material between his fingers as he pushes into your mouth. Tongue hot and wet, gliding against your teeth, your tongue, tasting you, devouring you. there’s nothing polite about it. No more wariness, no more hesitation, no more eyes that could see the two of you at the bar. He’s insatiable, touching you everywhere he possibly can, and even then it doesn’t seem like enough for him.
“Fuck, I want you,” you say against his mouth. He makes a low sound in response, and one of his palms lower to grab a handful of your ass, dragging your hips against his. You can feel him, hot and hard, straining in the confines of his jeans. Your hand presses into the crevice between your bodies to palm him through the material, grinning into the kiss when he groans. His lips trail a slick path across your cheek, past your jaw.
“Gonna let me fuck you here?” his hot breath fans across your neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty sweat there.
“Yeah,” you say. “Fuck—yes.”
He steps back, dragging you with him, and then he’s turning you around so that you’re facing the mirror. Your hips dig into the sink, and he’s holding you there, forcing you to stare at your reflection as he bites and licks and sucks down your neck with reckless abandon, leaving marks in his wake. There’s a low, steady throbbing at the apex of your thighs, and you can feel how your underwear clings to your skin, damp and ruined. You whimper, tilt your chin up to give him access to more skin. He grinds against your ass in response, and then he’s crouching down on the ground behind you.
Fast hands push your skirt up over your hips and then flare across your ass, massaging the flesh there. You feel a nip of teeth against the sensitive skin there and flinch into the porcelain. He makes quick work of dragging your underwear down to dangle precariously at your knees. And then long fingers are spreading you apart, revealing you to him. You tilt your hips back so he can see more. Moan at the sensation of cool air rushing to meet your dripping core.
You think you can hear him speaking, but can’t be sure over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the low music playing in the bar. And then it doesn’t matter anymore, because you can feel his hot tongue glide through your folds, parting you like the sea. He buries his face in you, nose nudging against your asshole as his tongue swipes at your clit, moaning roughly as he absorbs the taste of you. You’re gasping, hooded eyes staring back at you in the mirror, and this time you can definitely hear him saying you’re so fuckin’ wet. The flat of his tongue smears from your clit to your entrance, and then he’s sinking it inside you. You reach behind your back and card your fingers through his hair, gripping the salt and pepper curls between your fingers and holding him against you. Joel doesn’t complain, groaning as you tug on his locks in encouragement, in fucking desperation.
Your thighs tremble where they bracket his head, threatening to squeeze around him at any moment if it weren’t for his vice grip keeping your spread apart. A choked sob of a moan claws its way out of your throat and then he’s standing again, chest against your back as you hear the clink of his belt coming undone, and he’s saying, I know, I know, you need it so bad, don’t you?
Your hand skirts around the firm sink and slips between your thighs, fingertips ghosting over your throbbing clit. The sound of foil crinkling echoes around the room, and you hear him exhale a ragged sigh as he rolls the condom down his length. You peek over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, eyes widening as you take in the sheer size of his length. It’s long, with a prominent vein running from base to tip. It pulses, raging beneath the skin, practically daring you to drop down and run your tongue along the length of it. And you would if you thought he’d let you.
“Shit,” you breathe, skin tingling with a fresh wave of nerves and anticipation.
“It’s alright,” his voice is a low rasp, filling your ears like molasses, and his hand is rising to push stray hairs out of your face. “So fuckin’ wet f’me, I know you can take it, honey. You gonna show me how good you take co—”
He cuts himself off, eyes narrowing as he spots your fingers shifting between your thighs.
“So impatient,” he smacks your hand away with a grunt. “Silly little slut, can’t wait just a minute for me?”
A broken moan falls from your lips, shameful heat soaring through your chest. You shouldn’t love the way that word sounds falling from his lips, shouldn’t be so turned on by it, but you can feel how the ache in your core intensifies, and so you push your hips back against him.
“’m sorry,” you whine pitifully.
“You want it that bad?” Joel asks. His lips brush your earlobe as he nudges the thick head of his cock between your folds, gliding it through your slick once, twice, before notching himself at your entrance.
“I want it,” you gasp. “Wanted it from the second I saw you, Joel, please, pleas—”
Joel curses under his breath and loops a hand around your front, pushing the neckline of your shirt down to reveal your left breast. He slips his palm underneath the cup of your bra, long fingers pinching at the peaked bud of your nipple. Your skin burns under the attention, and you push your chest further into his hold.
“Shit,” he grunts, beginning to press himself inside. “I wanna fuckin’—wreck you, sweetheart.”
“Whatever you want,” you’re pleading, arching your back for him. Your fingers tighten around porcelain, bracing yourself. “Give it to me.”
You hear a muted, dark chuckle before Joel says, “Whatever I want, huh?”
And then he’s pressing inside you with a single, harsh thrust. His thighs come flush with yours and you gasp, face twisting at the sharp sting. The weight of him inside you is heavy, and you squirm at the intrusion, shifting on your feet. He allows you a moment—just a moment—to adjust to him, before he’s moving.
Joel finds a pace he likes and sets it. Heavy, unrelenting, expert rolls of his hips that have his tip brushing against the opening of your cervix with every shift forward. The air fills with harsh sounds of skin smacking against skin, and stilted moans and spilling from your lips as your hipbones collide rhythmically with the sink.
“Christ,” he spits, hand leaving your breast to grip your jaw. He forces your face forward, pace never slowing. “Fuckin’ look at you.”
You do as your told, gazing at yourself in the mirror. And you look wrecked. Hair a wild halo around your head, makeup smudged around your eyes and mouth, lips swollen and shiny with spit.
“Bein’ so—fuckin’—good,” he punctuates the words with his thrusts. His thumb digs into your cheek, and you can see him grinning in the mirror, lips peeled back to reveal that fucking perfect smile. “Dirty little thing, lettin’ a stranger fuck you like this.”
You mewl in response, stomach tensing as his cock grazes a particularly sensitive spot within you. Joel notices and seizes your waist, one hand holding you in place and the other falling to rub your clit while he pistons into you from behind.
“Shit,” you cry, eyes pinching shut as the intense medley of pleasure and pain begins to overwhelm you. Your orgasm claws its way up your chest.
“Yeah, you like that, huh?” he’s panting. “Can you feel you squeezin’ me, sweetheart. Go on, give it t’me, show me how wet that pretty pussy gets when you come.”
“Oh, fuck, oh—oh god, Joel.”
Your lungs feel empty, chest on fire as you rake in rapid breaths. Your entire body is constricting, muscles in your stomach drawn tight as you press firmer against the sink, thighs shaking with every impact of his hips against the plush of your ass. The pressure makes your head spin. And then something in the base of your spine snaps, and you’re falling apart in his grasp. Joel curses behind you, but the sound is faint, almost inaudible over the ringing in your ears. Your vision goes white, body shifting forward as he fucks you through the high.
And even as you begin to come down, muscles going lax and body slumping against the sink, Joel is relentless. He uses you; gripping your hips to keep them tilted at the perfect angle, and just fucking wrecks you, exactly like he said he wanted to. A stream of profanities fill the air as his movements become disjointed, and you know he’s close. Can feel the way his cock twitches inside you, desperate for release. You tilt your face to the side and stare at him over your shoulder. Those dark eyes meet yours and his face crumbles, hand reaching to grip your shoulder and hold you down as he nears the precipice. You rut your ass back against him and he almost shouts.
“Fuck,” he growls. “That’s it, that’s it..”
And then he’s coming, cock jerking inside you in sporadic movements, and you’re wishing he hadn’t worn a condom so you could feel the heat of him spread inside your cunt. It’s intense, the yearning you feel to have him dripping out of you once he’s gone. But you settle for watching his face through bleary eyes, admiring the way his lips part and chin tilts towards the ceiling, eyes pinching closed as his body convulses against you.
For an all too brief moment, Joel doesn’t move. He slumps against your back, forehead resting in the gap between your shoulder blades, and just breathes. Haggard, drawn out exhales that send whisps of your hair flying forward into your face but you don’t care, too blissed out and relaxed underneath his weight to say anything. And then he’s straightening, and you gasp in unison as he grips your waist and slips out of you. There’s a determined ache between your thighs, pussy clenching around his absence, missing the weight of him already.
You sag onto the cold surface. Your mind is a blur, senses dulled from the intensity of your orgasm. The music in the bar has increased, and you imagine that your roommates must be wondering where you are, but can’t bring yourself to care all that much. You can hear him throw the condom into the trash, then there’s a low rustling as he drags his boxers and jeans back up his legs. Body trembling, you close your eyes and wait. Wait to hear the door open and close as he steps out, and leaves you in the bathroom alone, as you know he inevitably will.
But instead, you feel those hands, almost familiar now, grazing your back. They drag your panties back up and smooth your rumpled skirt down over your ass.
“Hey,” a soothing voice murmurs. “You good?”
You peer at him over your shoulder, uncontained surprise no doubt evident in your face. Joel’s expression is soft; cautious. He grips your shoulder and pulls you up, straightening your body. Drags a thumb over the corner of your mouth, wiping away the lipstick smudged there. His touches are so gentle, so tender, in comparison to a few moments ago. It almost gives you whiplash, and yet you find yourself melting under his gaze, because fuck, he’s handsome.
“I’m good,” you breathe, and he bares his teeth in a smile, cupping your jaw.
“Sweet girl,” Joel says. His head shakes once, slowly, eyes darting across your features, as if trying to memorise them. “I’m gonna remember this.”
You heart is in your throat all over again.
Your fingers fumble to adjust your top, smoothing it out as you smile, humming, “Yeah… yeah, I think I will too.”
A heady silence swells between you. His thumb brushes along your lower lip again, eyes watching the way your swollen mouth yields to his touch. The tip of your tongue slides out and glides over the tip of his digit, just for a second.
“Probably got your friends all worried,” Joel says then, hand dropping to his side. “Must be wonderin’ where you got to.”
You swallow down the disappointment you feel. It burns its way down your throat and into your stomach, not unlike the whiskey had. I don’t care, you want to say. Take me home with you. But you nod and agree. Glance in the mirror and rake numb fingers through bird’s nest hair, trying to tame your wild appearance. You swear you feel his hand graze the hem of your skirt one last time, playing with the soft material while he stares at you in the mirror.
The bubble pops as he unlocks the door, outside sounds rushing in through the gap, infiltrating the space that once smelt like sex and lust and now just feels like any other room. Joel doesn’t kiss you again. Doesn’t touch you. He steps into the hall, and you follow him out. And when he trails toward one side of the bar, with a final lingering glance at you over his shoulder, you begrudgingly head in the opposite direction to the booth, where your almost strangers await you with curious eyes and pinched brows.
Tuesday.
You feel hungover on the day of your first lecture.
A dull ache blossoms behind your left eye, a persistent reminder of how little sleep you had the night before. Your fingers wrap tightly around a tall styrofoam cup, and you take slow mouthfuls of the black coffee inside, attempting to savour the liquid gold, and letting the caffeine act as a saving grace for as long as possible.
You were normally so much better than this, too. Years had passed since your undergrad, and in the past you’d prided yourself on being punctual and prepared. But apparently one of the professors for this semester had it out for you, because when the required weekly prep work for your 9 o’clock Tuesday morning lecture was released the day prior, you were stunned to find that it included an entire fucking book.
After spending a dutiful two hours going over the weekly notes and required journal articles, you’d found yourself glaring at three sentences, written casually at the bottom of the professor’s notes.
Also, read Hesiod’s ‘Theogony’. It will do you well to have these ideas and themes fresh as you undertake the first weeks of this class. See you tomorrow.
Cue you staying up until two am reading fucking Theogony, and walking to your first lecture with a near-permanent yawn sprawled across your face.
As you approach history commons, a guy wearing a bottle green shirt that reads UNIVERSITY OF NEW ENGLAND in garish gold lettering shakes a pamphlet in your direction. It has a picture of a girl in a tiny athletic uniform on the front, preparing to spike a volleyball. You avoid eye contact and sidestep him quickly, continuing into the building.
The theatre room is easy enough to find.
Thirty odd chairs line the space on an incline, all facing toward a desk at the front of the room. A projector hangs from the ceiling, displaying the beginning of a slide show on a white wall. The slide is a muted beige colour, with stark black lettering that spells out: The Language and Literature of the Odyssey and the Aeneid.
Your professor stands with his back to the room, shuffling through a myriad of notebooks and loose-leaf pages splayed across the desk. Standard.
You traipse your way up the stairs, buoyed along by the steady stream of other students shuffling into the room, and take a seat a few rows from the front. Not too far back that you seem disinterested, and not so close that your professor will notice you falling asleep on the first day.
You open your notes on your laptop and then slump back into your chair, slurping down the final morsels of coffee in your cup before discarding it to the floor by your feet. And then the room quietens as a final group of students file in, heavy door swinging closed behind them, and you allow your eyes to rest upon the man at the foot of the space.
He’s tall. It’s impossible not to notice that first. Tall and broad. A thin white dress shirt stretches across the arch of his back, fighting to pull free from where it’s tucked neatly into the waist of his brown pants. From where you’re seated, you can see a dark head of hair shaking side to side every few moments, the man muttering inaudibly as he peers down at his notes.
You glance down at your laptop again. Watch your cursor blink against the white screen. And then you hear it.
“Alright folks,” an all too familiar voice drawls. “Let’s get down to it.”
You stiffen in your chair. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, palms going damp as a memory flits through your brain. One of your own voice.
An accent like that is hard to ignore.
You can’t make out what he’s saying anymore, every word overpowered by the sudden roar of your own heartbeat in your ears.
Slowly—so fucking slowly—you peel your eyes away from your laptop and glance upward.
And there he is, in all his glory. Pearly white smile. Strong jaw. Dark eyes.
Joel… your professor.
Fuck.
thank you for reading!! x
#my writing#fic: a lover's pinch#professor!joel#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller smut#ALP
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Give Me Shelter, For My Heart | Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader | One Shot? 3k
Things are missing around the Avengers' compound and a newly returned Bucky is acting weirder than normal...Steve and Sam go to investigate and discover more than they bargained for.
Warnings: 18+ for language and suggestion of Hydra violence/torture/experimentation, omegaverse themes including alpha & omega, suggestion of pregnancy/pups, wolf shifting Rated F for Fluff and G for good friends
Challenges & Prompts: @buckybarnesevents Alpha Bucky April with extra prompts - word count, nesting, purring, beta characters, (I'll let mods decide if this hits the breeding/baby fever prompt). And @fandom-free-bingo 'forehead kisses'
Graphic by me and Canva, dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes
“Hmm,” Steve looked around the supply room, surveying the gaps and empty shelves, normally well stocked with blankets and provisions. It was the third time this week he’d found himself at a loss, not just for words but his things too. Everything seemed to be going missing.
First it was a few plates and mugs from the galley kitchen by his office, then it’d been the lunch he’d left for him and Bucky in the fridge. Last night he’d gone into Bucky’s room to make sure he was okay and found the man sleeping on a bare mattress, all the sheets, pillows and blankets were gone and the newly revived Bucky refused to explain what had happened to them or even acknowledge that there was anything wrong at all. He hadn’t even addressed that fact that the window was wide open and it looked as if he was sleeping in his shoes.
Which brought Steve’s thoughts to the man himself. Bucky had been so odd since he’d returned. For a day or two, he’d been something like his old self, despite the awful situation they found themselves in, he’d joked with Steve and reminisced with the few memories he had. They’d enjoyed a beer together and he’d even met with Tony during their mediation and patched things up.
Then, they’d all climbed onto the jet and he’d become distant, pacing like a caged animal until they’d landed. As soon as the doors were open he’d vanished for forty-eight hours and sent the entire compound into mayhem before strolling back in as if nothing had happened, bruised and covered in blood. Judging by the bandages he sported later that day, his cuts and bruises spread under his shirt and trousers too.
Steve knew that he’d changed during his time with Hyrda, back in the 30s they’d both been betas, happy to plod along ignoring the madness of the few alpha’s in Brooklyn. It had been a rare thing then, to be an alpha, now they were considered a dying breed, so when Bruce’s tests had revealed that Bucky was an alpha now, they’d tried to take it in their stride that he might go off on his own sometimes, especially since omegas were even rarer. But there was still so much they didn’t know, so much to unpack and discover about the Bucky they’d rescued, and Steve was so desperate to spend time getting to know this new man that all the time apart was making him worry.
“You okay?” Sam asked from the doorway, leaning in to hand Steve a hot cup of coffee.
“Just doing a stock check.”
“He take something else?” Sam stepped into the small room, lined with shelves and shelves of tents, camping stoves, parachutes, it seemed to go on and on. The bare grey shelves where stock was missing was stark against the white washed walls.
“He?”
“Barnes,” Sam sipped his coffee, matter of fact, and Steve confronted the worry that had been plaguing him.
“It’s Bucky, isn’t it?” Steve dropped his head heavily and Sam patted him on the back, still sipping his drink.
“Sorry man, told you, he’s not right yet. He’s not hurting anyone though, if he hates his bedding, who cares, if he hates your lunches, who could blame him.”
Sam sidestepped Steve’s halfhearted swipe with a grin on his face.
“But what’s he doing with it, Sam? Where’s it all going?”
“Hell, I don’t know, have you asked him?” Sam raised his eyebrows.
Had Steve asked his best friend, who flinched at his touch and shied away from any conversations? Bucky who vanished for hours at a time and came back looking as if he’d been dragged through a hedge? No, he hadn’t. He’d been too scared to confront what might be going on, what latent part of his programming might be at play.
“Look, if you’re too scared to ask why don’t I?”
Now it was Steve’s turn to raise his eyebrow, it wasn’t that Sam and Bucky didn’t get along, they just didn’t get along yet. Steve was working on it.
“What if we…followed him?” He offered instead and Sam laughed again.
“Who knew Captain America was scared of his own friends,” he couldn’t contain the chuckles. “Fine, fine. Let’s keep an eye on him.” Sam turned to the ceiling, more comfortable with the AI than Steve was. “FRIDAY, if Sergeant Barnes leaves his room, please can you alert us - privately?”
“Of course,” the soft voice answered and Steve gave his friend a weak smile.
FRIDAY’S alert went off twice a day, every day, over the next week. But despite their best efforts neither Steve nor Sam managed to catch up with Bucky.
It wasn’t until the following Saturday that they managed to follow him. Bucky was supposed to be at a training session to get his official certifications but they’d both had a feeling he’d try and skip it. As predicted they’d spotted the blue of his new henley edging around the side of the compound, a full backpack strapped to his back.
Bucky ran across the grass and towards the thick forest. His still uncut hair was tied back but tendrils fell out as he sprinted into the wind.
He was surprisingly loud, as he strode quickly between the trees, snapping twigs and branches that Steve knew he could’ve dodge even before the serum and his training. Sam looked at him, both of their feet silent as they followed.
Bucky’s speed increased as he turned his face up into the breeze, his backpack jostled against the trees, bouncing when he began to run.
Steve kept up, sending Sam wide, into the breeze, in case Bucky doubled back.
Just as he was starting to feel lost in the repetition of trees and ferns, Bucky burst into a clearing and Steve slammed to a halt.
The pine trees gave way to a small patch of clear sky, shining down on an old shed. Unlike the other abandoned guard houses, this one had obviously been cleaned recently. The small porch was swept and a pair of Avengers camping chairs were arranged neatly facing into the forest. A line had been strung between the cabin and the trees where one of the missing blankets fluttered in the gentle wind.
Steve crouched down, motioning to Sam on the other side of the clearing to stay out of sight.
Bucky approached slowly, “Cățeluș, are you here?”
At first there was nothing and then a wolf nosed its way out from behind the door, it’s chestnut brown fur almost gold in the sunlight. It leaped forwards from the porch and shot across the clearing, leaping into Bucky’s arms.
Steve whipped his head up to try and find Sam and by the time his eyes found Bucky again the wolf was gone, replaced by a woman pulling on a large t-shirt from Bucky’s backpack.
“James!” Her sweet voice rang out in the otherwise quiet forest.
Swamped by Bucky’s familiar red henley, you shot from the door and into Bucky's waiting arms, the back pack dropped to the floor and forgotten.
She was swamped by Bucky’s red henley and he wrapped you in his arms, one large hand on the back of your head, tucking you into his neck. The other supported your legs, now wrapped around his waist.
In the clearing Bucky's shoulders relaxed as he sank into your embrace, kissing and nipping at your neck. In return you tipped your head, practically purring at the attention and wriggling in his arms.
“Have you been okay, baby.” Bucky asked, pulling away enough to look you over.
“I'm okay, I missed you though, James, please don't leave me again.” You begged cupping his stubbled cheeks in your hands.
Bucky turned into your palm and kissed it, “I know, I know, I’ve been making sure it’s safe for you.”
Steve's heart sank. Bucky didn't feel safe?
“You trust me, don't you, my little omega.” Bucky rubbed his nose into your cheek and you giggled, holding him even tighter, your hands in his hair.
An omega?
Sam stared over at Steve, eyes wide.
It was clear to them both that this was no chance encounter and all Bucky’s odd behaviour suddenly started to make more sense.
Steve motioned for Sam to leave, they could sneak back to the compound and perhaps bring this up tentatively. Perhaps leave some items you might like lying around in the hopes that Bucky would take them and understand that his secret was out, but it was safe.
Sam moved swiftly round the clearing as Steve continued to watch Bucky.
Bucky vanished into the cabin, leaving you on the porch alone, snuggled into his shirt and pressing the collar to your nose.
“She’s cute,” Sam whispered, squeezing up against Steve, still hiding in the overgrown ferns that lined the edge of the cabin.
“We can’t let her sleep out here. She must be hungry and cold.”
Bucky emerged from the cabin carrying two of the missing mugs, balancing them carefully on the railing before scooping you up into his lap. His hand hovered by his mouth, sipping in slow motion as his eyes scanned the tree line and Steve took a breath, sitting back quickly.
“Stay here, Cățeluș,” he was up in a flash, eyes always on the tree line even when he reached into his boot to pull out a familiar gerber knife.
Instead of flipping it into his palm, he balanced it on the arm of your camping chair. Eyes still on the trees he placed his metal hand on top of your head, “stay here and stay safe, follow the plan, do what you need to.” His voice was low, series, almost a growl. Far away from the happy, loving tones he’d been speaking to you with before.
You nodded, and as soon as he felt your head move he was up and off the porch.
Steve and Sam looked up in time to see a wolf leap towards them.
It was true then, the experiments had worked and Steve had the cold feeling that returned every time he discovered something new about his friend during a fight, but he had no time to worry about it now. Not when the wolf was closing in on them.
It was huge, its white fur dusted with fallen leaves, but its teeth gleamed in the afternoon sun as he pounced, snarling. His paws the size of dinner plates slamming into the ground in front of them, teeth bared and snarling.
Steve rolled away, pulling Sam with him and covering his body, regretting not bringing the shield.
“Bucky!” Sam shouted from under Steve’s arm
“Bucky it’s us we don’t want to hurt you!”
The wolf pulled back from the two men pinned beneath him, and something like clarity passed over Bucky’s icey blue eyes and he sat on his haunches, head cocked to one side, ears floppy. Then it stood, rounding the bushes and, in a blink, the man had reappeared still hiding before the foliage to cover his naked body.
“Steve -” Bucky looked thoroughly confused,
“Bucky, we’re so sorry we shouldn’t have followed you.”
“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice wavered, his body cold without his fur and with his clothes left behind in the cabin.
“We were worried about you, man, you’ve been so weird - stealing stuff, going missin’, can you blame us for getting creeped out?” Sam raised his eyebrows and Bucky’s brow furrowed.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, I just had to -” he gestured back towards the cabin and, as if remembering he’d left you behind with no way of knowing he was safe he turned and ran back to the clearing.
Steve and Sam jumped up, chasing after Bucky once more.
The cabin porch was empty when Steve picked his way down the slope of mud and rocks into the clearing.
A howl rang out as he got closer to the little house, a high, pained sound and then the response came, low and level.
There were two wolves now, hidden at the side of the cabin in the shadows.
The white wolf kept itself half turned towards Steve and Sam, who kept quiet and still, barely daring to breathe, allowing its companion to approach slowly.
The brown wolf dropped in front of the white, ears flat back against its head, and then rolled over, showing a soft belly that the white wolf nuzzled gently before turning back to Steve and barking sharply.
Steve held his hands up and the wolf barked again, turning tail and returning to the cabin.
It took only moments for Bucky to show himself on the porch, pulling his henley back down over his now dirt streaked belly.
“Come in,” he gestured up the stairs and vanished again.
The cabin, though run down, was well kept. The porch was swept of leaves and there was even a little mat by the door.
“Shoes,” you whispered, pulling on Bucky’s sleeve as you entered the main living space, making an attempt to hide behind him. You’d dressed again too, also in one of Bucky’s henleys and a pair of leggings that Steve recognised as Avengers recruit issue.
“Do you mind?” Bucky asked while Steve and Sam stared between you both.
“Shoes,” you turned to look up at Bucky again, eyes pleading in one moment and then flicking to the two new men treading mud into your home.
“Your shoes, take them off.” Bucky helped them arrange their boots neatly by the door while you pottered around the fireplace. “This is her nest,” he whispered, making sure the doormat was straight and the little curtain was neat over the window. “It’s important to omegas, to her,” you turned shooting a glare over your shoulder, “to us-that it’s kept just right and she hates shoes inside.”
In the small living space a camping stove had been set up with a kettle, a portable fridge, and an assortment of mugs, both Avengers field regulation and novelty, which were set neatly on the mantel. You chose four, and placed them next to the kettle while it steamed happily away.
Bucky spoke softly to you in a mixture of English and Romanian, but you didn’t come any closer to the strange men. You’d seen them before, on the television and in Bucky’s notebooks, but now that they were here, so large and imposing, you couldn’t bring yourself to even look over.
“This is Cățeluș, well, that’s not her real name but we couldn’t find that. She - uh -” you watched Bucky struggle for words and lay a hand on his cheek, smiling warmly up at him. Your Winter, your James. “-I don’t want to say the word, it upsets her, but she was with me when I was - him - part of the experiments.”
You poured the tea quietly, watching the steam rise into the darts of sun making their way through the broken knots of wood in the wall, and you took a deep breath. With shaking hands you gave the first man, Sam, a cup. He had a gentle face, a wide smile and he didn’t look at you with pity, as you feared, only interest.
The second man held his breath as you approached, keeping his hands as close to his body as possible until you pushed the cup towards him. Steve. Bucky had lots of pictures of Steve in his notebooks and had told you more stories than you could remember, but he didn’t look sickly, he looked too big for the space, his shoulders drawn in, slouched. You appreciated that he was trying not to look scary, even though your every nerve was on edge.
Bucky took the proffered mug from your hands with a kiss to your forehead and you sighed, allowing him to steer you to the only arm chair in the room and then passing you your own tea.
“We got out, eventually and - I brought her here.” Bucky sat on the rolled arm of the chair, draping his own arm over your shoulders and fitting you into his side.
Steve and Sam could only stare.
“Why didn’t you bring her to the compound? She can stay -” Steve turned to you, “you can stay, either in Bucky’s room or you can have your own room if you’d prefer.”
It took you a moment to process the offer, but eventually you shook your head, turning into Bucky’s side.
“It was awful - in there, with them she, we both -” Bucky struggled for the words, the desire to protect you rising inside
“It’s okay,” Sam said carefully, “I know the transition’s been rough on you, Bucky, I can’t imagine what it’s been like for her, how you even got her out here. But there’s nothing to be afraid of, maybe she’ll come with you? If you suggest it?”
Sam kept looking at you, his eyes soft and encouraging but you turned away, pressed your face into Bucky’s ribs where his scent had soaked through his shirt, reassuring and primal, chanting in your head Alpha, safe, Alpha, safe. You did miss him, when he was gone, but how could he keep you safe in that place.
You’d seen it, once or twice, through the trees when you took a walk, looking for whatever you could find in the forest. Guards left lots of things behind, bottles and coats and jackets, useful things. You collected them all, skirting around the edge of that horrid white building and hoping to never see the terrifying things that flew out of it, men in suits and robots, it was too much.
“You can bring whatever you like with you, and maybe Nat and Wanda could help you with some new things, if you liked?” Steve followed Sam’s lead, keeping his voice steady and low.
“James - my nest.” You mumbled, gripping his henley in your fist.
He dropped a hand onto your head, “we can do whatever you like, baby. You want to stay here, we can stay, you want to go to the compound, we’ll go.”
You felt Bucky’s heart rate pick up, its beat hammering and your anxiety grew too, your breathing more ragged, you turned even further into him, practically climbing into his lap, the henley you’d taken from him riding up.
Instantly you knew it was a mistake, the scars of your time in Hydra were still visible, raised on your skin, yellowing patches of healing bruises and calloused skin from repeated bouts in the chair.
Sam and Steve could barely conceal their inhale of breath.
“Bucky, did you get her checked by a doctor or…” Sam trailed off, Bucky looked angry again, his arms fully surrounding you.
“And what would I have said, Sam?” He growled, “I know she looks like she’s been kept in a cage and beaten but please don’t arrest me, I promise it wasn’t me? Her social security number? Sorry, I don’t have it, we don’t even know her name. I did the best I could.” His anger tipped over into a resigned sadness. Bucky cupped your face in one hand and forced you to look up at him, “I did the best I could, baby, I really did.”
You nodded and his grip loosened so you could nuzzle into his chest again, your own tears running down your cheeks at the memory of those early days. Bucky’s shaking hands patching up your burns and cuts, the whisky you’d slugged before he pulled out a stray bullet from your arm and stitched it with floss. Every touch had been gentle though, every time he’d changed your bandages or cleaned you up, it had been gentle. It had been everything he could give you.
“We didn’t mean it like that, Buck,but we could help, get her checked over and then you can come back here.” Sam’s voice was plaintive, deliberately soothing and it made Bucky’s blood boil.
“I’m not taking her to that place.” He bit back, there was no mistaking the way he curled you into his body, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around your back.
It didn’t hurt anymore, to be touched, but then it’d never hurt to be touched by James. His hands had always been careful with you, his strength used only for protection and it was for that reason that you lay your trust in him completely.
“Don’t make me go, Alpha.” You whispered, your lips brushing the base of his neck where you’d marked him, right over his scent gland, your teeth marks an eternal brand. You nuzzled into him, your chest rumbling again.
“I won’t make you go,” he looked back at Steve and Sam, the finality of his decision sat heavily in the air.
“Can we at least bring some medical things here? Would you let Sam check you out?” Steve offered, he was increasingly concerned by the way Bucky had retreated into the chair, his own legs now curled up on the overstuffed cushion.
Above you, James nodded once, “just you and Sam, don’t tell anyone else. I’ll know if you tell anyone else.” The panic edging Bucky’s voice had Steve raising his hands in surrender.
“I promise, Buck, just Sam and I.”
Sam and Steve left the cabin at dusk while you and Bucky watched from the deck. As soon as they were beyond the trees he pulled you even tighter against his chest, his heat warm.
“Everything is going to be okay, baby, I promise, no one’s going to ever, ever, hurt you again.” His hands slid down your arms and across the slow swell of your belly. “But we should consider their offer, make sure we’re making a choice that’s good for you and me, as well as them.” His palm pushed up under your shirt, splayed on your tight skin and, deep inside, your pup pushed back.
#bucky#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x female reader#alpha bucky barnes#alpha!bucky#alpha bucky x reader#alpha bucky x omega reader#omegaverse#bucky barnes events#Alpha Bucky April
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la playa - jude bellingham x reader
" yo te lo hice a ti en la playa / justo al frente de la orilla / ella y yo no somo' nada pero solo entre comilla "
pairing: jude bellingham x latina!reader
summary: situationship!jude asked to spend the summer vacations with you. he's been looking at you with something other than his hungry eyes for some time now.
wc: 2.0k
warnings: really short instagram aus at both the beginning and the end, situationship where they both clearly fell for each other but won't discuss it, pet names in spanish, NSFW, semi-public sex, soft dom!jude if you squint, teasing, p in v, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all), creampie, cockwarming, fluff (aka two big goofs in love).
A/N: i haven't written a fic in more than a year but i'm on break from uni and this man has been plaguing my every thought UGHH i'm also tired of january, it should be spring break already so i'm manifesting that energy into both this fic and the new year !! reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :>
now playing... la playa by myke towers
yourusername verano contigo 🤍
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, settling your phone down after the content had been uploaded.
You met Jude by spare chance. You’d been living in Madrid for a bit more than a year, occupied with your studies by the time the star boy reached the promised land. Jogging in Valdebebas at six thirty in the morning and having a black car pull up next to you was the way you were sure you were leaving this earth, instead finding a footballer asking for directions at the other side of the rolled-down window.
You easily discover the real reason later on. He was not lost, but had seen you around the residential complex; he’d only gotten the courage to talk to you after taking a big jug of coffee that morning, or so he claimed.
You’d noticed he had been staring at your glistening skin as you tanned your backside, but decided against commenting until the cheeky smile started to blossom. “Nothin’ “ He shook his head, but a tiny smile was half hidden behind his plush lips, giving away other intentions. The sun was so bright it was dazing, you’d sat under it for a while now hoping to darken your skin. The heat felt funny inside your tummy, similar to how Jude made your guts churn whenever he hooked your legs over his shoulders. “You’re sitting too far. C’mere.”
“Jude, mi rey, we’ve been holding hands the whole time I’ve been tanning.” You replied shortly, looking at him from behind your shades.
“Not close enough.” He practically whined, tugging at your arm with need, coercing you to get up and sit on his lap under the shade.
“Better?” You asked from your newfound place in his crotch, warm bodies coming in contact as you settled. You noticed him nod, his arm wrapping your waist in a way his forearm rested against your bare abdomen covering your belly button.
“Why won’t you post me?” His lower lip puckered out, eliciting a laugh out of you as you turned to face him briefly before turning towards the vast ocean in front of you. A small groan left his lips at the innocent movement.
After analyzing the vivid memory of his face, and thinking through your words, you spoke up. “Didn’t know if you wanted me to.” Once again, got comfortable in his lap. A sigh followed, coming from the man behind you.
“Have I ever told you how much I like that bikini on you?” Jude spoke after a minute or so of comfortable silence. You felt him toying with the drawstring of the bottoms. You could also feel something poking at your bare ass. “But not as much as I like you…”
“I think you’ve mentioned how you wanted to take it off.” Your voice barely came out; a mumble almost, ignoring the last sentence. Your heart thud against your chest, louder than it had done before when he questioned his presence— or lack thereof— in your vacation post. You peered around the area, only to find the waves crashing close to your beach beds’ location, and pearl-ish white sand spread for miles on end— just the two of you.
You felt him nod again, his chin brushing against your shoulder. Though he confirmed your suspicions of his true intentions, Jude’s hand didn’t undo the strap that held together the skimpy bikini. Instead, his fingers trailed the hem of the swimsuit, barely touching the warm skin. “Can I?”
The tone of his voice was low, the manner only brought goosebumps down your spine. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being eager, or at least the stupor of the hot day didn’t allow you to nod fast enough for you to look desperate. “You don’t know how happy I am to get you like this…” His hand sneaked under the piece at a painfully slow pace. Even though you knew what was going to happen, your breath got stuck in your throat.
“You always get me like this whenever you please.” It could be a complaint coming from anyone else, but it was just the reality of the situation. The relationship between you and Jude was… unclear. Feelings had been owned up to, but a title hadn’t been discussed. In fact, this was the first trip you tagged along; he asked you personally to do so. But you still decided against reading too much into it.
“You were saying, love?” Jude chuckled with malice, smirking at the way your skin prickled up at his touch applied to the bundle of nerves between your legs— which also spread involuntarily to give him better access. The way your words morphed with the moans and delirious sighs brought only further satisfaction to the British national.
“Don’t get all sassy with me.” You complained through a breathy laugh, eyes falling shut. His other hand trailed upwards your torso, to rest against your breasts and get straight into the task of cupping the left one first. The circles to your clit were steady, too steady for your liking. But still good enough to enjoy, and your moans let him know he was doing a stellar job. As per usual.
“What do you want, amor?” You managed to ask. Jude could’ve internally cursed, you knew him too well. A little too well for his liking. Instead of providing an answer, he pressed harder against your clit, the pressure catching you off guard, doubling down the attitude too.
“You,” Jude replied after what seemed years after he couldn’t take any more of your squirming. “Just you, all for me.” You could feel his stubble brushing against your shoulder before his lips pressed onto the length of your neck. It was all too much for you; the heat, the bright sun, the dryness settling in your tongue, his hands touching your body, his hard, clothed cock pressing against your backside, and the coil tightening in your lower stomach.
But he stopped.
Almost bewildered, you gasped, at the same time he undid the bunny ears that kept your swimsuit together. A smile crept onto your face as you turned to face him, thighs on either side of his hips. “You’re looking at me like that again.” You noted humbly, undoing the string of your bra. He couldn’t even formulate a response at the sight of your bare body, eyes scanning every inch, adoring the fresh tan lines.
“How could I not? You’re perfect.” Jude breathed out, leaning forward to catch his lips in yours. It was slow, but oozing with need and passion. You felt a pressure built up in your stomach, sparks, but you hesitated if he ever felt those around you.
“My perfect girl.” He breathed against your lips, hands holding onto your hips as he watched you undo the string that held his swimsuit tighter to his waist. He helped you pull the item down, barely resting at his upper thighs.
He leaned forward once again to catch your lips on his, letting out a tiny groan as you leaned further, just to tease him. “Kiss me,” Jude whined, stomach tightening at the firm grip around his shaft.
“Tranquilo, mi rey.” You cooed, working him up by rubbing his swollen tip on the warm and wet hole before finally sinking down his length. A pair of harmonious groans left both of your lips once you sat in his lap again, hips circling to get accustomed to the stretch.
“I can’t calm down when I’m obsessed with you.” Jude breathed out, large hands helping you steady the pace of your hips. He watched hypnotized by the way his cock disappeared in and out of your warm walls. His eyes were set, as though he wanted to train them to imprint the image in the back of his mind.
Your voice snapped him out of his trance. “Eyes up here, big boy.” The friendly banter defined your relationship; you often wondered if putting a label on things would make that disappear. But it was all just a wall to hide behind the adoration you felt for him, using it to dodge every compliment, in fear that none of his words were sincere. You could tell he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest when meeting your eyes, and the look you couldn’t pinpoint for the whole afternoon reappeared as he tangled his fingers in your hair and drew you right in for a kiss.
A kiss fierce enough to make you weak in the knees.
It was the perfect opportunity for Jude to accommodate his stance to start thrusting upwards, the sweetest noise he managed to squeeze out from the back of your throat was worth the tension in his core. Instantly, your back arched to give him the perfect angle. “I want you like this all the time…” He moaned into your mouth, hands on your hips to pin you down.
“Jude…” You mewled, the sound of skin coming into contact filling the empty air, harmonizing with the waves crashing near the beach spot you both occupied. You could feel your orgasm building rapidly, and Jude wasn’t foreign to the squeezing that built-up with every frantic thrust.
“C’mere doll, you’re doing so good f’me. Cum all over my cock, c’mon.” His voice was soft, the encouragement overlapping with his own groans of pleasure. He drew you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. Jude resisted the usual drawn-out teasing and mocking, now finding satisfaction in babying you as he slammed deep into you.
The string of incoherent babbles left your mouth shortly after his praises reached your ears. Jude closed his eyes to both contain himself from releasing at the way your pulsating walls were milking him so deliciously, but to also cherish the way your moans turned up the octave, nails digging into the sweaty skin of his bicep. Yet again, the heat you’ve been withstanding for the entirety of that morning hazed you, making a fantastic team with the warmth of Jude’s strong arms and the faded smell of his cologne mixed in with the salty air.
But all it took to push you right off the edge was a kiss. A single kiss pressed to your shoulder.
Your release consisted of a cocktail of your orgasm and a wave of realization crashing over you. You were head over heels with the man who was currently squishing your face against his buff chest, strong arms wrapped around your waist as he held you down. Groans and chants of your name replaced your meek moans and sighs, his cum filling you up. You allowed him the luxury of doing so every once in a while, and the dream-like stupor that enveloped your mind currently created the desire for him to do so.
The sounds of waves crashing filled the air once more, overshadowing the heavy breathing you shared. You stayed put, even cuddling closer to him as soon as the tremor left your legs. Time seemed to slow down, and you wondered how difficult the task of pulling away from him would soon be.
“Can I post you?”
Jude broke the silence, he’d been busy brushing your hair strands back into place upon the comfortable silence you’d set on. There was an arm still wrapped along the width of your waist. You pulled back to look him in the eyes, expecting to see playfulness in them, but finding a completely serious stare in return. “Since a certain someone won’t post me…”
“Oh, stop it!” You laughed, cheeks flushed at the idea. “If you think it's that great on an idea…” You puckered your lips while replicating his tone, cupping his face and planting a peck on his lips.
Jude smirked, licking his lips to chase the taste of you. But his eyes were soft, full of adoration. That look. It would blossom by just admiring your presence, or during one of his favorite activities– making you happy. “All I have are great ideas. Amazing, even.” He stole a peck off from you. You giggled, and a smile subconsciously peaked from behind his lips.
His heart flipped in his chest for the hundredth time that trip.
Jude, lost for words, just shook his head and reached for his phone. He started to wonder how a person could compete so easily with the grandiose, warmth and shine of the sun above.
But one peek down at you, snuggled up against him, answered all his questions.
judebellingham summer with you 🤍
A/N: used @ keilanilizbeth on instagram as the fc
and that pic on the left has me wishing i could match sambas with jude 😞😞
#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham x y/n#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham smut#football smut#football fic#𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader
t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!
ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3
HOMELANDER
This man hates you so fking much
Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague
Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you
However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.
He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"
Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.
You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.
"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.
"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"
"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"
"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.
Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.
He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.
"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.
He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.
"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"
"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"
Compatibility? 50%
STARLIGHT
Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.
When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.
"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"
"Uh..."
You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.
"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"
Insert her groaning out of annoyance.
Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(
"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"
Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.
"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.
In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.
It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.
Compatibility? 60%
QUEEN MAEVE
You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning
Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions
"Deadpool! The hostages!"
"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"
Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)
Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.
There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.
Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.
Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.
Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.
Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.
You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?
Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'
Compatibility? 80%
THE DEEP
Your human punching bag
If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.
For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.
Just imagine him staring at you like 😐
To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.
"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"
"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"
You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.
Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.
"Happy April Fools 😚!"
"That's next month dipshit!"
Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.
"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.
Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.
Compatibility? 5%
A-Train
He thinks you're fucked up in the head.
Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF
Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.
You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.
Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.
Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.
"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"
"Dude... seriously?"
You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.
"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"
"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"
You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.
But it's fine you'll just grow back.
You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.
Compatibility? 55%
TRANSLUCENT
He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.
There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.
At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.
You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.
The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.
Never again, he thought, never again.
He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.
Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.
You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.
After all, he can read people well.
You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky
There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.
It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.
"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"
"You get used to it"
Compatibility? 85%
BLACK NOIR
Lovers.
He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.
No seriously... he can't talk.
But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.
"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.
You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.
He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.
Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.
He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.
"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"
You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.
Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.
"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"
He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.
He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.
"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.
You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.
One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.
You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.
Compatibility? 90%
(This took a while cause I was on vacation)
#the boys#the boys x reader#the boys x you#the boys homelander#the boys starlight#the boys queen maeve#the boys the deep#the boys a train#the boys translucent#the boys black noir#the boys tv#homelander x reader#starlight x reader#queen maeve x reader#the deep x reader#a train x reader#translucent x reader#black noir x reader#homelander#starlight#queen maeve#the deep#a train#translucent#black noir#x reader#the boys amazon
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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences and quotes have been taken from different media about starcrossed lovers or forbidden love, full of angst, some bold words, some nasty ones, possessive nature and letting someone use you as a replacement. So, some toxic energy in this one. Change pronouns, locations and names as you see fit.
I love you,and I will love you until I die,and if there's a life after that,I'll love you then.
Do people always fall in love with things they can't have?
And there is a difference between having your heart break and having your soul shatter.
I'm falling in love with you.
I'm going to fuck the shit out of you. I have waited for this for such a long time. Consequences be damned.
These violent delights have violent ends.
I’m only human. And you are …all-consuming.
Don’t go into this lightly. If you’re mine, you need to understand I will burn the fucking world to the ground for you.
I will never let you go, do you hear me?
will keep you safe. And I will find a way for us to be together.
If you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.
If you were any less the man you are, I would beg you to take me with you.
If you were any less the woman you were, I would beg you to come with me.
I've known lust. This is something worse. This is a barbaric need to possess, to eliminate, to own. This is madness.
This is lust.
She’s your very own forbidden fruit.
You said you didn't want this.
We all desire what we cannot have.
Have you noticed how the boy looks at you?
Do you think I didn’t notice? The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching?
You are dangerous desire, and I am your prisoner.
We can’t do this on so many levels.
I can't even whisper her name, my heart would burst out of my chest.
But I would fight against the stars for you.
I have ruined your life.
Some lines you just don't cross.
I want to take you under the moonlight.
Having something forbidden is exciting, don't you agree?
The closer we get—the more I let you in…the more dangerous this gets.
Don’t you get it? You’re what everyone wants! But I’m not going to let them win.
Make it so I never have to dream about this again—make it so we can have this…forever.
Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.
We were doomed from the start.
Nothing is as deadly as the love of a powerful man.
But this kiss? It's ruined me. This is the type of kiss I never knew existed.
You sure about that, Dad? Because he's done everything to me.
Are you scared of me now?
You loved me - then what right had you to leave me?
I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.
One moment, you give me everything that I want, and in the next, you snatch all of that away.
It's hopeless. We can never work out.
The world didn’t want us together so I forged a new one where we would.
How could a peacock lust for a lion?
You're tattooed onto my skin, and the more I try to erase you, the deeper you sink in.
I’ve always liked you, from the first moment I saw you.
It's absurd how crazy love can make you...but even more absurd how stupid jealousy can make you.
That you and I are meant to be together, but never meant to be.
Why does fate seem always to conspire against us? To deny us life's simple pleasures?
We'll meet after this war. I'll certainly find you wherever you'll hide.
War makes fools of men and women wanton.
What offends you most, Father? That she's Catholic, or that she's poor?
If my father discovers you here, he'd cut off your little nuts and eat them. He can't stand you.
You tempress, I see you once and all I can think of is having you.
Feelings are forbidden, does not mean we cannot enjoy one another.
The more you deny me, the more I desire you. You are a plague in my mind.
Ever since we met, no one else can compare.
How can I be with someone else, when I’m with them, it’s you I see.
You can have me, think of whoever you love. For tonight.
You can pretend I'm her/him. I don't care. I just want you.
#roleplay memes#sentence meme#( cali meme. )#rp memes#rp prompt#rp musings#roleplay prompt#forbidden love#starcrossed lovers
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Arcane women + milfs (gimme ALL the ladies 😏) when their S/O runs away after a particularly bad argument...ugh I'm a whore for angst
Nuh-uh, JINX isn't letting you go anywhere, she won't let you run. Even if you're so insistent of leaving, she'll secretly follow you. She tells herself it's just to make sure you're safe. But it's also because she wants to make sure you aren't leaving her for good. Everyone abandons her but she won't let you, you can't- She thinks to herself as she chases you. As soon as Jinx catches up to you, she pulls you into a hug, clinging to you as if her life depends on it and sobbing into your shoulder.
''I'm sorry, I'm sorry for what I said but you can't leave! Don't leave me, please... I'll do anything, just stay! P-please, trinket, I'll be good, I'll listen! You're all I have... If I lose you, I lose everything. So just... stay.''
VI also isn't letting you storm off. She knows she should give you some space but she just can't deal with you leaving in tears. She chases after you, pulling you into a quiet hug. You don't have to say anything, no need to apologize, just don't cry... Vi wants you to feel safe with her and trust her. And that means staying when things are bad and not hiding from her. Just let her hold you for a bit, let her dry your tears, you can talk it all out later.
''Hey, no! I'm not letting you leave! Come on, come here, baby. I know, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you. No, no, don't cry, it's okay. I've got you, it's okay, just let me hold you for a bit. You know I hate seeing you sad, babe. I'm here.''
As much as she dislikes it, CAITLYN gives you some space. But she won't let you cry alone for long. If you don't come to her then she's coming to you first. Caitlyn doesn't mind taking the first step if it means she can see you smile again. She finds you in the garden, sniffling and silently crying on a bench. She takes a seat beside you, laying her hand on top of yours before intertwining your fingers together and lifting your connected hands so she can press a kiss against your knuckles. It's her way of letting you know that everything is going to be okay.
''There you are, I was looking all over for you. Hey... I know I said some things, things I shouldn't have said to you. I'm sorry, my dear. Could you ever forgive me for acting like a complete fool? Oh, thank goodness, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. We're going to be okay, my love, I promise you.''
MEL can be surprisingly stubborn and wants you to come to her first. Will spend some time pouting and thinking back on your fight but refuses to apologize first. But when the thought of your dejected face and the image of tears running down her cheeks plagues her thoughts, making her unable to do any work, she decides to swallow her pride and make the first move. She invites you over to dinner at her place, where she spoils and pampers you with good food and sincere compliments. She feels bad about your fight and tries to show you just how much she regrets it. However, she knows that words mean just as much as actions, maybe even more in a situation like this and does her best to apologize to you.
''My love... I hope that this evening was enough to convince you of how sorry I am. it hurt to see you like that and knowing that it was my fault... I just couldn't bear it. I love you and I want you by my side, always. That means through good and bad. Thank you for giving me another chance, I love you.''
SEVIKA lets you leave, for both her sake and yours. She knows she has a nasty temper and uses your absence as an opportunity to calm down. The last thing she wants is to hurt you or say something she doesn't mean. When you don't come back after some time, she sets off to find you and once she does, be ready to discover a whole new side of Sevika. She feels so bad for arguing with you and you swear she has never been so gentle or looked so out of place as she stutters out an apology to you. It's so endearing, you know how new this is for her and you can see how hard she's trying. She's so relieved when the two of you reconcile and pulls you into a loving bear hug, pressing a kiss against your hair.
''Hey. Look, you're mad at me, I get that. You have every right to be. What I did was shitty and I shouldn't have acted like that, I'm not angry with you for leaving and I guess I'm trying to say that... I'm sorry, y-you were right. I was totally unfair to you but... can you please come home? I-I can't sleep alone in our bed, it just doesn't feel right without you. You will? Thank fuck, I love you so much, babygirl. I'll make it up to you, I swear.''
Oh, GRAYSON absolutely hates fighting with you and does whatever she can to avoid it. But, arguments in a relationship are inevitable and she feels her heart break as you storm out of your shared apartment. She lets out a sigh and hangs her head low. It wasn't your fault that you fought, she was just on edge and stressed out from work but that didn't mean she could take it out on you. She gives you time, preparing dinner to surprise you when you come back. As soon as she hears the front door opening sometime later in the evening, Grayson wastes no time before rushing to pick you up into her arms, apologizing as she presses kisses against your face, ushering you into the warm apartment and out of the cold winter street.
''My love, you're back! I-I'm so sorry, it wasn't your fault! I've been so stressed out with work and-and the situation with the Undercity has been getting worse and Marcus has been driving me crazy but none of that is your on you. You're always doing whatever you can to help me and I'm sorry for acting that way towards you. Come now, let me pamper you tonight, I want to spoil you properly, my dear.''
As poised as CASSANDRA tends to be, she is also not the most patient partner when it comes to quarrels. She always needs to have the final word and can appear uncaring, which frustrates you to no end. At first she scoffs when you leave, figuring you were just being dramatic. But eventually, she starts replaying your argument in her mind and sees just how unfair and rude she acted towards you. Finds you sulking in the lounge room and wastes no time before she sits next to you and pulls you into her embrace. Apologizing doesn't come easy to her and Janna knows it's too late for her to change but... for you, she's willing to try.
''I'm sorry, darling. I was so wrapped up in my own mind that I didn't even try to pay attention to your perspective or feelings. It was never my intention to hurt you or make you feel ignored. I know I can be hard to deal with at times, but I swear I'll do my best to change. For you, I'm willing to do anything. Good, I love you, let me hold you for a bit, yes?''
Oh boy, AMBESSA is so damn stubborn and a tough nut to crack. She will defend her point until the end and eventually forget who she's even arguing with. She'll talk to you as if you're a political opponent, not her partner. Is seething when you leave, thinking of you as weak. But she cannot deny the way her heart sinks when you don't show up for dinner. She lays in bed alone that night, thinking of how stupid she's acted towards you. Eventually she cannot take it anymore and goes out into the balcony to have a drink, hoping it will help clear her mind. That's when she spots you, crying your heart out in the garden. The sight of your tears is the only motivation she needs to run down and, before you can even register it, she's towering over you. Seeing your puffy, crying face spurs her on to pick you up, holding you in her tight embrace as she whispers apologies into your ear.
''I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love. I should have never said those things. I love you so much and I'm sorry for being so bad at showing it. Let me carry you to a warm bath and then to bed, you're freezing. I love you too, sweet thing. I'm so sorry for making you think otherwise.''
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane headcanons#sevika x reader#grayson x reader#cassandra kiramman x reader#ambessa x reader#caitlyn x reader#vi x reader#jinx x reader#mel medarda x reader
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happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭
but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷
thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)
Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)
cw: sick family member
bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis.
Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments.
So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it.
Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps.
“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive.
“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”
Singh nods in return.
“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.”
James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?”
You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.”
A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?”
Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you.
“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.”
“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way.
“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.”
“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.”
“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.”
You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?”
“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.”
“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?”
James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.”
You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.”
“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?”
You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.”
“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.”
You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.”
James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently.
“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.”
“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.”
“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.”
He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.”
You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?”
James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.”
You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.”
“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.”
“You’ve caught me.”
It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.”
“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.”
James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.”
“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.”
“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.”
You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”
#james potter#bodyguard!james potter#bodyguard!james potter x reader#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter au#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter angst#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter imagine#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter scenario#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#marauders x reader#hp marauders
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claim | nico hischier
summary: when a girl’s night gone wrong ends with nico’s girl getting a tattoo, he realizes how much he loves claiming her.
warnings: a bit of possessive nico, grinding, marking, fingering, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, swearing
wc: 2k+
a/n: posting this at 3am, so enjoy, cause i definitely did.
p.s: nico is so daddy that it hurts
This was probably stupid. No, scratch that. You knew it was stupid. As it pans out, a bottle of pink whitney and truth or dare during girl's night, never ends well.
But, as you lay in the chair with that familiar buzzing next to your ear, you contemplated your life choices and how you ended up here in the first place. Cursing your best friend, you hiss as the tattoo gun hits the area behind your ear.
“Holy shit!” You groan in pain, “You absolutely suck, Bry.”
She giggles, tossing her raven hair behind her, “Listen, in my defense, you were the one who said we needed to up the anty during girl’s night.”
If it weren't for the surging pain spreading through your upper body, you’d probably slap her. Bryan was never one to back out of a little competition, which is one of the reasons you guys clicked so well. Only this time, your normal competitiveness was biting you in the ass.
“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. What’s Nico gonna say? He’s probably gonna think I’m nuts and break up with me.”
Bryan scoffed, “Oh please, Nico doesn’t know how to breathe without you by his side. He’s not gonna break up with you.” She glanced over your head as the artist pulled away. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposes the second he sees it.”
After the artist finished cleaning you up, he handed you a mirror so you could see. Gleaming back at you, in all its glory, was a dainty “13” written in black ink. It was small enough to be covered with your hair but big enough to be seen when your hair was up.
Bryan smirked at you through the small mirror, “Nico is one lucky man, babe.”
❥.
Nerves pulsed through your body as the time ticked down. Nico was gonna be home any minute from his team meeting. He sent you a quick text while you were still at the tattoo place, letting you know he’d be home late. You let out a deep breath, staring at your new marking in the bathroom mirror. You played with your hair, indecisive on how you wanted to wear it when Nico arrived.
Eventually, you decided to keep it down, opting to let Nico discover your body's new addition on his own. You settled yourself in the kitchen, perching yourself on the chair closest to the door. You had made dinner earlier since you knew it was very unlikely that Nico had remembered to eat. Just as you began to take out your phone to check where Nico was, you heard keys jingling against the door.
Your heart rate picked up with each passing second. Worry plagued your mind in fear he wouldn’t approve of the tattoo.
The door creaked open, as a tired-looking Nico walked in. His eyes immediately found yours and a loving smile took home over his features.
“Hi, schatzi.” He strode over to you, bending to press a sweet kiss on your head, “Did you have a good girl's night?”
You nodded, standing so you could wrap your arms around his torso. Leaning up with a pout, Nico chuckled. He planted a quick peck on your lips, drawing a whine from you.
“Neeks, stop teasing.”
He sent you a dimpled smile, before kissing your cheek and walking to where you had set out his dinner. Nico was quick to pour himself a glass of wine, turning to bring you one as well. He sat down next to you, taking a sip. You tucked your hair behind your ear, temporarily forgetting about the special ink.
Your eyes snapped to Nico as he choked on his wine, “Jeez, Nico. You okay?”
Once he got over his coughing fit, he shook his head no. His eyes darkened as he moved the glass away from the edge. “What was that behind your ear?”
You smiled sheepishly, looking away from him.
“Y/n, baby. Look at me,” You let your gaze meet his, “Pull your hair up.”
The demand was soft, but enough to spread a pleasurable heat through your body. Grabbing the hairband that lives on your wrist, you quickly put your hair back, the ink now on full display for Nico’s hungry eyes.
“Fuck, schatzi,” Nico mumbled as he inspected the tattoo. Seeing his number permanently on your skin was enough to have his cock straining against the confinements of his sweats. His mind went hazy as he stared at you.
“Do you like it?” Hearing the hesitation in your voice, he tilted your face towards him.
It was then you noticed his appearance. Chest heavy with lustful gasps, eyes almost black as he took in your body. Nico was turned on. You confirmed your theory as your eyes wandered down to his painful-looking erection.
You swallowed thickly.
“Like it? Christ, baby. I fucking love it.” Nico never realized how much he could love seeing something that represented him on you. Of course, his heart soared every time you wore his jersey and he got to see his name sprawled across your back. But this? This was different. It was more than just a representation, it was a claim.
A claim to the rest of the world that you were his. And boy did his dick like the sound of that. Nico bit his lip as thoughts of claiming you further filled his mind. Unable to control himself any longer, he leaned over pulling your jaw to crash your lips together. A moan escaped your throat at the intensity of the kiss.
Nico’s hands moved to your thighs, helping you to sit on the table. He settled in between your legs, pulling your aching core to press against his throbbing cock. His lips trailed down your neck, sucking marks into any bit of skin his mouth could touch.
“Gonna mark ya up, baby,” He licked a stripe from the base of your neck all the way to where your tattoo lay, “Gotta make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”
His hands gripped your thighs harshly, angling his hips upwards to create more friction. You moaned as his bulge dragged deliciously along your clothed clit. Nico continued his assault on your neck, bringing one hand to ghost over where your perked nipples showed through your top.
He brought his head out of your neck, panting, “Need to feel you, schatzi. Need it so bad.” You eagerly agreed, helping to strip off the little clothing that you wore. Once Nico had removed your panties, his fingers quickly traced circles on your mound. You tilted your head back, the much-needed stimulation spreading ecstasy through your veins.
“Fuck, Neeks. Feels so good.” You whimpered into the air.
His desperate gaze drowned in your body. Nico dipped in one finger, before slowly dragging it back out.
“So wet, f’me,” He brought his finger to his lips, sucking off your juices, “Who makes you this wet, baby?”
“You, only you, Nico.” You whined. Nico wasted no time before plunging two fingers in your weeping hole, setting a brutal pace. A scream nearly left your mouth as searing pleasure took over your senses.
“Shit!” Your nails dug into his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself. Nico caught your lips, swallowing the moans and whimpers that escaped. The sweet drag of his fingers had your velvet walls clenching rapidly. You knew you weren’t gonna last much longer, having been worked through already with Nico’s grinding.
You pulled away, dropping your head onto his shoulder, “M’ not gonna last, Neeks”
“I know, schatzi. Cum on my fingers, baby. Make a mess.”
His words were enough to coax your first orgasm, blinding white covering your vision as your body convulsed into Nico’s. His fingers didn’t let up until he worked you completely through your high. You whimpered as overstimulation began to set in.
“Too much,” You cried.
Nico slowly came to a stop, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth for a second time. “Mmm.” He hummed at the taste, “Always so sweet f’me, beautiful.”
Despite having just orgasmed, the sight of his tongue swirling around his fingers, sucking off your arousal had your pussy clenching around nothing. Nico looked down to where his fingers just were, slightly pulling open your cunt with his thumb.
“Such a pretty pussy, all mine.” He seemed to be muttering more to himself than you, relishing in your body and how you were his.
Nico looked back to your eyes, helping you off the table and taking you back to the shared bedroom. He plopped you on the bed, shedding his remaining clothes, before crawling to hover above you.
“Wanna be my good girl?” You nodded, “Open those pretty legs for me.”
You obeyed, welcoming his thick muscled body onto yours. His cock stood proud against his abdomen, the tip red and already leaking precum. You brought a hand to wrap around the top, swiping your thumb along his slit, a line of precum connecting to your digit as you pulled away.
A deep whine left his throat, “Fuck, schatzi. Too sensitive for that right now, wanna cum inside.”
“Please, Neeks. Need you in me, please.” Your mind was reduced to nothing but the thought of his cock drilling you into the mattress.
“Yeah? Want me to fill ya up? Fuck, you’d look so pretty all swollen with my babies.” Nico dragged his cock between your slick folds, “No one would have to ask who you belong to.”
You whimpered, “Quit stalling Neeks, need you to fuck me.” You brought your hands to wrap around his back.
Nico brought his hand down to guide his cock to your entrance, easing in slowly. You both let out a moan as he bottomed out. He sat for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, the stretch always taking you by surprise.
You bucked your hips slightly, signaling that he could move.
“Give me just a second, saw your tattoo again and almost busted.” Even though he wasn’t trying, his crude words sent fire to your core causing your pussy to convulse around his still dick.
After a few moments, Nico slowly brought his cock out till just the tip remained. He plunged back in, doing the same motion a few more times. His deep thrusts racked your entire body with tingles. He started to speed up, but still keeping deep inside your cunt.
“Nico!” You cried as he prodded at your g-spot.
“That’s right, baby,” He grunted out, “Scream my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good”
His thrusts began to quicken as your muscles started to spasm around him. With each glide of his cock, pleasure soared through your body, reaching all the way to your toes. You were completely consumed by Nico.
He buried his head in your neck, tilting slightly to press a gentle kiss against his number. A sweet gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by you. Hands gripping at his back, you dragged your nails down the course muscle, leaving angry red trails that he was surely gonna get hell for in the locker room. Nico began to get sloppy as you both neared the peak. His uneven thrusts, paired with the hand that found its way to your clit had you reeling.
“That’s it, schatzi. I know you got one more in ya, cum f’me baby.”
Your back arched into him, eyes shutting tightly as the coil in your stomach snapped. Your pussy clamped tightly around Nico, sending him over the edge. He continued to pump his cock in and out, painting the deepest parts of your cunt with hot ropes of cum. Your mouth hung in a silent moan, voice gone from the previous activities.
When you regained your senses, you noticed Nico’s weight had collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving. You brought a hand up to lazily stoke his hair, “If this is what I get every time I get a tattoo, then I’m gonna be covered.”
He smiled, placing a kiss on your tattoo, “Only if they’re about me.”
#nico hischier#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier blurb#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier smut#nh13#njd#new jersey devils#leawrites💋
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⎯ PAPER PLANES a Kim Seungmin fiction
🛩️ : Kim Seungmin x gn. reader
TROPE. friends to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff fluff fluff galore
WORD COUNT. 1.5k!!
WARNINGS. cursing
AUG'S NOTES. still crazy about this concept💀 … i wrote this in 30 minutes in complete silence.. the demons have possessed me…
SYNOPSIS. Life in the city has never been as interesting as this. More specifically starting the moment your newest neighborhood, Kim Seungmin, moved in next door.
or alternatively :
It was only a matter of time before those paper airplanes turned into something more.
City nights are your greatest escapade and your worst nightmare. When insomnia plagues you awake, it’s easy to turn off all your fans and just listen.
New York isn’t called the city that never sleeps for no reason.
Whether it’s the faint honking of a car or the nearest nightclubs obnoxiously loud stereo, 24 hours a day almost every day of the year this city’s eyes remain open, and in essence, it makes you feel a tad bit better about those sleepless nights.
There’s the buzz of your surroundings, but as for your apartment complex, things are pretty quiet.
Well, you did intentionally choose a very much elderly-occupied residency after all.
Until somebody else showed up, somebody who didn’t explain to you on a morning basis of how they’re deciding on their casket.
And he sings.
Headed back from work up the elevator was when you ran into him for the first time. A smidge taller than yourself, puffy hair hanging over his forehead.
Neither of you talked apart from the courtesy “Which floor are you going to?” followed by an equally courteous “Five”, and you realizing you were both headed to the same place.
Elevators are a dangerous place. Anything could go wrong, technical issues, you end up trapped, weird strangers, and a myriad of unfortunate events waiting to happen. What’s worse? The conversations.
Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned from the decades worth of elevators you’ve been on is that they’re either a place to never stop talking or never talk.
As for this discovered neighbor of yours, you spend a solid thirty seconds deciding the right course of action.
“So where’d you move from?” You pique, watching the numbers atop the door slowly increase.
“South Korea,” He responds, and out of the corner of your eye you notice him glancing at you, hands stuffed in his puffer coat’s pockets.
Mouth opening to speak, you immediately close it, evidently surprised. To think how hellish the flight must’ve been humbled you instantly, not to mention how he carried no accent when conversing.
But before you could ask any more questions the doors open and he wordlessly slips past you, leaving you to silently follow.
“Wait!” Calling out prior to him walking through the door, he stops, turning to you with a confused expression adorning delicate features.
“What’s your name?” You voice another inquiry, hand also fastened onto the doorknob.
He blinks, the action scarily resembling a puppy dog.
“Seungmin. Kim Seungmin.”
Seungmin.
Cute.
“Y/n, nice to meet you.” Nodding politely his way, he returns the gesture, a sudden unwelcoming awkwardness creeping further into your skin the longer you both stand there, staring at each other.
And of course your genius of a mind decides to open its big fat mouth.
“..I guess we’re neighbors, huh.”
No shit sherlock, You internally reprimand, wishing oh so badly to leap out of the nearest window.
Sucking his teeth, Seungmin hums agreeably, and you feel like the stupidest person in the world.
“Yeah well, bye!” Panickedly twisted the knob and racing inside to slam the door behind you, you sink to the ground, clutching your head pathetically.
“Y/n…” You whine, addressing yourself like a lunatic. There’s a heavy sigh, a leaning your head back, thumping against the wooden frame.
“…What the fuck is wrong with you.”
Nonetheless, the night you first heard his voice pitch through gleaming neon signs was one to remember.
Typing manically on your keyboard while a half-empty glass of watered down coffee occupied the space beside you, you squint, scrutinizing that same sentence at least a dozen times before ripping the headphones off your ears and raising up frustratedly.
This essay is definitely earning a rightful spot on your thirteen reasons why list, a close second to your first impression on Seungmin last week.
Stretching your arms above your head, you hear it. An entrancing, melodic tone sifting beneath your cracked window, decorating your bedroom in a decadent assortment of color.
Carefully tiptoeing to pry open the window fully, you crane, cheek pressed against cold glass.
It’s Seungmin. Face tipped to the side, lips halfway parted. You don’t know if he’s focused on something or what, but you know he’s the only thing that matters in this moment.
His vibrato, the way he perfectly slices notes into harmonious rhythm pulls you in like a hummingbird to nectar.
You find yourself aimlessly standing there, rocking back and forth of your heels, savoring the effortlessly sweet relief he fills your exhausted soul with.
Day after day he’d sing, voice never ceasing to calm your senses, as if supernatural, into a lulling drone. No thoughts, just him.
Occasionally it’d be a new tune, one familiar, one not. Over and over and over again you’d routinely wait for him, like a child rushing to see their favorite cartoon.
And as a result, Seungmin became one of your biggest sources of comfort without either of you knowing it.
Today is the day.
Reaching over as far as you can muster with the makeshift paper airplane held tightly, you attempt at reading the wind, trying to decipher the best time to launch this secret weapon of yours.
Well, not really secret (somewhat), and also not a weapon, but you get the picture.
This morning you’d taken tedious measures to ensure your innovative paper airplane note would successfully fly, especially since the note inside was just as innovative.
𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐. Was what it read, and you thought the compliment was pretty appropriate considering how often you’d admire his mellowed tunes in the eve.
Except, the first one was a fail, then the second one, and a third, and by the forth airplane you had paper-cuts all over your hands and a temper teetering on the brink of defeat.
Hey, at least three people today (almost four) would get a “I like your singing” note today.
Whoosh! Your note flies, and just when you begin to lose hope does it switch trajectories, successfully hitting his balcony’s screen door.
To say you shouted was an understatement. Hell, the entirety of New York likely heard your chanting, yelling, and the entourage of oddly proud noises in between.
Noises of which were quickly muted upon said screen door opening, to where you frantically drop down, peering between the chair’s legs to observe his reaction.
Seungmin glances around repeatedly, curiously, prior to peeling back paper folds.
You inhale sharply.
His eyes graze over the sentence, investigating his surroundings again.
No reaction.
You initially deflate, grumbling to yourself defeatedly.
Until a tiny sliver of hope peeks through dark curtains.
Seungmin smiles.
He covers his mouth (an action you don’t understand but start to considering how dazzlingly bright it is), and laughs. A soft laugh that has his shoulders shaking, corner of his eyes wrinkling into charming crescent moons.
You swear there’s a ring of sparkling light outlining him, like something out of a K-Drama.
His smile could (and should) win an award, you’re convinced.
And just like that he disappears back into his apartment, and you chant a nonstop “Oh my god!” a good thirty-six times, unable to contain the feather-light feeling spreading from your fingertips to the very tip of your toes.
Cute. Kim Seungmin was so, so cute.
From the sheepish grins he gives you each time he’s seen you since, you have a hunch he knows it was you who sent the note, but you choose to act oblivious.
Oblivious, before you received a note of your own.
Of course, Kim Seungmin’s paper airplane is perfect, aerodynamic and probably arrived on the first throw unlike your consecutive sacrifices.
Slowly shuffling open the response, you peek through hesitant fingers, slapping a hand over your gaping mouth upon witnessing his obviously perfect handwriting.
𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 :) , It reads. Something so mundane and proper there’s no reason you should be losing your mind, but you are, and the rattling of your heartbeat serves the best explanation.
You make sure to hang the note up afterward, right above your laptop.
So over the next few days, the both of you become more daring, more adventurous. Two paper airplanes turn into four, four to eight, eight to eleven. By now there’s not enough room to hang all of them up.
Meaningless conversations. Asking about dinner plans, what you’re currently doing, what your favorite hobbies are, favorite songs. But yet, they mean so much to you.
Your own, childish way of communicating even though the mature, adult reply would be to knock on his door.
Although, he seems to love it as much as you do.
𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? Is scribbled on the airplane he’d sent a few minutes ago.
𝙽𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚢? You write quickly onto one, hands nimbly constructing the shape after sending so many. Routine.
Returning to stirring the pot of boiling water in front of you, a familiar tap alerts you, padding over to grasp his letter.
Strangely, a part of you grows more and more excited, plopping down into your chair to gradually take apart his craftsmanship.
Your legs move before you can even register your own feelings, scrambling outside.
Seungmin’s there, breathtaking smile as brilliant as ever despite such dim lighting.
There’s no need to admit you’ve been sending them now. Especially not from the way he gazed at you, the words inscribed on that paper airplane.
𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?
He bites back an even bigger grin, cheeks dusting rosy pink from the cold air.
Yes.
Absolutely yes.
sunboki, may 2022 ©
#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz x reader#straykids x you#straykids x reader#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#straykids fluff#stray kids angst#skz angst#straykids angst#kim seungmin x y/n#kim seungmin x you#kim seungmin x reader#seungmin x y/n#seungmin x you#seungmin x reader#kim seungmin fluff#seungmin fluff#kim seungmin angst#skz kim seungmin#skz seungmin#seungmin angst
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PREVIOUS PART
Hopelessly Devoted (PART THREE)
Summary: After the previous day's events relentlessly play out in your head you come to the realisation it's time to move on from any hopes you had of rekindling your relationship with Tommy. But just as you decided to turn the page, Tommy's thoughts begin to be plagued by the past. His attempts at confessing how he really feels short lived when he discovers he has been betrayed on the day his plan to take out Billy Kimber falls apart.
Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining
Authors note: The song Y/N sings is "Where have all the flowers gone" covered by Olivia Newton-John.
" Shit..." you said as you looked in your bathroom mirror dabbing the cut on your throat with a cotton ball doused in alcohol as you glanced down at your trembling hand, quickly grabbing it with the other to stop the shaking as your frustration with the constant nerves engulfing your every waking breath refused to relent. Walking over to your bed you sat down as tears began to form in the corner of your eyes. How was there even any left? You thought to yourself as you rested your head in your hand, exhausted from another night of almost no sleep. Biting the corner of your mouth you gave up letting the tears fall down your arm as the previous day's events played out in your head, tormenting you over and over again at the bitter pill you had finally forced yourself to swallow. This was it. I'ts over, there was no point in trying to kid yourself into thinking otherwise. Tommy may not have said the words to you himself but Kimber's men had made it clear to you of his feelings when they had a knife pushed up against your neck threatening your life. He was protecting the new barmaid he had known for five minutes by giving your name so freely, putting you in harm's way, the woman he had known his whole life the same woman he once wanted to marry at all cost. You thought to yourself as you glanced at his pocket watch sitting on your bedside table, glaring at it as if he had returned his love back to you, discarding anything he once felt for you like he had with your own feelings for him. Standing up you wiped your tears away as you straightened your body out trying to regain some sort of control over your emotions. Would he even care if you told him what happened when you left the Garrison? What did it even matter, you quickly determined. You had no intentions of telling him, you would not let him think you needed his protection, have him pity you, have him believe you couldn't fend for yourself. You was on your own now that much was clear, his feelings towards you finally understood when he replaced the one thing you never thought he would with such disregard and heartlessness. If Tommy was moving on it was time you did the same. No more tears no more day dreaming of what could have been. From this day forward you promised yourself not to let the heartbreak he had caused you drag you down any further. New me, new start. You mentally hummed to yourself like a mantra as you looked in the mirror hanging on the wall, holding up the burgundy dress you had picked out against your body. "Fuck him" you said as you nodded at your reflection, reassuring yourself on the hardest decision you had ever made. Grace can have him, good luck to her.
" Where is she?" Tommy huffed as he loomed over the large table in the room adjacent to the betting shop as his family looked on shrugging their shoulders. " I dont have fucking time to wait around for her shit" Tommy said as he pulled out his new pocket watch, the weight of it not feeling the same, the shape of it not sitting in his hand how he liked how he had become accustomed to.
" Yes your relentless brooding over her is not obvious at all" Polly uttered quietly under her breath as she licked her finger, turning the page of the newspaper in front of her as Arthur and John sniggered at eachother.
" What's that, hm?" Tommy said as he leaned forward his eyes darting between the three of them as Arthur put his hands up in defence unable to hold back the laugh he had been trying to keep in. You were getting under his skin, and Arthur found it the most comical thing he witnessed all week.
" Sorry brother" Arthur said as he sniffed back his laughs clearing his throat. "But she always has had you by your balls. Not that you'll ever admit it" Arthur snickered as the whole room let out a burst of small laughs whilst Tommy's face twisted in anger. There was nothing more loving than teasing a family member in the Shelby house.
" Right you all done? " he said pointing at everyone as he pulled his pocket watch out to check the time again " Five minutes" he mumbled as he clenched his jaw. " I'll fire every single one of you" Tommy muttered as he sat down in his chair with a huff.
" Alright now that you've had your little temper tantrum can we get to business. And she's ten minutes late not five" Polly said taking a sip of tea, a smile on her lips as she watched the realisation on Tommy's face. His watch for the first time in ten years was on time. Fuck. He had become so used to it being five minutes late he would plan all his meetings around the little habit you had started ten years ago, never bothering to or wanting to turn it to the right time. Except this time you was ten minutes late. Just as Tommy was about to get into another rant about your tardiness the sound of your heels echoing loudly though the betting shop had everyone but Tommy turn their head.
"Fabulous" Polly mouthed to you when you walked into the room, motioning up and down with her hand at your outfit as Tommy's head nearly flew of his neck when he turned to face John and the wolf whistle he had just sent your way.
"There she is" Arthur said, sending you a wink of approval as you strutted through the room with a new air of confidence passing by Tommy as he finally turned his head to you. Looking you up and down Tommy cleared his throat as he shifted in his seat hitching his trousers further up, his eyes widening as he looked you over. Was this for his benefit or everyone else's he wondered as he looked at the way your dress hugged every curve of your body, every curve he could never keep his hands off.
" You're late" he said as his eyes pierced into you, piercing through that fucking dress you had decided to wear to make him jealous, to torment him. He thought to himself as he tried to stay composed, tried to stop himself from saying something he would regret.
" Oh am I?" you replied nonchalantly as you pulled a chair out from the side, scrapping it along the floor to the opposite end of the end of table. " Only five minutes though" you said sitting down, having not once looked at him since you entered the room.
" Ten" Tommy replied as he leaned his elbow on the arm of his chair, his fingers resting in front of his lips as he watched you brush your hair behind your shoulder. Something was different. And since when did you start wearing dresses like that? Tommy thought to himself when he suddenly determined you had a new man. His only evidence being that dress he couldn't keep his eyes off and the small remark you made the other day about your relationship being over, a remark that had been playing on his mind ever since. His eyes still boring into you, Tommy quickly decided he'd find the bastard you was dating and rip his throat out for daring to go near you. Had everyone forgotten the warning he had given?
" Replaced that too I see" you said finally looking up as your eyes locked onto each others, a smirk on you lips as you enjoyed your new founded confidence. Last night's events had finally given you the push you needed, the wake up call you had been longing for.
"Shall we start" Polly said as everyone else who had been watching your interactions finally shifted their eyes away from the palpable tension between you. Nodding his head Tommy lit a cigarette shaking the flame from the match as he continued to watch you in the corner of his eye.
All throughout the meeting you could feel the heat of his glare burning into your cheeks with every minute that passed whilst you constantly fidgeted in your chair, desperately wanting to free yourself from his incessant stare. Your confidence was back but not enough to face his piercing blue eyes that he enjoyed watching you squirm under and the foul mood he had forced you and everyone else to endure. As for Tommy he had no interest in what his family had to stay. Instead he was more concerned as to what had you looking so pleased with yourself so poised, a far cry from how you had been in recent years. His concerns only heightened when John went over dates for an event Tommy had planned for everyone in celebration. A celebration for what, nobody new yet.
"Talked with Aunt Pol, only date free is February the fifteenth, in a month's time for your...whatever it is" John said chewing on the end of his pencil as he squinted at his handwriting on the piece of paper in front of him. " No the sixteenth" he said looking up as Polly rolled her eyes.
" The nineteenth" she said as she shook her head at her nephew whilst John shrugged his shoulders replacing the pencil in his mouth with a toothpick.
" Right yeh, fine" Tommy said as he mentally went through the dates in his head, hoping his plans in a week's time would go the way he wanted to actually have something to celebrate about. "Y/N you gonna write that down?" he said looking to you as he tapped his fingers on the table trying to gain your attention.
" I can't come" you said as you finished writing in your notebook finally looking up to see the irritation growing in Tommy's face.
" It's a company gathering. You don't have a choice. Moving on..." Tommy said as he flicked his ash into the glass dish beside him as he lent back into his chair.
" I'm not obligated. It wasn't in my contract" you said as you crossed your arms.
" You don't have a contract" Tommy scoffed as he rubbed his brow in frustration.
" Well I want one, that way I know exactly where I stand"
"Think you're making it pretty clear were you stand sweetheart" Tommy said as you glared at him. " So what is it that has you so busy you can't come, care to share it with us?"
" I have plans with someone" you lied. In truth, you didn't have any reason to not got to Tommy's event. You just didn't want to, knowing you wouldn't be able to endure another evening watching him with her again.
"You have plans with someone in a month's time? Who?" Tommy asked stubbing out his cigarette getting annoyed with your short response" With who Y/N?"
" What's it got to do with you?"
" Another man, is that it hm? You fuckin..."
" Right think we're done ay" Arthur said standing up as he clapped his hands together cutting Tommy off in attempt to break the tension before a slagging match ensued between you both. Staring eachother down you was the first to get up, briskly walking away with a scowl on your face as Tommy brushed his hand down his face.
" See that fucking attitude I have to deal with?" Tommy said as he stood up turning to Arthur. It wasn't the first spat you had ever had in front of everyone but it had been the first time in a long time that you finally bit back at his words, catching him of guard.
" Wonder where she learnt that?" Arthur said as he placed his hand on Tommy's shoulder before walking off with a smirk on his face.
" I won't stand for this kind of attitude in a work place! Hey, you all listening to me?" Tommy shouted as he turned to everyone in the betting office and their weak attempts to hide the amusement on their faces.
" We hear you baby brother!" Arthur called out as he grabbed his hat walking out the door. Clearly everyone was mad at him, mad at the way he had treated you the previous evening in the Garrison . But Tommy was just as mad at himself for letting the events play out. He felt blindsided by Grace's gift. He needed you to know that, he needed you to know the last thing he wanted was to be parted from it.
It had been a few hours since the meeting when the tension between you and Tommy had almost turned into a full blown argument one that potentially had the chance of you launching anything you could find at him. Thankfully Arthur had intervened, stopping you from embarrassing yourselves in front of the whole betting shop. For the remainder of the day you had stayed out of each others way letting your anger towards one another simmer down. But an hour before closing time Tommy had called you into his office. His plan was to apologise for the previous evening, albeit in a cold uniquely Tommy way. But nonetheless he felt guilty for what had happened last night. Little did he know, he was only going to make things worse. As you entered his office Tommy looked up from the various papers on his desk to the scowl still spread across your face. You was clearly still mad at him, did he really think he could just apologise and his cruel actions would be forgotten?
" Hand me my diary" he asked as he rubbed his forefinger above his top lip watching you as you crossed your arms in frustration. Did he seriously ask you in here to fetch his diary for him ? You thought to yourself as you stormed over to the shelves behind him as he cleared his throat reaching for the pack of cigarettes on his desk. Slamming it on the table in front of him you started to walk off when he grabbed your arm stopping you.
" I need you to write down the dates John gave at the meeting" he said as he looked up at you and the storm of anger building in your face.
" You couldn't have done that yourself?"
" Forgot them" he said as he picked up a pencil handing it to you.
" You never forget anything Thomas Shelby" you snapped back grabbing the pencil from his hand as you started turning the pages, a little huff leaving your throat that Tommy couldn't help but smile at. " What's this?" you asked pointing at a black star one week from today.
" The day I finish my dealings with Kimber. The dates" he said nodding at the book, lighting a cigarette as your hand wavered over the paper at the confirmation from Tommy himself that what Kimber's men had said yesterday when they had you pushed up against the brick wall behind your home was Indeed true. Turning the page a sudden surge of discomfort started to build within you, a discomfort you hadn't felt since he left for France. He was putting his life at risk once again, and the only reaction you had was worry, worry that he wouldn't come back from it. " There" you said quietly, pushing the book towards him as you turned to leave.
" Y/N' wait" Tommy said as he stood up walking over to you." The other day at the Garrison...the pocket watch i didn't want to.."
" Just stop Tommy" you said as put your hand up cutting him off " We've both moved on, why hold onto the past right? " you added as Tommy let out a deep sigh whilst you turned your head away from him avoiding as much eye contact as you possibly could.
" That's the thing, I never mov... What's that?" He said as he moved your hair away from your neck, you body flinching as his thumb rubbed along the small knife mark on your skin. " Y/N who did that to you?" Tommy said, his voice getting lower as a surge of anger started to course through him.
" It's nothing Tommy"
" Nothing? You're lying" he replied with a scoff as he moved your hair away again, ducking his head down to to get a better look when you swatted his hand away. " Looks like someone had a knife to your throat" he said as he let his hand drop to his side, fury rising within him at the mere thought of someone hurting you.
" Don't be ridiculous. I was cutting my hair and nipped my skin. Why do you care anyway?"
"You never was very good at lying Y/N" Tommy said huffing as he watched you bite the corner of you bottom lip whilst you fidgeted in place. " And you really think I stopped caring about you?"
" Yes" you said as the words caught in your throat, tears welling in your eyes as you spun around to the door not wanting him to see you like this. His pity was the last thing you needed to add to you ever growing list of reasons to feel insecure.
" Y/N wait, I need to know what happened " he said as he tried to turn you around but stopped as you shrugged him off you, opening the door then slamming it shut behind you.
" Fuck sake" Tommy muttered under his breath as he watched you return to your desk through the window of his office. There was no way he would let this slide. You was clearly lying to him and he was determined to find out why.
As closing time approached you picked up your belongings when your movements had Tommy who was deep in thought abruptly stand up grabbing his coat and hat. If he was coming out here to bombard you with questions as to what happened he could forget it. You thought to yourself as you hurried to the door hearing him call your name. "Fucking door" you mumbled, pulling at the handle trying to open it as you looked over your shoulder to see Tommy heading your way, luck finally falling upon you when John stopped him putting the book of takings in front of him. Open, open, open! You thought as you rattled the handle pulling it back and forth when the door suddenly opened with ease and Grace walked in.
" Y/N" she said as she looked you over, taking in your reddened face from your efforts, a small chuckle leaving her lips. " Came to surprise Tommy after work" she said as she continued to stand in your way.
" How lovely" you said sarcastically as you tried to push past her when she put her hand on your arm.
" I know about that old pocket watch you gave Tommy all those years ago" she said looking at you. " Best you let go off the past, after all Tommy said it was only a silly little teen fling" she said with a small smile.
" Fling?" You repeated taken aback by what she had just said, what Tommy had said to her.
" Childhood sweethearts never last Y/N, don't be naive" She said in a mocking tone, belittling you without an ounce of shame at her hurtful choice of words. What were you saying, what had she said? Tommy panicked as John continued to bother him with the takings of the day. As your head turned to face him, Tommy swallowed harshly at the sight of a tear falling down your cheek.
" Let her go Tommy" Grace said placing both her hands on his chest as he walked over to where you had been standing, watching you storm out onto the streets of Watery Lane as the door closed behind you.
A fling, a fucking fling. He once asked you to marry him, promised to spend the rest of his life with you, her words couldn't have cut deeper if they tried. Let them have eachother. You thought to yourself as you clutched your coat around you heading for home, back to the four walls where you knew you would ultimately fall apart once again, your new founded confidence short-lived your own promises discarded, dwindling down into a pile of self-doubt and surrender after Graces cruel remarks. Could things get any worse?
One week later..
Today was black star day, the day Tommy planned to take out Billy Kimber and all of his dealings. Sitting in the corner of the Garrison nursing the drink you had ordered over an hour ago you glanced over to see Tommy and Grace standing behind the bar pouring drinks for his men, undoubtedly to numb any nerves that threatened to appear risking the plan Tommy had been preparing meticulously for weeks. Lifting his head from the glass of stout he was pouring Tommy caught your eye. It was the first time in almost a week you had looked each others way, anything you had to say to one another was passed on to anyone in the betting shop that was willing and had the patience to deal with both of your stubbornness. But today was different and Tommy couldn't help but notice the way you was looking at him, the same way you looked at him as you both waited on the platform for the train to arrive and take him and all of the other men saying goodbye to their loved ones off to war. The only difference between them and you was you had barely uttered a word to eachother, his final goodbye before he boarded a quick peck to your cheek.
And as if you had been transported back five years, tears started to form in your eyes as you abruptly stood up leaving the Garrison like you did when Tommy stepped on the train not once looking back, leaving you alone and heartbroken. What you didn't know was, Tommy did look back. He pushed his way past all the other men in the carriage in search of a free window shouting your name as he desperately tried to get a glimpse of you one last time before he left for war.
"Y/N!" Tommy shouted as he grabbed his coat and hat racing out of the Garrison. He wouldn't let what happened on that platform five years ago play out again.
" Tommy wait! What are you doing?" Grace called out after him as she watched the Garrison doors close behind him. " Why does he always go after her? He doesn't even love her anymore" she seethed as she looked to Arthur who raised his brow downing the rest of his drink.
" Doesn't love her? He's a stubborn bastard but he never stopped Grace" Arthur said as he walked away leaving her fuming at Tommy's unrelenting devotion to you.
"Where have all the young men gone,
long time ago?
Where have all the young men gone?
Gone to soldiers, every one..."
You sang, tears streaming your cheeks as you sat by your little brother Georgie's gravestone, his life taken like so many others during an air raid. Wiping your tears you continued to sing as if time had stood still and you was back in 1916 sitting on the grass in the only place you felt peace and calm, waiting for the men you loved so much to return from war.
" Do you still sing that song for me?" Tommy said as he slowly approached you, afraid you'd stop.
" Leave me alone Tommy" you sniffed as you stood up brushing the remaining tears away from your cheeks, looking out at Small Heath in the distance.
" We live in the same town, work in the same place. I can't...I don't want to" He said as he stepped closer wanting to reach out to you, wanting to hold you in his arms like he should have done all those years ago.
" Yes, Tommy Shelby doesn't care what anybody else wants, what anybody else asks does he? you replied misunderstanding the meaning behind his words. " Why did you follow me?" you sighed picking up the dead flowers by Georgie's grave as you turned around making you way down the hill not wanting to even wait for his response when Tommy put his arm out, stopping you from walking any further.
" You were crying" he replied feeling like a teen boy again stuck on what he really wanted to say. " Y/N I.." Tommy sighed as he brought his thumb up, brushing it down your cheek. " I knew you would come up here" he said, his hand dropping from your face as he abandoned the small speech he had prepared as he made his way to the cemetery to find you.
" Crying, I've been crying for five years, only now you notice?!" you scoffed pushing past him.
" Oh I noticed, its not like you try and hide it, do you? " Always pushing it in my face, have you forgotten who's fault this all is, eh?" Tommy said as his stance stiffened, his coldness towards you making a swift return when you didn't respond to his veiled attempts to be tender with you.
" Here I almost forgot. Throw it in the cut like you did everything else when you came back from France, like you did my heart. After all it was just a fling " you said storming back to him as you pulled his pocket watch out of your coat, shoving it into his hands.
" A fling? Y/N!" Tommy called out furrowing his brow as he watched you run down the hill. "You broke my heart first, you fucking broke mine first!" Tommy shouted back taking his cap off as he brushed his hands through his hair. " Fuck!" He yelled throwing his hat onto the grass as Jeremiah and Arthur came running up the hill.
" Tommy!" Arthur shouted as his brother turned around to face them, brushing his eyes with the back of his hand.
" What? What is it?" Tommy sniffed as his eyes darted between them both. "Well?"
"Tell him what you just told me" Arthur said breathlessly as he turned to Jeremiah stood beside him.
" Just heard there's to van's driving up the Stratford Road. An old Corporal of mine said he recognised some of the men..he said it's the Kimber boys"
"Ada wake up! You and the baby get into the ball ring where there's lots of people" Tommy said as he stormed through their house on Watery Lane as Arthur, Jeremiah and his son Isaiah followed behind him.
" What's going on?" Polly said as she took in Tommy's panicked state.
"We've been fucking betrayed" he replied rubbing his forehead. " Someone let slip. Kimber's men are on their way here" Tommy said as he paced the room back and forth.
" Yeh but you can handle them Tommy" Polly said having confidence that her nephew had another plan if something like this was to to happen.
"It's just us. All the Lee's are on their way to Worcester, we're outnumbered" Tommy said as the realisation his plan had fallen apart started to sink in. "Fuck!" he shouted as he slammed his hands down onto the top of a cabinet, the pictures and ornaments rattling from the force of his outburst.
"Who else knew today was the day you was moving on Kimber? You said you kept it a secret who else did you tell? " Polly questioned as Tommy leaned his weight on the mahogany wood, clenching his jaw at what Isaiah had told him before they had all entered the house.
" Isaiah" Tommy said as he turned his head to the young Blinder. " Tell them what you just told me"
" Tom, I don't think she was..." he said as he stepped forward when his boss cut him off.
" Tell them!" Tommy shouted turning around, his patience wearing so thin he was close to loosing any self-control he had left.
" The other day I saw Y/N with Kimber's men in the alley way behind her place. I thought she'd come to you and tell you herself. Tom they look like they roughed her up " he said as Tommy scoffed at his remark.
" Nah I don't believe it. Y/N would never..." Arthur said when Tommy interrupted.
" Betray me? She fucking hates me, you've all seen it " he replied raising his brow as he stepped closer to his older brother. " You've always stuck up for her, but she did this, she threw us under the bus. All of us, even you Arthur" he said pointing his finger in his older brothers face.
" I'd back away if I was you Tommy, because this time I won't let you win baby brother" Arthur said pushing him in the chest away from him. " We've known her since we were bloody kids. Y/N would never betray this family, she's one of us" Arthur concluded as he walked away grabbing the bottle of whisky on the table, pouring himself a full glass before he too lost control of his temper.
" Tommy that girls been devoted to you the moment she met you, you're blinded by your bitterness towards her. Did you not tell anyone else? Polly asked as Tommy shook his head forgetting or ignoring the fact he had, the very same person who had written it in his diary. No, Tommy's sights were set on you, only you could have done this only you could have betrayed him.
NEXT PART
Tag list: @cosniffee @jonsncws @powellssaturn @jessimay89 @bruher @riseandreigns4u @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @chimchimjiminie16 @gaslysainz @calicoootalks (unable to tag) @weaponizedvirtue @vlryexsworld (unable to tag) @shittyprofilebutfuckit @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @peakyswritings @kammsinn @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @cherryslyce @esquivelbianca @taliawz (unable to tag) @answer-the-sirens @dielgonacoffee @cicilysgrace @nadloves @fanatics30 @httyd-marauders @beeposstuff @yeppaweshallsee (unable to tag) @ja-4-leyvam (unable to tag) @xmariakx @slighltyaboveaverageiq (unable to tag) @fairypitou @youngbananamilkshake
#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders imagine
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He Becomes a Dad! || Part 1/2
PART 2
Pairing: Time, Four, Legend, Hyrule x Reader
Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing.
I'm a sucker for family tropes and there simply aren't enough out there for the Chain to quench my thirst, so here it is, I'm adding my contribution👍
Btw, there will be only two parts for this prompt since Wind will be excluded for obvious reasons. Baby making isn't a platonic activity🤷♀️
Zelda Masterlist 🩵Fandom Masterlist
You only brought the topic of children up to your husband once. It was at some point during the early half of your marriage and after a particularly lengthy day of enduring Malon’s well-meant pestering. Time, beside being caught slightly off guard, delivered a straightforward answer:
“It wouldn’t feel right bringing kids into this world, especially when I would hardly be home to help you rear them.”
Now, you can’t lie and say you weren’t at all disappointed by this answer, although you wouldn’t say you had the rug completely pulled from beneath you. You understood the true implications behind Time’s statement right away. It’s the same reason he took so long to let himself marry you. It’s not you nor a disgust towards children, but rather an unspoken fear of building a life where he’s too happy - one that could be ripped away from him at a moment’s notice as has seemed to be the case for his younger years.
Although his worries are needless, you never pushed against his boundaries because you could at least see the sense in his argument. Sure, the idea of having children did always appeal to you deep down, however between Time’s constant traveling and your hard work helping at Lon Lon Ranch, it would be difficult to squeeze a family into the schedule. There was no sense in forcing him into a commitment he wasn’t ready for nor one you weren’t in a position to properly foster.
Twelve years of blissful marriage passed before your plans changed. The blame lies with those other heroes, too. One would think traveling alongside a group of unruly young boys would’ve made someone more certain of their decision to never again subject themselves to such a headache, yet it apparently had the opposite effect on your dear husband.
Discovering first hand how much pride he could feel towards a descendant was life-altering, to put it light. Twilight was living proof that somewhere along the line, Time does something right. Whatever kids he might have will grow up to have children of their own and so on…Not to mention Twilight isn’t a terrible outcome by any means. To raise someone with the possibility of them turning out like him and to do so with you of all people? Well, needless to say, it was settled rather quickly after that: Time wanted kids.
Call it baby-fever if you will, but he was suddenly rather eager about the concept he had once avoided like the plague. He brought it up through not-so-subtly hints at first, then when you outright asked him if he was being serious, he went on a slightly nervous spew about your home being too quiet and how he could officially retire from traveling to be home more and it’s really a shame that you have an extra bedroom just sitting around - You just had to kiss him to shut him up which eventually led to…other things. Let’s just say you both got started right away.
It took you twelve years to realize you did indeed want kids yet less than a year to actually be holding them for the first time. It turns out even the universe was impatiently waiting for you both to come to your senses, so once you finally had, it decided to award you with not one, but two beautiful girls whom you affectionately named Saria after Time’s old friend and Mallory, a mix between melody and Malon, their ever-so-excited godmother.
It’s safe to say that the twins are pretty spoiled. Malon has been over almost everyday, bringing you plenty of baked goods as a bribe to let her spend more time with her favorite goddaughters and you have practically every baby related item that you could need, courtesy of the Queen of Hyrule herself, but of course, it’s their parents who love them the most.
Never in his wildest dreams did Time think it would be possible to feel so at peace with the life he’s built. For so many years, he feared true happiness was impossible - that every turn would result in the same cruel fate he had been subjected to during most of his existence - and yet for the last couple of nights, he’s held it in his arms. He’s watched the moon rise outside his window while playing soft lullabies on his ocarina, you cuddled by his side with your daughters shared between you both. You wear a small smile even in sleep and he swears the girls match it, too; he definitely does himself…This is a priceless treasure he’ll give his life to protect.
Four and you had already been married for a few years by the time you found out you’re pregnant. It’s not to say you were actively planning for it, although you also weren’t actively trying not to either.
It had been agreed upon early in your relationship that kids would be nice should they come your way, therefore you were both equally excited that your wishes were finally being granted, so much so that the nursery was finished within the first month (courtesy of your handy husband). It’s painted in beautiful pastels that are easy on the eyes and decorated with many toys Four had hand-carved himself; a useful craft he’s now very appreciative towards Sky for teaching him.
Seeing as this was already a somewhat anticipated next step in your lives, Four’s pretty relaxed throughout the process despite its many challenges. For starters, pregnancy itself unfortunately isn't as much of a 'blessing' for you as some have made it sound. You’re rather sick from beginning to end. If it isn't your inability to keep food down (especially in the early stages) or your fluctuating blood pressure, then it’s the aching you constantly feel thanks to both your very heavy bump and extremely active baby who just loves to make sure you never forgot about their existence by kicking you as hard as possible day and night.
Worry not. Four has made your struggles more bearable by being a darling husband through and through. He’s by your side during each doctor’s visit, does his own personal research on all things baby-related, and helps with every chore he can to give you at least some rest even if just for a quick nap, however most spectacularly, he does all of this without ever being too overbearing.
Although certainly concerned for your health, Four can recognize your strength any day of the week, especially when you've been rolling with the punches like a warrior queen during such a draining pregnancy. Anxious, sure, but not afraid. Why would he be? He’s confident that you’re both prepared to face anything together! …That is, until you actually went into labor…
Yeah, remember that previously mentioned, relaxed and darling husband? Forget about him. Your water broke and so did Four's calm demeanor, but can he really be blamed? You went into labor early - and not just by a couple of days either. Oh no, we're talking a couple of weeks early.
Regardless of his newfound fear, Four does his utmost best to still present himself as calm and collected in front of you, not wanting to freak you out any more than you’re already freaking out yourself. He first helped you lay down with plenty of pillows and cushions before running to get help. After that, he doesn’t leave your side, encouraging you throughout the process with a smile on his face, however don’t be fooled: the second you turn your head to the midwife’s voice or close your eyes to scream, your poor husband’s face reflects his inner thoughts as the situation fully begins to sink in. 'Scared shitless' - that's a good word to describe it; eyes wide in terror with a mouth that’s hung agape and slightly twisted in pain as your nails clawed into his hand.
As said, he never leaves your side - not even for a millisecond. You don’t have to worry about him being the type of guy to get grossed out by natural fluids or complain about your expressions of pain; none of that is remotely a concern of his. He’s just grateful to see you okay and even more so to hear his baby crying as they should.
A girl; small like her daddy, but healthy all things considered. Four couldn't wait to hold her, knowing damn well he was going to cry the second her soft skin touched his, but he isn’t ashamed of it in the slightest. Who wouldn’t cry holding something so precious?
Then you scream again. He thinks something must be wrong until the midwife announces that it isn’t over - that there are more squeezed in there waiting.
At the end of the day, you're just relieved to finally breathe easy without going through agonizing pain while Four, on the other hand, is left in shock staring at not one, not two, but three little babies, all healthy girls who wiggle and whimper in their parents' arms, but oh well. The nursery may have to be expanded, although there's plenty of love to go around. At least he can thank Hylia that it wasn’t quads (he's had enough of those).
Legend and you have been in a relationship for several years, although you had mutually agreed earlier on that neither of you were big fans of the whole 'marriage' thing. What difference would a ceremony and piece of paper make, anyway? You already act as any officially married couple would. You live together, go on dates, occasionally argue, and even share a bed which is exactly what resulted in a recent, unplanned detour in your lives: a baby.
When you first told Legend the news, he panicked, asking himself all those stupid questions like ‘what now’ and ‘how could this have happened’ even though he knew damn well how. Then he left. Giving some half-assed excuse about needing fresh air, he turned his back to you despite your pleas and didn’t return for hours.
Now, rest assured, he did immediately regret having that reaction and apologized for it as soon as he came home. He didn’t mean to scare you with the thought of abandonment, but as he would quietly confess during his apology, the thought of being a parent had just been too overwhelming in the moment. Neither of you had ever talked about having kids, and while he could at least have some peace of mind knowing you’ll obviously be a great mom, he fears that the same won’t be applied to him.
You have always been the light in a dim room, as Legend would put it. You’re fun, sweet, and amazing with kids. Any child of yours, planned or not, will love you with all of their heart exactly as he does. Meanwhile he’s stubborn, cranky, and the last kid to cross his path literally started sobbing. Maybe it had to do with him being covered in monster blood after just having crawled out of a dungeon but he’s pretty sure he traumatized a kid nonetheless…The thought of being just as bad around any kid you share together scares the crap out of him.
Deep, deep down, Legend’s actually somewhat excited to be a father. Although he’s too stubborn to admit it to anyone other than you, he’ll sometimes daydream about how nice it would be to tell a little replica of you both about all his adventures or to teach them how to use some of the items he’s collected over the years like his trusty boomerang. Seeing the excitement in their eyes would definitely be worth listening to you scold him afterwards. If that’s all there was to being a father, Legend wouldn’t have a single concern, yet it’s his insecurities that always have a habit of souring things. Would his kid actually find his stories cool or would they just be tempted to throw the boomerang right at his head?
You’ve done your best to reassure him, often falling back on the argument that the baby will be a part of him. Like father, like son, right? Legend was almost ready to believe you, too, especially upon laying eyes on his child for the first time. As you passed the tiny bundle over to him, he thought that maybe being a dad wasn’t going to be that scary after all, and it might not be so bad to even have more someday either…However, his worries were quick to return when the baby started screaming two seconds after being set into his arms…
Baby screams if he holds him. Baby whimpers if he looks at him for too long. Sometimes, Legend swears the thing starts crying simply by hearing his voice in another room. It doesn’t happen with anyone else, though. The baby just adores you as predicted, but what Legend can’t stand is the fact that the baby seems to like Ravio, of all annoyances, over his own dad.
He’s forced to watch as the little brat happily lets Ravio cradle him, the sight filling him with bitter jealousy and sorrow. You’re convinced that he’s just overthinking everything - that he should give himself time to adjust to his new position as a father instead of holding himself to unrealistic standards, but how long is he exactly supposed to wait until it clicks? It’s been a whole month already and he still feels as confused as day one! Will he ever get the hang of this whole dad-thing or is he a lost cause…?
If there’s any comfort Legend can have, it’s that even Ravio doesn’t know what to do with the baby once he starts crying, so at least he’s not alone in that aspect. The only problem is you’re busy making lunch and stubbornly refuse to pause your efforts. Instead, you shove a bottle over to Legend, insisting that he be the one to feed his son since it should be a ‘good bonding exercise’ for them. You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer and judging on your glare when he tries to protest, you probably wouldn’t be happy if he tries passing the task onto Ravio either.
Thus, Legend is left to awkwardly sit down and take the baby into his arms. He already knows it’s obvious he has no idea what he’s doing, Ravio doesn’t have to point it out, but luckily after some swift around, he manages to hold his son more securely against his chest before shoving the bottle in his face. The baby continues to fuss while turning his head away from the bottle, and Legend’s almost tempted to call for you in defeat until at last, the room falls silent.
Looking down, he watches in quiet awe as his son accepts his meal eagerly. His little hands quickly rise up, gripping onto Legend’s which holds the bottle in place. They’re so tiny; barely able to wrap around a single finger - Oh, and his eyes as well! They’re wide as he stares up at his dad with unbroken eye contact. It’s like a wordless conversation - one more valuable than any he’s heard before.
You return, offering to take your son now that your work is done, but Legend is quick to shake his head. Why don’t you take a well-deserved break while he handles this little troublemaker? It would be a shame to bother him when he looks so comfortable in daddy’s arms.
You've been dating Hyrule for longer than either of you can really remember, however you aren’t in any big rush to get married, figuring that it would make no real difference in your commitment to each other. You love Hyrule and he loves you. What more is there to say? For a while there, you were both perfectly satisfied with simply taking things slow and letting fate decide your course, although more recently you’ve had to switch up that method to something more stable for the baby. Yes, a baby.
You wouldn’t necessarily call it a surprise, but you also can’t truthfully say it was planned either. You had agreed that kids might be nice if the goddesses ever blessed you with any in the future, however you weren’t exactly trying for them…You just weren’t being very careful…
Hyrule must admit he was rather nervous at the start. The only prior experience he really had around kids was with Wind, but there’s a pretty big difference between a young teen and newborn. Pair that with his not so ‘kid-friendly’ world and there’s plenty to worry over. Anything could happen, but Hyrule’s determined to be the best dad and partner he can.
First thing was first, of course: you needed a place to stay. Traveling is fun and you both enjoy being on the move, but that’s no life for a baby. Hyrule and you had actually already considered the idea of settling down someplace before, so you didn’t think of it as a massive loss to take off your adventure boots for a while. If anything, it was a welcomed change once you remembered how lovely it is to be able to kick your feet up for a rest or be surrounded by warmth during a terrible rainstorm.
Again, Hyrule takes his job as your partner very seriously which wasn’t ever a surprise to you. He found a small house for you both to rent in one of the safer villages around; a perfect place for raising a child. While he might not have a talent for decorating or making a place feel ‘homey’, he does thrive when it comes to making sure you’re comfortable, his spare rupees definitely going to fluffy wool blankets and a rickety rocking chair that he saw at a market.
Early on in the pregnancy, you noticed that your boyfriend also began showing a new found determination for cooking which did scare you a bit at first - Okay, so maybe a lot. Hyrule began taking cooking lessons from some kind elderly ladies in town who must have an endless pool of patience because while you can’t say every dish is a masterpiece (or even editable for that matter), you are happy to say Hyrule can now make things like toast and tomato soup successfully. It’s progress.
There aren’t a ton of doctors in your time and none in your village, so you have to take a lot of notes from local women regarding the process. Hearing all their stories and the possible ‘what if’s for what could go wrong made you anxious, especially once you finally go into labor, but it doesn’t faze Hyrule - not on the outside, anyway. He does an excellent job of swallowing his own fears for your peace of mind, talking you through each painful contraction and doing his best to distract you from it all until it comes time to start pushing.
Some people may get squeamish at the thought of childbirth, however Hyrule isn’t one of them. He’s fought through some terrifying dungeons and has bore witness to more than a few gory injuries over the years, so bodily fluids don’t bother him one bit. He’s kneeled down right in front of you without a second’s hesitation, multitasking between mentally reviewing what he’s been told to do and reassuring you even though he’s sure you don’t hear a word of it over your own screams.
One minute Hyrule’s encouraging you to keep pushing, the next he’s holding a small, crying baby in his arms. His movements after that feel almost automatic as he carefully cleans her off and just admires the fact that this baby - this tiny, precious gift of life is his. She’s yours and his and she’s beautiful despite having come into existence within such a broken world filled with more hardships than he could count…
Your tired voice brings him back to reality - asking if the baby you hear crying is okay. You clearly feel the same thing Hyrule does upon seeing your daughter for the first time, the two of you sitting side-by-side as you soak in this wonderful emotion. Hope...That’s what she represents. Hope for a brighter future...
#x reader#reader insert#linked universe x reader#link x reader#linked universe#lu time x reader#lu chain#lu legend x reader#lu four x reader#lu hyrule x reader#legend of zelda#legend of zelda x reader
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r u stalking me?
Lando Norris X Russell!reader
The F1 drivers twitch streamer sister Series ! Part 2
Part 1 here 863 words
Lando sits up in his bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes in an attempt to wake himself up quicker. Finding his phone in his sheets his eyes widen as the memories of last night slap him wide awake - oh god it wasn’t just a cringy dream. His thumb ghosts over the instagram app as he gains enough courage to open it. Breathing heavily when he does as he sees a DM unread.
Well - that went so much better than I expected. A sigh of relief passing his lips that he didn’t know he was holding in. smiling down at his phone like a giddy child he hears Max emerge from his room on the other side of the apartment. I’ll never live this down if I tell him - picking himself up he trudges over to his bathroom to shower in hope of clearing his mind of the y/hc girl that seems to be plaguing his thoughts.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
In a flat in London Y/N sits at her desk getting herself ready for a long awaited stream. Cursing George slightly for the sudden influx of F1 drivers following her private account - hoping her cover won’t get blown as a result, not that she has anything against her brother but she’d much rather people like her for her content and personality rather than her relation to a famous F1 driver. She’d only just started going along with him to attend the races (through a slight amount of begging) dressed in oversized hoodies and sunglasses in hopes of remaining anonymous. She had been streaming for a little over two years now and had gathered quite a following through her cutesy animal crossing, minecraft and stardew valley content. It had honestly shocked her to find out Lando had been quietly watching her streams, thinking her content wasn’t exactly his taste. She had obviously known of him prior to his follow request - him being amongst the fellow racers her brother competed against, she thought he was talented for his age and quite often rooting for him to get his first win when she watched the grand prix’s - not that she would admit that to George who would ‘jokingly’ disapprove of her supporting any team other than his.
She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and ended her fans misery - changing the stream starting soon overlay to her face cam.
“Hi guys, long time no see !” shyly running her hand through her hair.
y/nstan123: OMG finally ! where have u been ?!
User05: are queen is back at last
User22: missed ur streams where u been girly??
Y/N braces herself knowing her fanbase would have questions about her sudden social media disappearance. “Sorry chat I know it's been a while. I was quite ill the past few weeks with the flu so I’ve been laying low - I’ll remember to give you all a heads up the next time okay?” gulping back the displeasure of having to lie to her fans but on the other hand not being ready for them to discover her true identity and the fact she's been missing to go support her brother in Saudi Arabia, she continues “ but don't worry!”.
y/nstan123: Oh no ! our poor y/n
User41: r u feeling better now?
“Yes, thank you guys for your concern but I’m back to normal now” she replies clapping her hands together, “so what should I play today?”
User23: new stardew update??
User41: sims4 plz I’ve been asking foreverrrr
User52: GIFFTED 10 SUBS
y/nstan123: omg has anyone else noticed lando lurking in y/n’s streams
User41: (y/nstan123) norris???
F1stan24: (y/nstan123) no way is lando a y/n fan - my two worlds colliding !
Well shit they’ve spotted him now - do I acknowledge it?
Landonorris: DONATED £15 - I suggest you get a racing sim to play on stream
Guess I have to acknowledge him now, internally facepalming.
y/nstan123: OMG LANDO IS WATCHING HER STREAM
F1stan24: i'm losing my shit rn
User23: What is he doing here?
“Ha, well - I wouldn't really know where to start with that, I’ve never tried one” she’s trying to keep her cool now, not expecting him to put himself on blast like that - hiding behind her hair without realizing it.
User64: aww is y/n blushing
User38: (user64) I don’t blame her I’d be sobbing if that was me that got noticed by him
“Okay chat calm down, you guys are trying to embarrass me I swear”
y/nstan123: nah girly ur doing a good job of that urself
“I can’t believe how quick you lot switch up on me chat” Y/N groans out head now in her hands as her face reddens.
Ding
Her phone lights up on her desk taking her focus from the relentless bullying from her so called fans to her insta dms.
y/nstan123: guys she's giggling at her phone im gonna scream
User48: omg imagine its lando she’s messaging
F1stan24: ngl I ship it already
“You guys are insane” trying to brush off her laughter at a curtain someone's reply as just reading the flowing twitch chat. “Okay let's play some stardew before you all lose your minds”.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for reading <3
Taglist : @bicchaan @lauralarsen @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @ssararuffoni @cherry-piee @eviethetheatrefreak
#lando norris#lando x reader#landonorris#lando norris x y/n#lando norizz#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#charles leclerc#george russel x reader#charles leclerc x reader
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