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ereardon · 2 years

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As It Was [Chapter 9][Hangman x Reader]

Summary: When Jake Seresin calls to tell you he’s accepted a permanent position at Top Gun, you’re elated to finally be living in the same city as your best friend. But everything changes when Jake tells you his news — he has a new girlfriend, and he’s serious about her. And while you want to like her, for Jake’s sake, something about her feels wrong. Jake's arrival in San Diego also puts you in the direct path of Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, who has set his sights on you despite being Jake’s sworn enemy. Every move Rooster makes, Jake intercepts. What game are these two playing, and why is Jake more concerned about you moving on with Rooster than he is about his own relationship?

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, no use of y/n, war, smut, angst, mention of death

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

WC: 7.4K

Series masterlist here

You tried to heed Bradley’s requests. You found a lawyer and the paperwork for the bungalow. Managed to find a young woman with two small children who cried when you said the previous owner would sell it at any price she needed it to be.

You tried to stay busy. Going back to the University and labs and classes. Finishing your research paper for the department head. Organizing the memorial with the team. Avoiding Jake.

That had been one of the hardest parts. You didn’t know how to be around him, after Bradley’s letter.

The day after they returned, you had called Phoenix and asked her to come over. She sat on the couch next to you and read the letter, twice, before looking up and setting it down on the coffee table, tears staining her lovely face.

“What do you think?” you asked her softly after a moment passed.

“I think he really loved you.”

“I know he did,” you whispered, gripping the pillow you had in your lap closer to your body. “But I meant what do you think about what he said? About Jake.”

She looked up and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Do you think I should be with him?”

“Nobody but you can answer that.”

You leaned your head back against the couch. “Either way, it’s too soon.”

“Have you talked to Jake?”

“No. He called but I ignored it.”

“I’m shocked I’m even saying this, but you should call him back,” she said. “Listen, this mission. It was hard on all of us. Not just losing Bradley. Everything about it. I know you’re in pain and you’re hurt. But he needs you, too.”

You leaned over and took her hand in yours. “How are you?”

She shook her head, shiny brown hair swishing. “I’m alright. Not great. I’m going out to dinner with Bob and Fanboy later. We might end up at the Hard Deck if you want to join?”

You bowed your head. “I don’t know if I can go back there and not see Bradley everywhere I look.”

“I know. But it gets easier. One day at a time.”

“That’s what everyone says. But I’m not sure.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“About what?”

“Are you going to show Seresin the letter?”

You shook your head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

You sighed. “I’m not ready. No matter what Bradley thinks. Thought.” You corrected yourself. “I lied to you before, about saying Jake never felt anything for me. I heard him once, our senior year, when I was pretending to be asleep. He was talking to some friends and said he tried to make a move on me and I stopped him. But that was a decade ago. Before Diana. Before Bradley. So much has happened, I’m sure he doesn’t feel the same way.

“And besides,” you added. “What if he reads it and says he loves me only because the letter told him to? Like he thinks he owes it to me or to Bradley?”

Phoenix widened her eyes. “I think the only question is, do you love him?”

***

Three days passed after your conversation with Phoenix. You continued to ignore Jake’s calls and texts.

Close to midnight, just as you were about to turn off the TV and go to bed, you heard a loud knocking on the door.

You pulled your robe ties tighter and opened the door hesitantly. Jake stood with his fist raised, poised to knock again.

“Jesus, Abby,” he said, walking in and closing the door quickly without waiting for you to invite him in. “What is going on? I’ve been trying to call you for days, and nothing. I thought something was wrong until Phoenix told me she spoke to you on the phone yesterday.”

You crossed your arms and shrugged. “Just not feeling up to talking.”

“Sweetheart,” he said, reaching out a hand to grab your arm and you instinctively moved out of reach. The pain flashed across Jake’s face and you watched in slow motion as his hand fell back to his side, his smile turned into a questioning frown, his eyebrows knitted together across his smooth forehead, gem green eyes fogged over. “Abby, what’s going on?”

You shook your head and simply walked into your bedroom, Jake following on your heels. He flicked on the lamp in the corner and took a seat in the chair next to the built-in bookcase, and you slid off your robe, revealing a pair of thin panties and a camisole, sliding under the covers and sitting propped up against the headboard. “It’s late, Jake,” you sighed. “What are you doing here?”

“I already told you. I was fucking worried about you. Bubs, are you mad at me?”

“No.” It was unconvincing.

He leaned forward, pressing his elbows to his thighs and resting his head in his hands, taking in a deep breath before looking up at you, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “Darlin’, what is it? What did I do? Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head and willed the tears that had started to form behind your eyes to get reabsorbed, but instead you felt them start to leak from the corner. “It’s nothing, OK. Can you just go? I’m tired.”

“You know I can’t leave right now,” he whispered and the tenderness in his voice almost broke you. “Not when you’re upset.”

“Fucking GO Jake!” you yelled and the sheer volume and frustration sent him flying backwards in his seat in shock. You could count on one hand the number of times you had ever yelled at Jake. You hated to do it, but he might not stop nagging you unless you tried.

“Abby,” he said quietly, standing up and slowly making his way to the edge of the bed, sitting on the opposite side. Bradley’s side. You had left it empty for him since the day you came back from the tarmac alone. “Honey, let me in. I know you’re sad and I know you’re hurting, but pushing me away isn’t going to help. Unless you’re mad at me for something specific. If that’s the case, tell me. Please.”

You shook your head, the tears continuing to leak down your face.

Jake took a deep breath. “Are you mad because I came home and he didn’t?”

You turned to him, eyes wide in shock. You couldn't believe he thought that. Jake swallowed before continuing.

“Because if you were, I wouldn’t blame you. You lost him. It should have been me out there. It should have been me who never came back.”

“I’m upset that I’m not mad,” you said and Jake turned, his eyes growing into saucers. “The fact that I’m happy that you came home makes me so fucking sick and guilty.”

“Abby,” he whispered.

“I feel so fucking bad about how happy I am that you’re alive. That I get to see you and touch you every day. And how sometimes that happiness almost, for a second, makes me forget that he isn’t here. That he’ll never be here again. That I’ll never hear his voice or feel his touch or see his smile or listen to him play the piano.”

“He wouldn’t want you to feel guilty, baby,” Jake whispered, reaching out a hand and pressing it tightly against yours. You felt a sob rise in your throat. “He wanted you to be happy.”

“I’m not happy,” you said quietly, sliding down against the pillows, still gripping Jake’s hand tightly. “I feel empty.” You curled onto one side. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. It just feels wrong. To see you and be so happy about it.”

“But you’ll see Phoenix and Bob?” he asked quietly. There was a sense of jealousy running through his words.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Your voice came out so small.

Jake let go of your hand, sliding off the bed.

“Wait!” you called out, now desperate for him not to leave, only to see him unzipping his hoodie, and sliding off his sweatpants to reveal a pair of green boxers. “God, you’re the worst.”

He chuckled and grabbed the edge of the duvet, pulling it down and climbing in next to you, immediately gathering you in his arms. You remembered the last time he had held you like that. The night before the mission. And it hurt, all over again. Remembering that he had come back.

And Bradley hadn’t.

Jake let you weep against him, simply stroking your hair and running his fingers down your back gently. He wiped the tears away from your cheeks and flipped the pillow around to the dry side once you had exhausted yourself. Wrapped his arms around you from behind, let his hand linger over your stomach, pressed against you tightly.

“I know you miss him,” he whispered in your ear. “But I’m here. When you’re ready.”

Something inside of you snapped. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the late hour or the week’s worth of tears that you had spilled. Maybe it was the fact that you had gone so long without another person’s touch. Maybe it was that you had forgotten how to be alone.

You grabbed his hand and slowly dragged it down between your legs until you felt Jake’s thick fingers brush against your thin cotton panties. You pressed his hand against you, felt his fingers instinctively curl in and upward and you leaned your head back against his chest, let out a soft moan. Jake shifted in closer, and you felt his fingers start to rub against your clothed core and you pushed back against him.

“Jake,” you moaned and it was as if his name on your lips rang the alarm bells in his mind. Suddenly, Jake pulled away, rolling over and yanking his hand off of you.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” he said, peeling back the covers and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I should go.”

He stood up, pulling his sweats back on, and you gathered the sheets around you.

“Jake?” you pleaded, but he was already zipping his sweatshirt up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He turned around, sliding his foot into his sneaker, with pleading, sad eyes. You expected him to come back to the bed, cup your face with his hands, tell you it wasn’t your fault. You expected him to coddle you. Everyone had been coddling you for weeks. Jake had coddled you your entire life.

Instead, he remained silent. Just slipped out of the bedroom and rushed down the hall, and you heard the front door slam behind him. You heard his truck rumbling as he backed down the driveway in a rush.

“Fuck!” you shouted, throwing yourself back against the bed, letting the fountain of tears open once again.

Somehow you had lost them both on that mission. You just didn’t know it until that moment.

***

Two weeks passed. You and Jake never mentioned what had happened, and you hadn’t seen him since that night. You had texted and spoken on the phone a few times, but that was it.

And while you really didn’t feel like it, there was a Naval benefit ball that Natasha was insisting you go to along with the rest of the team.

“Jake is going to be there,” you complained, standing in the middle of your room completely naked with Natasha on speakerphone while you stared at seven different floor length dresses spread out across the bed.

“Since when are you afraid of Seresin?” she asked.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your wet hair. “I’m not afraid of him. I’ve just been avoiding him since that night. What the fuck was going through my mind? It’s like I literally lost my shit.”

“You were depressed. And fucking exhausted. I’m sure he understands.”

“It was embarrassing. He could not have gotten out of there fast enough. He obviously doesn’t feel anything for me anymore.”

“Do you feel something for him?”

You paused. “And what about Diana? How awful am I that did that knowing full well he has a girlfriend? It just slipped my mind. If I were her, I’d be pissed.”

“Diana? Abby don’t you know …”

Your phone started ringing and you cut her off. “Nat? I gotta go, someone’s calling. I’ll text you when I get there!” You pressed the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey Bubs.” Jake’s voice rang through the phone, sending goosebumps down your bare arms and legs.

“Jake. Hi.” You hated how awkward you sounded.

“I just wanted to see if you were coming tonight. To the party.”

“Uh, yeah, Natasha invited me. Is that OK?”

He laughed softly. “Baby, yes, that’s OK. I wanted to see if I could come pick you up, but it sounds like you already have a plan.”

On one hand, a ride sounded nice. But on the other hand, you were nervous to be alone with Jake. “Yeah, I think I’m set. But I’ll see you there?”

He let out a small breath. “OK, sweetheart. Hey, are we alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“Nevermind. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight, Jake.”

You started to hang up when you heard, “Save me a dance, OK?”

You smiled. “I promise.”

The line clicked and you tossed the phone onto the bed into the heap of dresses.

You were late. The dress decision had taken too long and by the time you looked at the clock you were already behind.

Thanking the Uber driver, you got out as quickly as you could in the tight dark blue dress, yanking up the strapless neckline as you rushed inside. It was a venue downtown that you had never been to before. A doorman opened the door for you with a smile, ushering you in and you smiled after him. Inside, there was a large foyer with marble pillars that overlooked the level below where you peered down to see the dance floor and band, along with tables set for dinner. You checked your phone. Natasha said she was already there and to meet her at table seven.

“Ma’am?” you turned around to see a man in a Naval uniform. “The staircase is over there.” He pointed across the way and you saw a large grand marble staircase leading down to the lower level.

“Thanks so much,” you said, nodding and heading that way.

As you rounded the corner of the staircase, you took a deep breath. God, you wished Bradley were there. He would make a joke about tripping down the stairs. But then he would grab your hand tightly and make sure you never for a second thought you would fall.

You gripped the railing and turned onto the staircase, taking it one step at a time. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that you bothered to look up.

Jake stood in a black tux at the very bottom of the staircase, his hands clasped together in front of him. Behind, you could see the dance floor already swirling with bodies. Everyone was drinking and laughing, but Jake stood at the foot of the stairs with his eyes glued on yours.

And for a moment, you remembered what you had told him all those years ago on the phone. How you had always dreamt of a perfect movie moment on a staircase, beautiful guy watching you descend the stairs like no one else in the room existed.

So when you descended the rest of the stairs and he made his way to the bottom, holding out one hand, you took it. Something inside of you clicked.

“You look gorgeous,” he said softly, eyes roaming over you before landing back on your face.

“You look pretty good yourself,” you said back, smiling.

Jake didn’t let go of your hand. “I’m really glad you came.”

You nodded. “Where’s Diana?” Looking around, you couldn’t spot her. You saw Natsha sitting with Bob and the rest of the team at the table. She gave you a smile and a raised eyebrow.

Jake shook his head. “She moved out.”

“What?” you were shocked. “When?”

“Before the mission.”

“What?” you repeated. “Why?”

Jake’s green eyes focused on yours. “She said it was her or you. And it’s always been you, Abby. Even if you were with him. It was always going to be you and she knew it. I’d rather have you in my life as my friend than not at all.”

“Jake,” you whispered softly, reaching out your free hand to cup his cheek.

“I love you,” he said and you felt your heart start to thump hard in your chest. “God, Abby, I’ve loved you for so long I can’t even remember a time when I didn’t love you. And I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you. But then you were with Bradshaw. And I know you loved him. I couldn’t ruin that for you.

“I know it’s probably too soon and you don’t love me back. But I had to tell you anyway. I need you to know that I love you more than anything in this world. I will wait for you, because I know you’re still mourning him. I don’t care if I have to wait five years. Or fifty years. I don’t care if you never love me the way I love you. It’s still going to be you. Nobody else compares.”

“Jake.”

He gave you a sad, pained smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laid this all on you right now.” And before you could say anything else he was gone. You watched as he walked swiftly out of the room, up the stairs and around the corner toward the back door. Back at the table, Natasha gave you a questioning look. You knew she had seen everything.

“Go,” she mouthed, looking up at the stairs. You hiked up your dress and rushed up the stairs as fast as you could, following the path you saw Jake take around the edge of the hallway, through the back doors.

The rush of cold night air hit you as you entered the back gardens of the building. Past the manicured hedges, you saw Jake standing near a fountain, head bowed in frustration. You watched as he kicked the gravel in anger.

He didn’t even hear as you approached him silently from behind, but he twitched when you placed your small hands on his back.

“Honey,” you said softly and he turned. His eyes were ringed with red and he looked away, wiping at them quickly.

“It’s cold,” he said, shrugging off his jacket immediately and placing it around your shoulders. “You should go inside, Abs. Dinner will be starting soon.” He couldn’t even make eye contact with you.

You shook your head. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Abby, I never want to be alone when I could be with you,” Jake said quietly. “I hope you know that.”

You stepped closer, pressed your hands to his sides and looked up at him. “I know.” “What are you doing?” he breathed out softly. You ran your fingers down his sides and across his back.

“Why did you stop me?” you whispered. “The other night, in my room. Why did you pull away?”

“Because I needed to know that you wanted me for me,” he said. “And not because you were lonely or missing him.”

“I’m scared,” you murmured, Jake’s eyes following yours.

“It’s OK to be scared.”

“I wanted you,” you whispered and you watched his eyes grow wider. “I was ashamed because it’s so soon after Bradley. But I wanted you, Jake. Just like I want you now.”

He didn’t wait. Just reached down and pressed his hands to your face, catching his lips on yours. Jake’s hands skimmed down your cheeks down your neck and shoulders to your back, bending you over as he kissed you deeply. And it felt like everything, the music from inside and the lights and the sounds of traffic in the distance, all melted away. It was just you and Jake. For the first time.

And after so long, it felt like everything was falling into place. The way you feel when you put the final piece of the puzzle into its correct position. That last step before summiting the mountain. The breathy anticipation.

It felt like coming home.

When you pulled back, he grinned at you. That pearly white, Jake Seresin smile that you were so familiar with.

“I love you, too,” you whispered and you watched the relief flood his face. “I think a part of me has always been in love with you. I was just scared to ruin everything and go for it.”

He squeezed your ass under the dress and you laughed. “You know that you can’t take it back, right?” he whispered. “You said you loved me so you’re mine now. Forever. I am never letting you go.”

“Baby,” you whispered, reaching up and combing your fingers through his hair. “I think I’ve always been yours.”

***

Jake was antsy to leave. Jake’s hand was warm on your dress under the slit, fingers constantly roaming north of where they belonged and you would slap your hand on his and watch his smirk as he took a sip of water. He was stone cold sober and so were you. You wanted to remember everything.

Phoenix noticed immediately, and within the hour the rest of the team caught on as well. You had been worried they would be offended. That it was too soon after Bradley’s death to move on. But that didn’t seem to be the case.

In the bathroom, you leaned over the sink to reapply lipstick when Phoenix practically tackled you. “What happened?” she asked, breathless.

You smiled and turned away from the mirror. “He said he loves me.”

“And?”

“I said I loved him, too.” She squealed so loudly another girl looked over with a horrified grimace and you laughed. She threw her arms around you and squeezed tightly.

“Thank GOD,” Phoenix said, pulling back. “It’s about time.”

“You’re not mad?” you asked quietly. “Or upset?”

“Why would I be upset?”

“Bradley was your best friend,” you said softly. “It’s only been a month.”

“Abby, he wanted you to be happy. He wanted you with Seresin. That’s enough in my book. You deserve to be happy. Both of you do.”

“What about the rest of the team?”

She grinned. “They’ll be thrilled. Mostly because half of them have a betting pool on how long it would take you two idiots to finally realize you love each other and just get on with it.”

“Oh my God,” you muttered, shaking your head and snapping your clutch together. “I hate you guys.”

She linked her arm in yours and pulled you back out into the main room. “Well, you’re stuck with us.”

Jake’s hand moved from your leg to your back on the chair. “One dance,” he said seductively in your ear. “And then I want to take you home with me.”

You batted your eyelashes at him. “Oh yeah?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Mmhm.”

You gave him your hand and he pulled you to standing, walking you out onto the dance floor and pulling you into his arms. “Is this weird to you?”

Jake’s hand gripped tightly on the small of your back. “Not at all. Is it weird to you?”

You shrugged. “Yes and no. I’m used to touching you. You’ve always been touchy feely.” He grinned. “But I think it’ll take a moment to sink in.”

“Take all the time you want, darlin’,” he said softly, spinning you out and pulling you back in seamlessly. “I’ll be here.”

You slid your hand out of his and pressed it to his neck, thumb brushing lightly over his chiseled jaw. “Kiss me again and maybe I’ll get used to it faster.”

Jake leaned down. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

He pressed his lips against your tightly, both hands coming around and inching lower on your back as your fingers threaded up over the nap of his neck into his hair. Somewhere in the distance you heard a wolf whistle and laughter, and when you broke apart you wiped lipstick from Jake’s lips. “Let’s get out of here.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you off the dance floor in a rush. You stopped at the table to grab your clutch, shooting Phoenix a grin, and watched as Coyote and Payback sighed, pulling out their wallets and dropping cash on the table. Bob and Fanboy grabbed their winnings and you laughed.

“Bye boys,” you said, waving a hand and they chorused a round of goodbyes.

Jake’s hands were all over you while you watched for the valet and you had to laugh and shove him off to even get in the car. He looked over at you from the driver’s seat. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

You buckled your seatbelt. “To sleep with me? I’m guessing since the first night we met. I think that cow costume just really got you going.”

He smiled and shook his head, pulling the car into drive. “Not just sleep with you. Be with you.”

“We’re together all the time,” you said, relaxing back into the seat.

“It’s different,” he said softly.

Back at Jake’s house, you were shocked to see how different it was without Diana’s things. The weird couch and chair combo was gone, instead replaced by a large sectional. The black and white photos on the wall in the entryway were gone. It felt more masculine and simple. You preferred it.

You headed for the bedroom immediately and saw Jake disappear into the kitchen. “Jake?” you called out.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”

You hadn’t seen his room before, so you didn’t know what had changed. There was a massive king bed in the center against the far wall, tasteful ivory duvet tucked neatly. You knew Jake was a stickler about making his bed first thing in the morning. There was a green velvet chair in the corner next to a small stack of books and a side table with a banker’s lamp on it, and you noticed a large soaking tub in the en suite bathroom.

Jake opened the door holding two glasses and a bottle of champagne, setting them down on the bay windowsill.

“Nervous?” he asked and you shook your head, throwing yourself into his arms. He grabbed you, lifting you up, his hands planted firmly on your ass.

You kissed him. “How can I be nervous after fifteen years?”

He walked you over to the bed, setting you down gently. “I’m a little nervous.”

You laughed. “You? Jake Seresin? The prettiest boy in the Navy? I don’t even want to know your body count. How can you be nervous?”

“Baby,” he said softly, “nobody has ever made me feel the way you do. I’ve never wanted something more in my entire life. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be face-to-face with your dream that’s become reality?” He was kneeling at the edge of the bed and you sat up, running your fingers through his hair.

“I’m yours,” you said quietly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

You stood up, pulling Jake to standing, and turned around.

“Unzip please.” Jake’s warm hands came out and slowly undid the top hook, pulling the zipper down your back until he hit your underwear line. You turned around and slid the dress down until you were standing in front of him in just your panties. The dress had been too tight on the top for a bra.

“Fuck,” he whispered as you kicked the dress to the side and stepped forward, reaching for his shirt. “God, you’re beautiful.”

You fiddled with his bowtie, successfully pulling it apart, and started to slowly unbutton his white shirt. Finally it popped open and you smoothed your fingers over his bare chest. No matter how many times you had seen Jake shirtless before, even touched him casually, this felt different. You pressed your bare chest against him and heard him moan.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, warm hands coming down to press against your bare back, one hand skimming your thin lace panties as he groaned into the side of your neck.

Your fingers slid down his six pack toward his belt buckle and you felt Jake take a sharp breath in as you deftly undid it, sliding the zipper down and feeling him hard beneath your fingers. “Shit,” you whispered as you tugged his pants off, seeing him hard inside of his briefs for the first time. He was massive. You had an idea of his size before, but this was different. This time, he was hard for you. And you wanted it. Your hand reached out and cupped him over the underwear and you heard Jake gasp.

“Fuck!” he muttered, hands moving around to your chest, easily finding your nipples and you moaned against him. “God, baby.” His voice was shaky as you slowly slid your hand up and down across his hard cock inside his briefs and watched Jake’s eyes close in ecstasy. They flew open as you grabbed his waist and spun him, pushing him down onto the bed in a seated position and climbing on his lap, grinding yourself down on him. “Fuck, Abby, you feel so good and wet already.” Your hands gripped his shoulders as you rocked back and forth on him, his fingers digging hard into your hips, bucking up against you.

“God,” you moaned, dropping your head down against his shoulder and you felt Jake wrap his arms around you.

“Kiss me,” he said and you pulled your head up, pressing your lips to his. It was soft and delicate and you felt him moaning into your mouth as you switched to shifting your hips in circles on his lap. “Shit,” he groaned. “Baby, you’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that.”

You leaned back. “Already?”

He grinned. “You’re so fucking hot, what do you expect?”

You smiled and stopped and Jake ran his hands down your neck and down your arms.

“How are you real?” he whispered.

You inched forward, skimming your lips against his neck, feeling him swell against you. “Make love to me,” you whispered into his ear. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

Jake’s arms tightened around you, and in an instant he had you on your back, eagerly hovering above you, his warm lips kissing a trail down your neck to your breasts. His tongue swirled around each nipple as you arched your back, moaning unabashed, before he dipped lower, kissing a scattered trail across your stomach before stopping at the waist of your underwear. Jake laid down on his stomach between your legs, hooking his thumbs under the band of your underwear and yanking them down before pushing your legs apart.

You looked down at him staring between your legs. “Like what you see?”

He nodded, inching forward and licking a strip up to your clit and you let out a sharp cry that turned into a screaming moan as he locked his lips against you, tongue flicking naturally against your folds before landing perfectly on your clit.

“Fuck, Jake!”

That urged him on, his hands reaching around and grabbing your thighs, face buried so deep in your cunt his nose was pressed against the bottom of your clit as his tongue darted inside of you. You squirmed and grabbed a fistful of his blond hair, eyes rolling back into your head. Jake reached one finger toward your entrance, slowly pushing inside until you screamed before adding in another, bending it against your walls and hitting your g spot.

“God, baby, yes,” you moaned and he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers while licking you and you started to feel the familiar waves of pleasure. “Baby, I’m going to cum. Stop, stop!”

He froze, looking up at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and laughed. “Nothing. I just don’t want to cum yet.”

“Why not?”

“I want the first time I cum with you to be with you inside of me.”

That made him groan and sit up and you saw that his cock was harder in his briefs than it had been before.

“Take those off,” you said quietly and he pushed them down, his cock springing forward and you couldn’t help it. You gasped. Jake smirked and you hit his arm playfully. “Shut up.”

He chuckled and crawled up the bed, lying down next to you and you tossed one leg over him before reaching down and wrapping your hand around his cock. It was long and girthy and Jake tossed his head back as soon as you started to stroke him. You started to slide down the bed but Jake’s eyes shot out, and he put his hand on yours, stopping you. “Wait,” he said.

“What?” You had never in your entire life had a man stop you from giving a blowjob. And never had you expected Jake to be the person who would stop you. “You don’t want me to?”

“Honey,” he said, mirth in his eyes. “I want nothing more. But I don’t think I’ll last another second if you put your mouth on me. And I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me.” You smiled and laid back down, let Jake shift his weight back over you, his strong arms on either side of your head. Your legs opened for him naturally, and he looked down, grinning.

“Oh, you’re ready,” he said and you rolled your eyes which made him laugh. “God, I want you so fucking bad,” he whispered into your neck and you put your hand on his back, pulling him in closer. “Do you want me to wear a condom?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I have an IUD. Besides, I want to feel you inside of me.” You leaned into his ear. “Want to feel your hot cum filling me.”

“Fuck.” Jake looked like he was about to go rabid any second. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

You scratched at his back again, bringing his pelvis closer to yours and you gasped when you felt his cock brush against your entrance. “Jake, I can’t wait. I need you.”

“I got you, sweetheart,” he said, reaching down between you and running the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You leaned back and closed your eyes, lifting your hips to meet him. Finally, you felt him sink into you slowly. You let out a small cry, and Jake brushed his hand against your cheek. “I know, baby. I’ll go slow, I promise.”

He pressed into you achingly slow, and you looked down expecting to be full and saw he was only just past the tip. “God.” You threw your head back, your eyes rolling upwards.

Jake rolled his hips slightly, edging in further, and you winced. “Are you OK?” he asked, worried.

“Keep going,” you panted, fingers scratching at his back. “I need all of you inside of me.” That spurred him on, and he pressed in further until finally he was all the way in and you were left gasping for air, legs trembling around his waist.

Jake leaned down, remaining still, letting you adjust, and pressed his lips to yours. “I love you.”

You smiled up at him, wrapping your legs tight around his waist and rocking slightly which pulled a moan from his beautiful mouth. “I love you so much.” It came out so easily. The words you had thought might never make their way out. But looking at Jake and feeling him inside of you, you knew that it was right. And all the time you had waited had led to this moment. “Make love to me,” you whispered. “Please.”

Jake rolled his hips against yours, slowly, and you dug your fingers into his muscular biceps, your thighs squeezing around his hips. He kissed across your neck before picking up the pace, bucking into you quickly until you were almost out of breath, gasps and moans interspersed with curse words falling out of your mouth in rapid succession.

“Fuck, Jake, yes, baby, right there,” you moaned and he reached down, pressing his thumb against your clit and sending your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“God, you feel perfect around me,” he grunted, working his finger faster over your bud. “Want to feel you cum around my cock with your perfect pussy. Feels like you were made for me.”

“It’s all yours,” you gasped, pressing your lips against his. “I’m going to cum baby,” you whispered.

He nodded. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Please, baby, you’re doing so good. Let it all go.” With a quick flick of his thumb you started to fall apart around him, the orgasm taking you so high you grabbed Jake’s neck with your arms, tears streaming down your face as he rocked into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

Jake held you tightly against his chest, slamming into you so deep you felt him touch your cervix, and you felt him increase his speed, moaning into your shoulder as he spilled inside of you.

When he stopped rocking, you pulled back and collapsed onto the bed. Jake rolled over and laid down next to you. You were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He propped himself up on one arm, running a finger down your cheek. “You’re the most beautiful woman, Abby. And I love you so damn much.”

You leaned over and kissed him. “Worth the wait?”

He grinned. “Without a doubt. Although I wish we could have been doing that for the last fifteen years.”

“I’ve never cried during an orgasm before,” you said.

Jake wiped at the corner of your eye. “What can I say, I’m that good.”

You pushed his shoulder and he laughed, falling back against the stack of pillows.

Jake drew you a bubble bath and sat on a stool while you drank champagne in the tub. He dried you off and wrapped you in a fluffy bathrobe and you watched Seinfeld reruns until your head lolled against the back of the couch. You didn’t even protest when he carried you to bed, stripping down naked and sliding in, cradling you close.

And you definitely didn’t protest when you woke up in the middle of the night to find him smiling at you before grinning and pulling the sheet above his head, settling between your legs.

When you woke up again it was early, the sun barely peeking out. Jake’s side of the bed was already empty. You shrugged on a t-shirt from his dresser and found him in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee.

“Get dressed,” he said when he spotted you, walking over and sweeping you up in a kiss. “I have a surprise, but we have to get going.”

“I have no clothes, just an evening gown and a pair of ripped panties.”

“Look on the chair in the room.”

You found a pair of old leggings, a sports bra, one of Jake’s button down shirts next to a pair of tennis shoes. A full gym outfit you must have left at his place that he washed and kept, just in case. He slipped his hand into yours, pulling you into the Jeep.

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t you know what the word surprise means?” he asked.

But the minute you hit the freeway, you knew where you were headed. When Jake pulled up to the Top Gun gates, you looked over in confusion. “Do you have to work?”

He shook his head. “Thankfully not.”

He drove out past the visitor’s parking lot where you always parked, back to the landing strips behind the building. Jake jumped out and pulled open your door, grabbing your hand and guiding you out to the edge of the runway. It was quiet. Nobody else in sight. The sun had just started to rise over the water. Jake turned to you.

“The day we left on that mission, I stood right here with Bradshaw.” Even the mention of Bradley made small tears well behind your eyes. “He handed me that letter, and he told me what was inside. And I knew that I had gotten him all wrong this whole time. He was a good man. He might have even been a better man than I am. Because only a better man would give up the woman he loves the most in this world to someone who had, up until that point, only treated him with unkindness. He asked me to take care of you. Said he knew he didn’t have to ask. That I would do it whether or not he wanted me to.” You laughed at that, wiping away the tear that had started to fall from your eye. “Baby, he was right. I almost didn’t get on that ship. I thought about turning around. Grabbing you and running. Turn my back on the Navy. On my friends that had become my family. All I wanted in the entire world was to be your home.”

You reached out, grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“But I didn’t. Because I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be the man I needed to be, for you. I love you, Abby. You’re the reason I came back. You’re the reason I left. You’re the reason I get up in the morning. I can’t believe it took me so long to tell you all of this. But I don’t want to spend another single day without you.”

“You don’t have to,” you whispered. “I’m all yours.”

Jake dropped down onto a knee and you gasped, hands flying to your mouth as he dug in his pocket, pulling out a ruby red velvet box. “Abby Minces. I’ve loved you since we were eighteen years old. I’ve loved you every second of every day. You’re the one constant that I cling to, and you’re the only person I can imagine living my life with. Will you marry me?”

You nodded, at a complete loss for words.

“I’m going to need to hear you say it, darlin’,” he murmured with a smile.

“Yes! I love you! Yes,” you said, throwing your arms around his neck and Jake picked you up, swung you in a circle, before putting you down on the ground and opening the box.

You gasped again. It was at least four carats, a giant brilliant round diamond nestled in a plain yellow gold band.

“Oh, my God,” you murmured.

“It’s my mother’s,” he said and you looked up in shock. “She took it off the Thanksgiving you spent with our family and forced me to take it. Said I had to ask you to marry me. I’m just sorry it took six years, baby. I've been waiting for you my entire life.”

Jake grabbed your hand and slid the ring on. It was slightly too big, but you didn’t care. You would get it resized. “Jake,” you whispered softly.

“Yes, baby?” he asked, cupping both of your cheeks with his hands.

“I’m just thinking how lucky I am,” you said. “That you picked me, of all people.”

He smiled and you could picture him like it was yesterday. Blue blazer, khakis, leaning against the white railing at the Sig Ep house that warm September night when you first met.

He had changed. So had you. Fifteen years worth of birthdays and long distance calls and Christmases and fights and makeups and laughs and shared meals and car rides with the top down and soft glances and knowing smiles.

You couldn’t wait for the next fifteen years. The next fifty years. The rest of your lives.

And you wouldn't have to.

THE END

A/N: Thank you everyone for following along with this series! I loved writing Bradley so much in this that I might do a Bradley x Reader fic next! Comment if there's any specific tropes you would be interested in seeing.

Tag list: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @blue-aconite @abaker74 @vir-tual @justanothermagicalsara @hiddleless @lexhalstead3 @stevieharringtongf @katiebby04 @clairedelarosa-blog @chiffondaydreams @evans-dejong @thechillingadventuresoftayla @hopefulinlove @teenwolf01 @emptyloverofmine @zablife @lgg5989 @tallrock35 @shanimallina87 @kkrenae @maggiedanikka @whateverbagman @marantha @materialgirl01 @percysaidnever @mandylove1000 @tayrae515 @taytaylala12

#jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman fic #hangman top gun #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #hangman imagine #jake seresin x reader #hangman x oc #jake x oc #jake seresin x oc

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time). big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights for this specific imagery

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough.

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

��Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?”

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles.

A small smirk makes its way onto your face.

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them.

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder.

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.”

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door.

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.”

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.”

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly.

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this.

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 3 years

Text

This Boy (George Harrison x Female!Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all! welcome to my first oneshot! a lot of my stories are very plot-driven and they end up becoming these long chapter fics but I'm gonna see if I can make a handful of oneshots in the next little bit to kind of give yous something to read while waiting for the longer fics to finish up. this is my first one, and it's for Georgie!

Summary: It's date night, and you're more than ready to meet your mystery date; George, however, is not.

WARNINGS: Swearing is in almost all my fics, so this one isn't safe either probably, hints of suggestive behaviour, slow burn, friends to lovers, lack of self-editing probably, etc. *This fic is also LONG AF so I would advise y'all to start reading this when you have nothing else to do*

I'll rate this one as a T. Enjoy, folks!

George checked the clock on the wall again and sighed gently.

You were still getting ready.

As much as it disappointed him, George agreed-- well, more like offered-- to drive you to your blind date one of your girlfriends set you up on.

It's not that he wasn't excited or proud of you for getting yourself out there. He knew you'd been meaning to do that since graduating school.

He was just frustrated at the fact that whichever lucky man was going on a date with you that night wasn't him.

When he found out about the date, he immediately vocalized his distrust for the mystery person, despite knowing absolutely zero about him. You seemed heartbroken at that, and to make it up to you, he offered to drive you to the date.

So there he was, sitting on the sofa in the living area of your flat, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

George had taken you to school dances in the past, and while your mother let you wear makeup to them, it never took you this long to apply it.

You were definitely dressing to impress tonight.

"Lucky man," he just mumbled under his breath at the thought of that boy.

You and George had been friends since you were children, and he deemed you his Best Friend Forever only an hour into your first playtime.

You spent your days as children riding your bikes to the park to play, and helping each other with homework at each other's houses every night.

However, that sort of platonic "buddy-buddy" dynamic changed when the both of you hit puberty.

It wasn't until a boy at George's school questioned him if you were his girlfriend, that George realized he had a crush on you. Some of his friends had girl friends, and they were always teased about whether or not they were dating, but this was the first time anyone had put you and George together.

After this discovery, (which he would endlessly thank the young boy who opened his eyes to the truth in the first place) George began to notice lots of little things about you that he hadn't before.

You would run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head during hugs, you never took your eyes away from him when he was speaking; there hadn't been one time to name that you'd ever made him upset or angry, but more or less excited, and free, and joyous.

And not to mention, the way you called him "Georgie" made his heart pound so loud and hard in his chest that he might as well have just completed a marathon...

He was in love with everything only when you were around.

Actually, as awkward as George thinks it is, Paul helped him realize he was physically attracted to you.

The boys were on their way to George's after school, a few years after George realized he had a little crush on you, and the teenagers both caught sight of you watering the front garden of your home at the request of your mother.

George stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his mouth hanging open as he watched you do your thing. After being enrolled in his boy's school, you never had much time to see one another, as much as it hurt him; so he cherished every moment he could see you.

"If her ma catches you out the window starin' at her daughter's arse the way you're doin' right now Harrison, they'll rip your tongue right out."

George's face went bright red, and he turned to look at Paul in horror, slapping him on the arm for saying such a thing. "I wasn't staring at her like that!" But he couldn't help but steal a glance at your behind since it was now the topic of discussion, though he really didn't want it to be.

Paul knew George felt compelled to say something to you, and he smirked as George awkwardly raised his hand to wave as he called to you from the other side of the street.

"H-hey, Y/n!"

You turned around, and grinned at who you'd seen.

"Hey Georgie! Hi Paulie!" You twiddled your fingers at them, and George's stomach churned in jealousy at the fact you had a nickname for Paul, as well.

"Your garden looks beautiful, Ms. Y/l/n!"

Paul stole George's line. He fucking stole his line!

"A-and you look just as lovely as ever!" George added to one-up his friend.

You put a hand to your heart. "You boys make my heart sing." George took pride in your words despite them partially being for Paul as well.

"We need to see each other more, yeah?" George never expected his question to really get him anywhere, but he was wrong.

"Why not tonight? I don't have any homework and my parents are leaving town 'round five for the weekend to visit my auntie and uncle."

George's answer came quick, and effortlessly. "I'll be 'round for six. Sound good?"

"Perfect! I'll see you tonight then." You waved to the boys again, and then went back to watering the garden after bidding farewell.

The rest of the walk home was just Paul making fun of how lovestruck George was with you, and by the time they got to his house, just down the road from yours, Paul looked over at his buddy and smiled.

"No wonder you value your time with your darlin' over there so much, Magpie. Looks like she would definitely be a fine birdie in bed."

George looked over at Paul, eyes wide, and his voice broke. "... What?!" The thought of going to bed with you never crossed his mind-- well, until that moment.

"Hey, her folks'll be gone by the time you go over! You can make your move then! It's perfect!" Paul's words laced with excitement made George feel panicked, and the boy shook his head worriedly after a moment. "M-maybe it's not the best idea to go tonight..."

"Why not? All you ever wanna do is be alone with her!" Paul set a hand on the other boy's shoulder when he didn't answer. "What's up, George?"

"Paul, I've never even kissed her. She doesn't even know I like her like that! What if she likes someone else?! What do I even do?!" Paul was the biggest heartbreaker George knew. He'd had like... ten girlfriends since they met, and he kissed a whole three of them. They didn't last long, much like the fate of other young relationships, but George took Paul's advice as serious guidance; he needed to in a time like this.

"You just need to be calm. Take some deep breaths. You'll know what to do when the time comes. I know you will."

That night, George had many opportunities to dive in for a kiss, or mention his feelings for you; some of those opportunities he even believed you encouraged, but he didn't budge out of utter fear of rejection. George knew for a fact that Paul was going to facepalm when he asks him for details on the visit to your place.

Instead, the night only consisted of talking, and the only contact you made were a couple of hugs and a kiss on the cheek (which left George a stumbling mess again), though you did agree to spend more time together, which is how your friendship lasted so long.

He was so close to having you, and because he was too scared to make the move Paul (and maybe you) were encouraging him to make so long ago, you slipped through his fingers; and since, the thought of not being able to have you that way never left his mind.

Especially not when you were now a gorgeous young lady, blindly torturing poor George, who beat himself up every day because he lost his chance.

You were like a piece of artwork to George. You could be loved, admired, and looked at by him, but he could never hold you or touch you.

And George hated that.

George wanted you to be his girl.

And you were his girl-- well, in a twisted way. You were always with him, smiling and laughing about nothing and everything, holding onto each other in your darkest nights and guiding one another through personal struggles...

But when other boys started to want you too, George wanted to make it a point to keep the majority of them away.

Some didn't heed George's threats and went on to pursue you anyways, only to be turned down on your front steps by yourself. George never understood why you never reciprocated anybody's feelings, but it's not like he was verbally complaining.

And that's what lead up to tonight. George had wanted you for so long, and the sudden knowledge of a blind date had him in shock, especially since this was your very first time giving in and agreeing to go.

It killed him to know some rando was going to appear out of thin air to whisk you away, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and eventually put his hands on you, thinking his love for you is stronger than any other despite knowing absolutely nothing about how you should be loved, and treated...

But George hid his fury from you because you were excited about this date.

And he would do anything for you.

George's rage-inducing, mind-racing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut from behind him. He turned his head, heart in his throat, and you stepped into the room.

You wore a lovely high-waisted navy dress, and a pair of black flats. Your hair was half down, the rest coming together at the back of your head by a matching clip-on bow.

As expected, your makeup was quite noticeable. The burgundy colour of your lips and dark brown eyeshadow had George's head spinning, and he couldn't resist ogling at the way that dress fit you so well...

"So… How do I look? Like, if we were about to go on a date..."

A date? Us? We?!

George's palms began to sweat, and his heart did somersaults. If only.

It was only then that he realized his mouth was hanging slightly ajar, and after snapping it shut, he swallowed in embarrassment, not daring to look anywhere but your eyes again in fear of falling victim to your appearance again.

Imagine not being able to trust your eyes?

"... What would you think?"

George squeaked, his lips moving hesitantly though he didn't make a sound. His face was surely an embarrassing shade of red, and the longer he waited into answer, the more anticipated you looked for a response.

George rose to his feet and approached you, bravely deciding to give you another good onceover after a deep breath, though he kind of lost all sense of feeling in his legs when you smiled at him with that perfect mouth of yours...

"Wow." George sighed, eyelids falling heavy over his brown irises as he admired you.

"I just... you... wow, Y/n." He couldn't come up with a coherent sentence with the way you were staring at him like that.

God, he was absolutely smitten with you.

Your eyes shone joyously as you placed your hand on your heart, and George, as impossible to him as it seemed, fell so much more in love with you than he was just moments before. Your presence rendered him speechless, and the thought inflated your ego a lot more than you would have expected it to.

George remained silent, but his gaze was still glued to you. He'd looked at you for long enough in his life to probably draw you perfectly by memory, but he still took his time to drink in what he was given; because who knew if he'd ever be able to see more of you than this?

"I... I'm-- I'm speechless, is what I am." He cleared his throat after a moment and said, "I... honestly hope my eyes are doing all the talking for me."

"Aw, you're just a sweetiepie, aren't you?"

You beamed at George, blushing as you took another step toward him. "Well Georgie... if you keep looking at me and sweet-talking the way you are..." your warm words were carefully chosen, and it was obvious that George was hanging into every single word you were saying.

"I may just have to pass on this date and spend tonight with you." Your eyelids fell heavy over your eyes, and you offered George a smile that was suggesting something maybe not so innocent.

"Wh-what?!"

"... I said I'm ready to go." You raised your eyebrow in a little confusion at George's flustered state.

Oh my fucking God she didn't even say that?!

Idiot.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

"... R-right, yes, of course." George shook his head as if to rid his brain of the idea of tricking him like that again. He offered his arm out to you, and you linked yours with his before walking to the door together.

You passed a mirror on the way out, and George caught a glimpse of the both of your reflections, and his chest felt like it was on fire.

He looked so happy to be with you in that moment.

And you looked so happy to be leaving to spend time with another man.

George just hoped at least the reflection of him and you were going on this date together, and both of those smiles were meant for each other.

George pulled up to whatever restaurant this guy wanted to meet you at, which was on the other side of town. George did not approve of this and even reminded you of this on the way there, though you insisted you'd be fine, like you had the couple of times he mentioned this before.

You looked at him after he threw his car into park, and he gave you a little smile after a moment, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You do look beautiful, Y/n. This guy... he's very lucky."

"I... I don't know what to say."

"Say you believe me."

You didn't say anything. Instead, you smiled sadly, and leaned in to kiss George's cheek. His skin darkened to pink beneath your lips before you could pull away and leave the car with another goodbye, though his ears were ringing and he missed your final farewell.

She doesn't believe me...

George waited until he saw you were seated in the restaurant to put his car back into drive, but something kept him from lifting his foot off the brake. He watched you adjust your silverware at your table, and clasp your hands together in wait.

... Maybe George wanted to wait for this guy to show up.

But would he really want to kill himself by spying on you and watching you fall for someone who wasn't him over the course of one night?

That was the question that made him decide to look back, and pull out of his parking space before he could spot anyone even go near the building. He was in drive and speeding home moments later.

The car ride back to his flat was a quiet one. George kept the radio off, and his fingers drummed against the steering wheel the whole time as if he were almost impatient to get home and do nothing.

Every time he looked in the rear view mirror and saw his eyes stare back at him, it just reminded him that his reflection left that restaurant alone and just as disappointed as his real counterpart.

It wasn't long before George pulled into his building's parking space and sulked out of his car, slamming the door shut. His eyes and nose were burning from the assault of unfallen tears.

He dropped you off to meet this guy. This was all on him this time.

George loved you. He loved you with all his heart, enough to swallow his pride-- sacrifice his happiness for your own.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, dropping you off that night felt like he was letting you go.

And was he?

He pretty much stumbled through the door because his fucks to give for himself were pretty much nonexistent at this point. He kicked his shoes off, not caring if he scuffed up the wall with black marks.

He just wanted to have a long hot shower, crawl into bed, and hide from everyone.

And that's just what he did.

His shower was well over an hour long, and that's where he broke down and cried for the majority of the time. He cried about you, and the situation his own decisions put himself in. He cried in jealousy for the threat sweeping you off your feet right now, and he cried as if that was the last night he'd ever see you again.

When he got out of the shower, well after the stream went cold, he had no more tears to shed. He was dehydrated, and he felt broken. He did a half-assed job of drying himself off before leaving the bathroom and collapsing into bed, only a towel secured around his hips.

His face was pressed into his pillow, and he tucked his arms beneath it and submerged himself even further into the soft fabric.

He recently switched detergent to whichever one you regularly used, and he just took in the familiar scent; anything to make him feel more at home without you actually being present...

George had no idea how long he was in that position for, but he fell asleep like that, only to wake to the sound of the phone ringing.

He got up and stumbled out of his room to ease the obnoxiously loud phone by picking up the call, shouting, and hanging up on whoever decided to phone at this hour-- whichever hour it was.

"Yeah," George rasped through the receiver, his tone laced with underlying irritation. He just wanted to be left alone in his sadness.

"George..."

"... Y/n?" He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the palm of his hand before you spoke, but your voice made him freeze.

"Oh Georgie..." your voice was breaking over the phone, and he could tell it wasn't the connection.

"Y/n, my Love, what's the matter?!"

"George he... He didn't show." George's heart stopped.

He didn't show.

George's grip closed tighter and tighter on the phone receiver, and he could feel the pure rage bubbling in his chest, and the plastic receiver crackling from the force under his fingers.

"Where are you?" He demanded. "I'm coming right now to get you," George was about to start throwing his shoes on, despite wearing absolutely nothing to start off with, his towel discarded and still on the bed from when he passed out.

"The same place you dropped me off."

God dammit, this fucking guy had you go to the other side of town just to be forgotten about.

It was finally settled: if George ever found out who this guy was, he'd kill him for doing this to you.

"Don't move. Be there in five." As soon as George hung up the phone, he took off to his room. He was ready in record time: under a minute. Up until the day he died, George wouldn't have been able to dress as quick as he did that night, and he never knew how he did it.

What really mattered was that George got to the other side of town in about five minutes, as he said over the phone.

George whipped into the parking lot and got out of the car. He hurried over to the front of the building to go in and search for you, but he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the curb as he grabbed the door handle.

His grip eased on the lockset, and he slowly turned to you. You were facing away from him, arms folded as you tried to shield yourself from the cool evening wind. You had no clue he was even behind you.

George sighed gently, shedding his jacket off and placing it on your shoulders without another word. He could see your whole body relax from the weighted piece of clothing, and he wondered if his scent was comforting for you too, as it was vice versa.

George heard you breathe out, but you sniffled afterwards. It broke his heart to see you like this. George looked around to see if anyone was watching, because if there was a chance this guy was cackling away in a parked car at the sight of you in tears, George would have had no problem kicking his headlights in and slashing his tires.

He dropped to the curb and sat down right next to you, not hesitating to circle his arm around your body.

At his touch, you curled yourself into a ball, and George scooped you up to squeeze you tight. And against his chest, when you knew you were safe from all harm, you gently sobbed.

George let you cry it all out, and the tighter you held onto him, the tighter he held onto you.

"Am I just unlovable George...? Is that it?" Your words were quiet and muffled, but George heard every syllable you mustered.

He pulled away from your embrace to look you in the eyes, and his grip on your arms were firm, but not tight. "Now Y/n, you do not for one second even think you're unlovable. That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." His eyebrows were lowered in anger at the very idea of you feeling unloved.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, and George's expression softened. He reached his hand up to your face, and he could feel you shaking. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow again.

George wished then more than ever that he was the one who was supposed to see you. He would have shown up.

"Y/n, you deserve so much better than this. If you were mine, I’d make sure sitting alone on the curb, stood up, would be the last place you'd ever find yourself, especially when you were so excited to go out..."

George didn't know where his little spurt of confidence came from, but he was more focused on the words he was choosing to use with you, and what he was all going to say.

"... If I were yours...?" You sniffled again, cheeks and the tip of your nose turning pink and George paused at the sudden realization.

You still had a chance to be his.

And all because that boy didn't show up, he still had time to figure out how he could pull it all off; but it had to be tonight.

He took a deep breath.

"I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you. I just... I sometimes wonder why you were never mine. Why you're not mine..." his voice lowered throughout the sentence, and the end of his confession was barely above a whisper.

You watched George for a moment, lips parted, as if you couldn't believe your ears, and the young man panicked a little, deciding to disregard his last words before it suddenly became the topic of discussion.

"Oh, my Love," George's eyes suddenly saddened as he reached out to wipe away your fresh tears and smeared makeup with his thumb. Your bottom lip trembled at the contact, and he sighed.

"Just because he didn't show up doesn't mean your evening has gone to waste." He stood up and turned to look down at you.

"The night is still young." He then held his hand out in front of you, and you looked at it for a moment as if you didn't know what he wanted from you.

"Y/n... give me one night. Let me show you how a man should always treat you."

He wasn't quite sure if he just unintentionally asked you on a real life date, or if you thought of all this as an act, but even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, it gave George the chance of a lifetime to at least pretend you were his, even if this opportunity only lasted one night.

"Please."

You didn't move at first, but George was patient. You eventually slowly reached your hand out, and George helped you up, not making the effort to let go of you afterwards.

George looked up at the restaurant, and did a double take. "... You... you don't even like fancy places like this, am I wrong?" All you could think about when looking at him was that he knew you so well.

"A place like this on a first date is a clear sign he'd leave halfway through and I'd be stuck with the bill." George smiled a little, and so did you.

You wiped your final stray tear from your cheek and George gave your other hand a squeeze. "... I'd rather get a burger and go for a walk, to be honest."

"Then that's what we'll do," George confirmed with a nod. It was settled, then.

George and you strolled to the car, still hand-in-hand, and he courteously opened your door to help you in. He ran over to the other side afterwards and climbed in behind the wheel before pulling out and taking off to find somewhere for you both to eat.

You both came across this quiet burger place downtown, and the both of you were able to get a booth in the back for privacy so you could both scarf down your meals in peace.

George ordered the same food you did, and you both settled on sharing a milkshake together (a single milkshake eventually became two).

"God," you looked around the nearly empty joint before turning your gaze back to George. "Do you know how much more comfortable I feel in here?"

"Even when you're dressed like you belong in a dress shop window?" George smiled around his straw and you matched his grin. "Shut up. At least my hair is brushed out."

The poor guy had no clue until now that he forgot to comb his hair out after his depression shower, embarrassingly clawing his fingers through his locks to at least tidy up the mess on his head.

You just laughed out that you were teasing him, and the joyous hiccups from your laughter had George briefly forgetting everything negative that had happened so far that night.

After settling down a little, your food was brought out and you both started eating.

There wasn't much for the both of you to talk about other than the part of your day when you weren't together, and it wasn't like George wanted to mention what happened to him in the last two hours or make you upset by talking about your night.

Instead you both settled on joking about old times. Before the both of you knew it, George had you giggling and smiling once again before your dessert even came, and when the waitress came around to your table with your two-person cookie skillet, you grinned even wider.

You thanked the waitress before she went on her way, and you looked up across the treat to George, whom you were half expecting to be drooling over the cookie. Instead, he was in a dream-like trance, soft gaze fixed on you, and only you. You weren't too sure if he even knew the skillet was in front of him, he was so distracted.

"George...?" You called to him gently as to not frighten him when coming back down to reality. His response was almost immediate, like he could hear you.

And maybe he did.

"... I'm sorry, I don't know how many times I've tried to say this already tonight but have chickened out, but you look just..." George was examining every inch of you that he could see and you blushed, casting your eyes down to the table.

"Angel, look at me." George reached over the table and rested his hand over yours. You lifted your head to look him in the eye, and he hesitated for a moment. Your full attention flustered him, then again it always did, but he took a deep breath.

"You look heavenly, Y/n."

You said nothing. This time, he had you speechless, but nothing wasn't the response he was looking for.

"Dontcha believe me...?" His question echoed through your brain, and you blinked. George scanned your eyes after giving your hand a squeeze. He knew you had something to say, and he was at the edge of his seat in anticipation for your words.

"... Do you really think so?"

"Are you kidding me?! Y/n, I... when you came out of your room tonight I just... looking at you right now, I'm at a loss for words. Heavenly doesn't even scratch the surface. No word exists that perfectly describes how you look to me. Now, or ever."

There was yet another spurt of confidence that washed over George. He had a feeling his words and actions were getting the both of you somewhere, especially when his final sentence had you blushing the way you were.

At least he knew he was doing something right.

George's grip on your hand tightened a little, and he flipped your hands over so your palm was face-up in his. He brought your hand closer to him, and he kissed your fingertips before leaving a final one at the centre of your palm. His eyes never left your red face as he did this, and he grinned against your hand when you offered him a shy smile.

Oh... she IS actually liking this.

When he pulled away, George looked down at the still-untouched dessert, and he smiled, releasing another nervous breath he was holding as he finally let go of your hand. "Let's finish up so we can go on our walk. Sound good, my Love?"

You only nodded before digging in with him, every nudge of his hand against yours reducing you to a blushing mess, and George, who was gaining more confidence as every second passed, would just smile to himself knowing he was successfully turning the tables on you.

But it wasn't yet the time to give in and confess, as much as George wanted to. He still had a nice long walk to woo you on, and then he had to do the important step of walking you to your apartment door at the end of the night, and God knows that was the part he was dying to get to.

You finished your dessert not long after and George payed the bill. After helping you out of the booth, you'd left hand-in-hand again.

The both of you stepped out into the cool night and you looked up at George. "Are you cold? Did you want your jacket back?"

You were holding it in your other hand since you'd taken it off at dinner, and you shoved it in his direction without another word.

He laughed and took the jacket from you, unfolding it and pulling it back around your shoulders before rubbing his hands up and down your arms to keep you warm.

"You'll catch a cold without it. Besides, you look better in it anyways." He leaned in and kissed your cheek, smiling proudly to himself when he pulled away and continued to lead you to the car, deciding it'd be smoother to not turn around and gauge for a reaction from you.

Like before, George courteously opened the car door for you, and closed it when you were in. Their destination was his place. It wasn't for the reason one would think, but the idea of driving you to his home and inviting you in with every intention of walking right past the kettle made George's legs restless.

In reality there was a park down the road from his flat that cut pretty much directly to your own humble abode. You'd walked the trail hundreds of times together to look at the pretty flowers growing in the garden, but something told George that this time, like everything else happening that day, was going to be very different.

When you pulled up to his building he raced you to get to your door for the second time of the night; the first being at the burger place when you first arrived. He took your hand and helped you out of the car, and he didn't let go, even after locking the doors to his car and leading you both down the road.

There was a silence that fell between the both of you. It wasn't bad. You took this time to think about your night, as did George. With every step down the road and into the park you took, the smile on your face only grew wider. As for George, he began to sweat with every step he took.

Every foot forward led him closer and closer to your door, where he was going to finally let everything off his chest and confess to you. The problem was that George's confidence was quickly draining, and this was something he needed to do.

He eventually let go of your hand to wipe his palms off on his pant leg, and at the immediate loss of contact, you were turning to him with a confused look on your face.

"Sorry uh..." he breathed out slowly, cheeks dusted pink. "I-I don't know why, but I'm kinda nervous."

Your look of confusion faded into an unreadable one. "Was it holding my hand?"

George shook his head. "No no, not that, I want to hold your hand."

"So what's the problem?"

He just shook his head again. "Maybe it's just... the stress of making sure tonight is perfect for you."

"What?!" Your reaction was sudden, and George's eyebrows were raised high up on his forehead at your exclamation.

"George, tonight has already been perfect for me! I had a great meal, I'm on a lovely walk with you..." you reached out to take his hand again, and he lifted his gaze from his shoes to look you in the eye. You smiled up at him from under the streetlight, and George smiled back a little.

"Georgie, I would never have asked for a better night." You squeezed his fingers with yours and tugged him forward gently. "C'mon, Magpie. Let's get home. It'll be cooling down soon, and I don't want you walking outside much longer than needed tonight."

George followed behind, but you still took your time coming home since the both of you got caught up in another conversation. This time, it was about the flowers you were passing in the park.

"... I used to water those for you, y'know." He pointed to a cluster of marigolds. To think that was ten years earlier and they still stayed put, growing outwards and stronger than ever.

"I used to check on them every day to make sure they weren't dying. You told me one time you really liked those flowers and I just..." he smiled a little at the memory. "I just couldn't get enough of your smile every time you saw them."

You turned to look up at him. You had absolutely no clue he did that for you. It made you love the flowers even more, and your heart jumped a little when you realized that the marigolds were the very reason George insisted you both took the trail all the tine.

"I'll still come across them when passing flower shops. I always think of you when I see them."

"Wow. George, I... I never knew you paid that much attention to me."

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend."

And George didn't say anything after that, especially when you didn't respond to his last comment, which he didn't even mean to say.

By the time George could think up a sentence to save himself from friend-zoning the both of you right then and there, he felt like he'd left it for too long.

His heart was sinking, and he tried to shake off the comment best he could, and walked you the rest of the way home.

His stomach was in a knot as he looked up at your apartment building. The front door to the lobby looked intimidating, and his palms began to sweat again. You slipped your hand out of George's, and it distracted him from his racing thoughts.

"You think I'm gonna just leave you here?" His question was sudden, and you blinked once.

"I'm sorry?" You looked from George, to the apartment door which was ten feet away from the both of you. "But George, I'm home?"

"I have to walk you to your door." You laughed at his response, head thrown back as you sighed. "You mean to tell me you, George Harrison, are gonna walk up five flights of stairs in the next two minutes just to make sure you can hear me lock my door and know I'm safe?"

"Would it be a real date if I didn't?"

There was another beat of silence as George watched your eyes shift from left to right in thought. You pursed your lips a little, and then looked him in the eye.

"... Suppose it wouldn't be then, no."

"Then may I walk you to your door, Y/n?"

You finally answered him with a simple nod of your head, and George reached out to take your hand again. He wordlessly led you to the door which he opened for you, and then brought you to the flight of stairs. Nowhere else to go but up.

In about two minutes, you and George got to the fifth floor. As soon as he entered the hall, it felt like the walls were slowly closing together as you both took quiet, careful steps towards the end of the way.

The entire time, your hands were glued together, and no one let go, even when you were both finally stopped, and standing in front of your door.

"I'm sorry about tonight, Y/n. I know you were saying earlier tonight turned out perfect and everything but..." George's brain was still on that platonic comment he made on the walk.

"George, there is no one I would have rather spent tonight with than you. No one."

George squeezed your hand, and then sighed. "I just wish tonight happened under different circumstances."

"Different circumstances?" You repeated a little confused, and the boy in front of you pursed his lips and nodded his head.

Deep breaths. Here it goes.

"Y/n, ever since I found out about this date, my blood has just been boiling with jealousy for that boy. Hell, I still don't even know his name and I could tell you he isn't good for you."

You looked taken aback. Jealousy was definitely not where you thought he was going with all of this.

"I fell in love with you, Y/n. Years ago. And because I feared rejection, I didn't want to take my chances and say anything. But the truth of the matter is that I'd be the happiest person alive just to be able to love you openly. I can't stand to see you cry the way he made you tonight."

Again, you stood there, no words coming to mind to respond with. Your silence didn't make George stop.

"To think for years my feelings for you haven't gone away. I've always thought you felt the same, yet you were never mine." George paused. "When can this boy get you back again, Y/n?"

There was a long silence, his eyes searching yours for your answer, and you were staring up at him like a deer in headlights.

"I-- if I'd known-- I never thought-- George, I had no clue." He could see the lost look on your face, and it made his heart ache, especially when your lip began to tremble and your eyes started filling to the brim with tears.

"Why do you think I turned down every guy who's tried to get with me? I just... I never thought you'd love me back, Georgie." His emotions sank into a deep dark guilt. All this time, and you felt the same way about him...

And then he blinked.

You feel the same way about him!

George reached out to you, his hand cupping the side of your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your tears began to fall, and he pulled you into his chest tightly for a moment. "My Love," he mumbled, pulling away just far enough for him to see your face again.

"Oh, even when you're crying, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on..." There was a beat of nothing; just the sound of shallow breaths shared between the both of you before George began to inch in slowly towards you.

"... George, what are you doing...?" Your question was gentle, and you didn't stop him from coming any closer. You didn't want to stop him.

"Something I should've done a long time ago."

His attention fixated to your mouth once before your lips finally clashed together.

For over a decade, George had waited for the moment he tasted your lips; and now that it was here, he was almost scared he wouldn't know what to do.

The both of you were holding your breath since you both felt a little unsure at first, but it was a given, he was kissing his childhood best friend, and you were, too. You kissed back a little, and George exhaled lightly through his nose, a little relieved knowing you were getting a little more comfortable with the situation.

George's hands fell to your waist, fingers curling around your body as he eventually pulled you even closer. You parted your lips a little, and he bit down on your bottom lip, pulling away after hearing you gasp.

"Oh! Did I hurt you? I'm--" George could barely rush an apology out before you pulled him down to kiss him again, and pushing him backwards until his back was flat against your door. He watched as you closed the space between you again, and your lips were on his again.

His heart was pounding, ears ringing loudly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, and all the boy could remember thinking about was how blissful it all was in that moment. George threw his arms around you and started pushing back just a little.

You pulled away from him to gasp in a breath, George's hands grabbing your arms and pinning you against your door so he could put you in the place he was moments before; to give you the moment to experience just a fraction of all the love he would be able to eventually give to you.

His lips briefly found the crook of your neck and you moaned quietly as George sucked at your skin a little, which only resulted in him pulling away just to lean back in to kiss your lips and swallow your pleasant hums.

You eventually pulled away to face him again, lips swelled and pink, and breaths quick. You never thought you'd have so much trouble breathing while kissing someone.

Then again, it's not everyday that the man you're kissing is George Harrison.

"I know it's rare to ask this on a first date but..." George leaned down to attach his lips to the column of your throat, and he hummed against your skin when you moaned gently, delaying your question for a moment.

"... Did you maybe wanna, I don't know, come in, stick around for some tea?"

"Is that even a question?" George asked lowly against your neck, and you smiled. You reached into your purse to retrieve your apartment keys, which you blindly stuck into the keyhole since George was back to kissing you again, and the both of you stumbled through the door as soon as you got it open.

You and George kicked your shoes off after shutting the door, and you pushed him up against the wall in the front corridor to kiss him once again.

Ten years was way too long for the both of you to be deprived of one another any further, and George gladly let you migrate your lips to his neck after a moment, tilting his head back for you to make things a little easier.

With your head buried into his neck and your arms circled around one another, George lazily opened this eyes to watch himself in that same mirror across the hall he looked into a few hours prior.

All the boy could do was smile to himself, breathing heavily as he watched your reflection switch to the other side of his neck after leaving a mark on the right side of his throat.

Not only was his reflection successful in this date tonight, but George himself pulled off the biggest risk he could imagine and it paid off.

He finally got the girl of his dreams.

----------------------------------------

A/A/N: honestly, this fic lives rent free in my head and it has been since I wrote it, so I gotta show it off to y'all. Again, I know it was long, but I really hope you enjoy it <3

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@rogermeddow

(message me if you want to be added to any of my oneshot/queen/beatles/chapter taglists)

#the beatles #john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison #george harrison x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #paul mccharmly

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thesmutbasement · 3 years

Text

Welcome to The Smut Gallery: where our favorite Pedro-verse fan art lives forever!

Everything here in The Smut Basement is for 18+ friends only! Minors and unverified persons will be blocked. Please heed ALL warnings when you click a link.

No character specified

@enstatia drew this gorgeous Priest inspired by the 2021 BAFTA outfit, and it inspired a hot fic, which inspired us to finally make a new section of TSB just for Priest fics. Art can change the world, people!

Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels (Kingsman 2: The Golden Circle)

@ronnieiswriting drew an Assless Whiskey at a rodeo and I can’t stop staring at it. The lasso, thank you very much. Not the—okay yes. I’m admiring the ass.

Dave York (Equalizer 2)

Din Djarin/Mando (The Mandalorian)

@frying-panties draws some REAL HOT "dad-bod Din" and we are here for it!!!

@honestly-shite drew Boxer Din from @djarinsbeskar's very hot AU fic series

@moodsworks drew this HOT Hunter/Prey where you get chased like a bounty and I’ve never wanted to be hunted down more if this is what I get from that sexy tin can.

@thepoisonofgod drew this In Blues piece and it deserves all the *chef’s kisses*. I can’t stop thinking about how sculpted that back is and what lies beneath that towel…

@thepoisonofgod also drew this The Way To Trust and the way I trust anything she creates will make me feel things. All I can say about this one and I’m sure most will agree is: T H I G H S

@asta-lily drew this Leaky Pipe, Mesh’la? and I can only dream that I end up on his to-do list twice. I’ve never wished rags didn’t exist until now.

@asta-lily also drew Cockpit which happens to be my personal favorite. What a coincidence. He’s straddling the cockpit chair and I want to straddle him in the cockpit chair.

@thepoisonofgod also drew this magnificent creature inspired by Warmth of You by @ezrasbirdie and I want to trace all his tattoos for days just for the sake of research. Of course.

@dindaddy created this and it has lived in my brain since I first saw it all that time ago. I definitely DM’d Claire about this one when I discovered it.

@literallydontlook drew a HOT Boxer!Din that was inspired by Counterstrike by @djarinsbeskar and reader is living my straddling while he’s benching dream right now.

@lellowberry created this beautifully hot piece and please, all I want in my life is to be called Mesh’la while Din rails into me. Is that too much to ask?

@blackdogdesignuk created this HOT Din x Twi’lek piece and all I can say is I am available for purchase if he requests it though I feel like I’d be getting the bigger end of that deal.

@lellowberry created this Din x OC and ya’ll I am having some serious fingering envy right now. This is absolutely filthy. Five smut stars.

@dreadfulvee drew this Din x OC sexy lounging piece and I’m having some serious envy because I would kill to sit in that lap. Unfortunately, that seat is taken but I call dibs on the next one.

@lellowberry drew this soft filth creation and I am having very soft but also raging horny feelings for their Din.

@moskaisley drew this two for the price of one hot Din piece and I’m with him on this one. Serious blushing going on at TSB.

@lellowberry created this Din Having Alone Time piece and I am having some major wish I was there feelings because I’d love to be of assistance or just a fly on the wall for that moment.

@ronnieiswriting created this so soft I almost feel like I should leave the room piece but also the sweet tension is making me feel all the feels.

@lellowberry created this extremely filthy piece and all I yearn for in this life is to be railed in public against a wall, storm trooper and brick burn be damned.

@moodsworks drew this pegging, yes sound the alarm and release the fireworks, filthy Din piece and I have looked at it way too many times to admit. Just know, it is a lot.

@lellowberry created this Din x OC filthy piece and all I can say is I love a good hands on experience but especially one that is as rewarding as Din felt in this one.

@lellowberry created this shirtless Mando piece and I can’t stop staring at how broad he is even without the armor. I am drooling!!

@lellowberry also drew this Armorer x Din piece and guys….it is making me feral and flush majorly. I may need to invest in a fan after this one.

@intricatecakes created this Tattooed!Din piece and I would like to volunteer as the artist to tattoo him for all future works even though I don’t have any talent to do so. I just require pants off, thank you.

@dindaddy created this sexy Din x Reader piece and I would like to be carried just like that and maybe make a pit stop on the cockpit chair.

@literallydontlook created this Boxer!Din inspired by @djarinsbeskar Foul fic and the foul thoughts that came through my brain after seeing this shouldn’t be spoken aloud. Just know I am eyeing that hand on the throat with a magnifying glass.

@dreadfulvee drew this beautiful Din x OC sketch and let me just go ahead and speak for everyone else that I very much would kill to be in that same position and feel that same intensity that she feels. I know it’s not just me.

@literallydontlook drew this amazeballs Din rooftop pool scene based on "Silk" by @juletheghoul (Ummmm... B? This is the third time Lauren @javierpinme and I have parked your work in The Smut Basement Gallery... can we talk about adding you to like a Hall of Fame or something? You're just that good! -Claire)

Ezra (Prospect)

@lellowberry created this beautiful Cyborg!Ezra for their Solisequious series and look at those dimples on her thigh from him gripping while railing into her because I can’t seem to look away.

Frankie “Catfish” Morales (Triple Frontier)

@3frontier drew Date Night with Frankie and look at those tan lines!! We love a shirtless Frankie moment here.

@shite-art drew Frankie The Pussy Eating King and I actually yelped out loud when I saw this. My jaw was on the floor and it was a whole mess. Maia helped pick up the pieces, but I’m still not completely together after witnessing this.

Javier Peña (Narcos)

@patternedlantern drew a charming Javier Peña in period-accurate cropped sweatshirt top and tiny gym shorts, based on this thot by @thosewickedlovelies and I am HERE for it! -Claire

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

Marcus Pike (The Mentalist)

Oberyn Martell (Game of Thrones)

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

@lellowberry also created this piece that is based off of her fic All That Glitters and it just so happens to be of my favorite part in it. Other than you know, the smut. I’m a sucker for cuddling by a fire.

The Thief/El Ladrón (Casillero del Diablo wine commercial)

Bottom of the Basement: Filthy Fic Recs Masterlist

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sourholland · 3 years

Text

A Royal Convenience || Tom Holland

| Series Masterlist |

Part Seven

Summary → When an alliance is made between England and France, you are sent away to marry the crown prince and heir to the British throne. Except both you and Prince Thomas despise each other at all odds, subjected to the hand of the monarchy and unable to stand each other.

AN → So this chapter could potentially be a bit triggering for some people, it is pretty descriptive into the beheading of someone. I would like to preface this in saying that I do not support capital punishment, nor do I support the death penalty. This is merely a work of fiction, and I am only trying to bring to life history. Anyways, this chapter is something else. Let me know what you guys think, I’m sure you’ll have some thoughts.

Pairing(s) → Prince!Tom x Princess!Reader

Warnings → Angst, Beheading - Descriptive, Blood, Vomit - Descriptive, Light Smut, Choking Kink, Alcohol, Language, Intended Oral Sex - Female Receiving, Knife Play

Word Count → 4.5k

“I want to leave, please just let me go home,” you pleaded.

It was only you and Tom at the heart of the throne room. After the whole shooting ordeal, he’d rushed you back and demanded the audience of the King.

You were both waiting, still suffering from the shakes, you could only beg and pray that he would let you go. Tears stung the backs of your eyes, cheeks hot and feverish. Tom had sent all of the guards away, not caring that it wasn’t proper for you both to be alone without a chaperone.

“Please, Tom,” you almost whispered.

“You can’t go home, Y/N,” he replied simply, peering over at you from his spot parallel to where you stood.

“I was just shot at! What more could you people want to see in order to let me go home? I miss my mother, I wish to see my mother,” you shouted at him.

“I couldn’t let you go even if I wanted to.”

“But you do want to?”

Silence. Tom said nothing. He only straightened his posture a bit, looking away from you and back to the door. The King had still not come, there had been an attempted assassination and the King of England could not be bothered to grace his own son with his presence.

“This is why I told them to take you back to your chambers,” he murmured to himself.

“You can hardly look at me!” You marched up to him, taking a free hand and pressing it to his chest in anger and frustration. “Look at me, Thomas.”

His eyes slowly lifted from the ground to your eyes, your breath staggering from the rage and sudden proximity. There was an intimacy in the way you both seemed to get yourselves into these situations. It was a change for you to initiate something like this, especially since anyone could come through those large double doors at any point.

“Please,” you begged.

“You don’t get it do you?” He asked, eyes falling to the dip of your lips, parting at the curve of your Cupid’s bow. “You and I, we haven’t got a way out of this. It’s for life, Y/N. There is no running, not really. Don’t you think I’m tired? This life is exhausting, but it’s bigger than both of us. There’s no out, no going home. The sooner you accept that, the sooner this’ll all become a lot easier for you.”

“I hope you’re saying that when our heads, or God forbid, the heads of our children—”

The doors opened and King Dominic and his entourage came through, there was hardly any urgency in the way he walked. You and Tom quickly stepped away from each other, he stood taller, bowing as his father sat. You gave a quick and anxious curtsy.

“You’ve clearly been quite busy, I didn’t expect an act of high treason to pull you away from whatever important engagement you were wasting your time with,” Tom scowled.

“Do watch yourself, Thomas,” the King responded.

“Did you not hear about the man who attempted to put a bullet through my skull?” He question, tone raising.

“From what I’ve heard, the bullet was directed towards Princess Y/N, meaning this was hardly even an attack on the Crown.”

“She is the Crown! We’re to be wed in less than three weeks, she’s practically the Princess of Wales already!”

You stood in silence, wondering whether or not you should step in. Tom told you to go back to your wing of Buckingham Palace when you’d both come back, but you refused. He was shifting uncomfortably under his father’s intense gaze.

“Maybe so, but not yet. I’ll have the bastard’s head, hell, you can even watch if you’d like. I won’t cause an uproar within the country, this is far from the first attempted assassination of the Crown, nor will it be the last,” the King boomed.

“What if that bullet had landed between my eyes, my head blown apart within seconds? What would you have done then?” Tom asked him, brows furrowed.

“You have three brothers, one of which would probably do the job better than you,” he responded, coughing into the handkerchief he pulled from his pocket.

You took in a sharp breath, wondering how any decent person could say such a thing. Tom stiffened, his lips forming a fine line. There was something lacking between the two men, you hadn’t seen it before, but now it was clear as day. There was absolutely no love, no compassion. You were staring at a King and his successor.

“That’s an awful thing to say,” you finally said.

“Don’t, Y/N,” Tom leaned over to you.

King Dominic’s eyes scanned over you, eyes flickering from you to Tom. The room was almost silent, the ruffling of your dress pooling at your feet filling the air.

“You are quite a pretty little thing,” he mused. “Shame, you know? That you have no clue when to keep that mouth shut.”

“And why is that?” You asked him, stepping forward.

“If you hadn’t been brought here from France, I’m not sure you’d have been very popular among suitors.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t exist to cater to anyone’s domestic pursuits, isn’t it?”

Your gaze did not falter, King Dominic’s eyes piercing your own. He was dressed in fine satin, but this did not distract you from the fact that there were deep purple crescent shapes, littered in purple and indigo underneath his eyes. The King’s sallow skin was discolored against his sunken in eyes, and downturned mouth.

“She’ll bear witness to the beheading,” King Dominic remarked, pushing up against his throne to stand.

“What?” Tom asked very suddenly, stepping in front of his father. “She’s eighteen, practically a child! You cannot expect her to watch something like that!” He shouted, waiting for his father to let go of his pride.

“If she can stand before me—acting as if she is King, and not I, she can watch the man you ordered to die be executed.”

Tom went to argue, but was met with his father’s hand held high in his wake. He slumped back in defeat, sighing as the King turned in front of him. There was hardly anything you thought he could say, and nearly nothing he could do.

You let out a shaky breath, holding your abdomen with a free hand. There was nothing you wanted more than to be in your mother’s arms, or to sleep in your old bed. Yet, you stood in the throne room of Buckingham Palace, having just been shot at and conspired against.

“The Tower of London. Tomorrow.”

This was all he said, turning his back to both of you and walking off. Tom said nothing, not until a man came in after his father had left and leaned into his ear, an unreadable expression passing over his face.

“He was Danish?” He asked the unfamiliar man.

“Yes, sir. I am sure of it, it is all we were able to get out of him.”

“Leave us,” Tom motioned towards the door.

As the man left, he turned to you with a look as set as stone. He was upset, yet somber at the same time. Something about the way he was staring at you left the hairs at the nape of your neck standing up. You couldn’t help but step forward, feeling the need to steady yourself.

“Do you remember when the Prince from Denmark and I had a row?”

“I would hardly classify that as a row, you are still battered from hitting him so hard. When I saw him today, his face looked worse than it had that night,” you said.

“Y/N, you have no reason to listen to me, or to trust anything I say, but please heed my words, do not engage with Nikolai again. I cannot stress—”

“Is this what you do now? Tell me whom I can and cannot see. I have nothing, Tom! My life has been seized from me, and now I cannot even dictate who I see?”

Tom’s hand just barely brushed your own, his head bent to look directly into your eyes. There was an urgency in them, something telling you that this was bigger than both of you. You remembered the way he had held you down when those shots were fired, and the way he held your hand.

“You’re right—about all of it. I am asking you, Y/N, not as the Prince of Wales, or even as Thomas. I’m asking you as your husband, as the man you have been dealt in the most unfortunate of circumstances. Please, just stay away from him until I can be sure of something. This is all I ask of you, and even then, I deserve nothing from you. So in this moment, right now, you and I are not the next King and Queen of England. We are simply a man and a woman, nothing else.”

His words came out pleadingly, his fingers curling around your wrist. The pad of his thumb dipped underneath your glove. The skin on skin contact made you shiver, wondering whether or not Tom was being serious in his words. Nonetheless, you nodded feverishly, feeling him let out a deep breath of relief.

The carriage ride and walk into the large and extremely ancient looking castle, seemed to blur together. You were dressed darkly, a short veil covering your face in an almost sheer material.

Tom was beside you, his hand lightly cupping your elbow as the both of you entered the large room at what felt like the heart of the Tower of London. Prince Harry and Prince Sam followed closely behind the both of you, the King in front.

Everyone parted as you all made your way through the crowd of Nobles. You learned that the man’s name was Sir Alfred, and his title was the reason he was to be executed in such a manner. It also contributed to the fact that his beheading was occurring in such a prestigious place. Many famous executions took place in the same location, you had heard of many of the people who had lost their heads in the same position.

At the front of the room there was a high block on top of a sort of wooden stage, an executioner standing off to the side with an axe in his right hand. You couldn’t fathom the idea of having to do what he was only minutes away from doing himself.

Tom looked like he wished to say something, but in the end stayed completely silent. You were all completely sectioned away from everyone else, standing to witness the man about to die for his crimes.

In he walked a moment later, he wore a baggy black tunic and a cross around his neck. His head was down, eyes on the floor. When he came through the archway and into the large room, you couldn’t help but feel a lurch in your stomach. He denied the man who asked if he wished to say anything before he placed his head at the high block.

You felt your hands begin to clam up, wringing them against your dress. The man stood in prayer for a moment, a single tear falling from his eye. He mouthed a few words and took his place, bringing to cross to his chapped lips, and placing a single kiss upon it.

“Help me, God.”

His words were enough to make you sick, watching as he bent forward on his knees. His head sat firmly on the block, the man holding the axe waiting patiently. Someone said something in the distance, but your ears were pounding.

The moment the blade raised, you fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. It came down in a thud, a loud noise coming from the mouth of the man. A splatter of blood came soon after, his head was still intact. The blade raised again, and it struck once more. This continued another time, until at last, Alfred’s limp body had fallen.

You tasted acid, biting your tongue as you pushed through the cluster of people and looked for any exit. There was a single stone passage leading to a bit of land outside, you had no clue how you had gotten there. In a fleeting moment, you felt yourself hunch over and begin to empty the contents of your stomach onto the ground.

You felt a pair of hands grasp at the bit of hair falling into your face as you heaved, holding your chest firmly. You willed yourself to stop, but bent once more. Your throat burned, tears prickling the backs of your eyes.

“Are you—”

“No, no—I am absolutely not alright,” you just barely got out. “I’ll be in the carriage.”

You spent both of the following days in your quarters, claiming ill to all of those who asked. Dinner had been brought to you each night, and every other meal left for you as well. You couldn’t decipher whether you were doing it out of spite, or pure hatred for the establishment you were marrying into in less than three weeks.

A small portion of it may have also been out of fear, the thought of even being out and about sent a shockwave up your spine. Every time someone rapped on your chamber door, you couldn’t help but flinch.

On the morning of the second day you’d isolated yourself, the Queen sent word that the ball she’d arranged was still to be attended. You couldn’t help but groan at the man she’d sent to deliver the message. You had absolutely no desire to make an appearance at a dance, especially after the past few days.

It was only hours later when Anne pushed through the double doors to your room, sending all of the other servants away in a simple hand motion. You furrowed your brows at her, holding onto the bedpost, corset left loose and undone. She looked as if she had seen a ghost, clutching the underside of her dress.

“Your grace,” she curtsied quickly.

“Anne, is everything alright?”

There was a pause, she brought a small brown bag out from under the cloth of her brown dress. She undid the clasp gently and pulled out a dagger, extending her hand to give it to you. With it came a sheath and what looked like two leather bound straps.

“I have reason to believe someone is dangerous, ma’am. I—well, I wanted to be sure you would be able to defend yourself, should something present itself tonight,” she said shakily.

“Oh, Anne. Where did you get this?” You asked, placing a hand on the blade.

“A stable boy offered it to me at a fair price, I just wanted to be sure you’d have some sort of defense. If you don’t want it—”

“No, no! I’m terribly grateful, I just haven’t a clue how to properly handle something like this.”

There had been very little swordplay taught when you were being instructed to be the ruler of a country, and even less as you grew into a young Princess. You handled horseback riding, language study, arithmetic, and learning the duties of a sovereign.

Anne took a few moments to show you how to hold the knife, and then flipped up your undergarments to have access to your thigh. She strapped the leather bindings to it gently, the sheath sticking to you as she slid in the dagger. You felt nervous, knowing you were armed underneath all of the layers. Yet, something about it made you feel safer.

A while later, she brought all of the servants back in and they began to dress you. By the time you had finished, you stared into the full length mirror at the entirety of the velvety looking gown. It was a deep red color, with a dipping neckline that left your shoulders and collarbones exposed underneath the candlelight.

You opted for a more bold choice in tiara, ditching your family heirloom and going for a fringed tiara that dated farther back than you could guess within the British royal family. It was littered in diamonds and went well with the dress, watching as the material swished at your feet.

“I must say, this is one of my favorite dresses you’ve worn so far,” one of the lady servants murmured.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Thomas of Wales,” announced a man, almost out of nowhere.

You watched as the doors opened, the guard member stiff and standing tall. Tom rolled his eyes, wishing his entrance had not just been broadcasted so generously. Though, he was far too used to it by now to say a thing. It really had been quite unnecessary, but it was clear that the young man was quite new.

“Princess,” he greeted.

You turned, meeting his eyes and watching as he swallowed hard, eyes dipping to the curve of your bosom, and curl of your gloved hands. He was dressed in his usual formal ball attire, blinking a few times and noticing the way you moved to sit.

A diamond necklace laid untouched, sitting prettily on your vanity. He sent a nod to each of the women crowding you, watching as they fled the room. You peered over your shoulder, almost immediately seeing him lift up the heavily studded jewel. It was cold against your bare skin, but his hands were warm as he fiddled with the clasp at the back of your neck.

You gazed into the mirror, watching his determined eyes work their way around your shoulders and spine. Just as you felt the necklace sit comfortably, his fingers lingered for a moment, the brush of a knuckle against the divot of the arch of your neck.

“There,” he said. “Now—we should probably be going.”

His words came out breathlessly, turning around quickly and looking away. You couldn’t help but let out the wisp of a breath yourself, feeling the heat flush to your face. The trace of his touch remained on your skin, the thud of your heart quickening as soon as you took his arm.

The short walk to the ballroom was mostly silent, only breaking when you would make a mindless comment, making him reply with a crude remark. You felt a pull in your gut, like you wanted to despise him more than anything. Most of the time you were together, that was all it was, disdain. Though, in passing moments, you couldn’t help letting your guard down.

These thoughts rapidly halted when you both entered the large familiar room. You both made your rounds, greeting the guests and embracing family, his family. Soon after, you watched Tom step to the side and reach for a bottle of what you could only guess was brandy.

“A dance?”

This was a phrase you heard dozens of times throughout the night, men after men swinging and swishing you around the floor. Some of which left you drowning in your own boredom, others capable of making you smile and laugh. There was no sign of Nikolai, this was odd to you.

Tom sat at the edge of the room, elbows sat on his knees while he drank himself to death. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, curls falling into his eyes. The most peculiar thing was the way he watched you, the way he would be able to speak and converse, yet still make sure to flicker his gaze back to you.

The dagger at your thigh made you feel a bit less helpless, like you had a bit of leverage. Though, the night quickly faded and everything was turning out to be incredibly mundane. Nothing was seemingly out of the ordinary, and when you took your out, a feeling of relief washed over you.

Your soft steps sounded as you made your way back to your chambers. It was easy for you to find the right moment to claim you were tired, and needed to retire to your bed for the night. Tom had left you for the entirety of the night, keeping to himself for the most part.

You grasped the brass handle, pulling it open to reveal a room full of servants meant to help you undress. You bid them all a goodnight and promised you could do it on your own, wishing to be alone. When the last of them departed, you lifted the tiara from your hair, unclasping the necklace and placing both of the priceless items on the wood of the table.

You heard the rattle of the door a second later, asking who was there. No response. You felt your pulse quicken, lifting up the skirts of your dress and pulling at the handle of the knife. You took a few paces backwards, jumping when you realized it was only Tom. His back faced you as he closed the door quietly, throwing his hands up when he turned to see you, dagger in hand.

“Y/N—put down the knife,” he said cautiously.

You hadn’t a clue why you were still holding it in a position like you planned to stab someone. The adrenaline, perhaps. Tom approached you slowly, making your head swim with thoughts. Some part of you was wondering why you hadn’t dropped your hand, and the other was telling you to stay just as you were. He was just as bad as any other man you’d encountered, wasn’t he?

“Give me the knife,” he held a hand out. “Just let me see it.”

“You’re drunk,” you muttered, smelling the alcohol on him.

“You truly do know how to sober a man up, though, don’t you?” He laughed.

There was something mocking about his words, like he knew you wouldn’t do anything. This set something off inside of you, that feeling in your chest only grew when you took the opportunity to step forward and act as if you were going to pass the dagger off to him. When he extended his palm, you pulled his wrist forward and did your best to slam his back against the nearest wall. Your right hand, firmly grasping the hilt of the blade, rapidly meeting his neck. You pressed it into his exposed skin, watching his pupils dilate.

“Feeling sober?” You asked, masking any bit of anxiety.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

You felt the beat of his heart through his shirt, pressing deeper. This earned a shocked wince, making you take in a deep breath yourself. His expression was surprisingly calm compared to your own, making it even more difficult to grasp when he flipped the both of you very out of the blue. His significantly larger hand had flawlessly brought the dagger from your white knuckled fingers, and into his own.

You felt the cold blade against your hot skin, his breath fanning over the sensitive spot below your ear. Your chest constricted, never having been this close to him before. You could smell the mix of brandy and whisky on him, wondering if he could sense how fast your heart was beating.

“Quick. Just not quick enough,” he teased lowly.

Something about this position made you almost melt, just now noticing how dry your mouth had become. Tom’s head turned to look into your eyes, making you practically jump. There was something so intimate in the way he was looking at you, something so personal.

“God, you truly have no clue about the things you do to me,” his drunken words seemed to spill out.

“Don’t I?” You asked, feeling his free fingers slide against the skin of your jaw. “You despise me, hate me even.”

“I wish I hated you.”

These were the last words spoken between the two of you before the space between both of you was filled. Firm, but warm lips were being pressed onto your own. With hardly a second to react, you felt your hand slide up the fabric of his clothed shoulder and to the nape of his neck. Your fingers threaded themselves into his hair, tugging harshly as he kissed you harder.

You arched your back against the hard surface you were pressed at, listening to the clatter of the knife against the floor in the night. His now freed hand found your neck, gently curling around it and squeezing. The euphoric feeling sent a wave of pleasure down your back, a single whimper passing between your conjoined lips.

“Tell me you hate me,” he whispered to you, breaking away for only a moment.

“I hate you,” you kissed him. “I hate you,” you kissed him again. “God, I hate you right now.”

One of his hands remained around your neck, the other sliding down to your waist and flipping you around. His nimble fingers played with the buttons at the back of your dress, pressing sloppy kissed against your neck and throat. Once the dress fell to your ankles, he pulled several layers over your head. Before you could even get to unlacing the corset, his heavily ringed hands twisted into it, ripping it straight down the back.

You were left in almost nothing, a thin article of clothing covering you. His hand brought itself to your breast, kneading at the almost completely exposed skin. You let out a repressed moan as he cupped the swelling of your chest.

“Is this okay?” He asked between wet kisses, trailing generously down your collarbone.

“Yes,” you hardly got out.

He nodded against you, lips brushing the skin above the neck of your underdress. It slid down, exposing the tops of your breasts. His head dipped, tongue trailing behind, leaving goosebumps along your feverish chest. He bit gently, leaving you to pant as you felt his hand slide up your calf and onto your thigh, he undid the holster, listening to it fall to the floor.

Before you could even truly think, you were being placed on top of one of the wooden surfaces of your bedroom. Tom was on his knees, pulling your ankle to him lips and pressing a kiss to the skin. This continued up to your knee, nearing closer and closer to your aching core. His touch was like fire, spreading through your whole body.

Movement outside of your chambers made you stiffen, Tom sat up immediately. The sound repeated itself and you were both scrambling to get away from each other. Your discarded clothes littered the floor, corset ripped down the middle. Tom was clearly disheveled, but mostly dressed. You began to realize the extent of what you both had done.

You grabbed at a few of the pieces of fabric, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. You both stared at each other for a moment, and without a word, Tom slipped out the door and into the night.

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screamin-abt-haikyuu · 3 years

Text

The Beast Within

An Asahi x fem! reader fic || Technically SFW but there’s sliiiightly suggestive content || Fluff at the end

Warnings: Violence, Anger, a veiled reference to sexual stuff?? idk what else to call it

Asahi was the kindest, sweetest, most gentle person you had ever known. Even though his ace persona took over whenever he played Volleyball, in real life he was the kind of person who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. You had been friends with him for about a year and you could have sworn up and down that you had never even seen him raise his voice at anyone.

So, it came as a complete shock to you when you heard a loud thump and a crack and you turned around to see Asahi standing over a fallen figure. His right hand was balled into a fist, and there was a look of pure, unadulterated anger on his face.

The figure, that looked like he might have been a college boy, was rolling on the ground with his hands covering his mouth, groaning in pain. Suga and Daichi ran to aid their friend and you watched in utter disbelief as Asahi lifted the man roughly by his collar and raised his fist, looking ready to strike again.

The whimpering boy, half-hanging in air, held up by his collar with Asahi towering over him and his bleeding nose, ready to strike again; the entire scene sent chills down your spine. Asahi looked like he had every intention of killing the boy in front of him and you finally realized what other people meant when they said Asahi was scary. You had never taken any heed to those words before because he had always been such a teddy bear but today, in this moment, you had goosebumps. And for the first time in your life, you were afraid of Asahi Azumane.

The terror must have been written all over your face because Asahi looked up at that moment, saw your face and his expression seemed to soften a little. His eyes still sparkled with rage but he lowered his fist. He loosened his hold on the person’s collar but instead of simply letting go, he pushed him into the ground as he stood up.

He stepped away from him and as he walked away, Suga opened his mouth to say something but he stopped him before he could get any words out. “Suga, not now, please. I need some space to clear my head and calm down for a bit.” Even though he said those words in a normal tone, there was a “no nonsense” air about it and Suga nodded meekly as Asahi walked away. You watched with your mouth half open as he walked past you, not meeting your eyes and his face as serious as it could get.

Suga and Daichi came up to you and so did Kiyoko after a few minutes.

Suga: W-What the hell?!?! W-What happened?

Daichi, staring with his eyes wide at Asahi’s retreating figure, was at a complete loss for words. “I have never seen him like this. Ever. Almost three years I have known him and I have never even seen him even talk to strangers without fumbling over his words, much less get violent-”

Who would have thought today would turn out to be like this? It was your last year in High School and you and your group of friends (Kiyoko, Asahi, Daichi and Suga) had all decided to take a weekend trip down to the beach together. Asahi had looked exceptionally hot today in his red Hawaiian shirt (which he had conveniently left open at the front) and his perfect abs had been quite a distraction for you as you tried to enjoy your time with your closest friends.

You had looked no less, though. With your maroon one-piece swimsuit with slits on the sides, showing off your waist and perfectly hugging your curves, you had looked absolutely smoking.

After a long day of frolicking in the water, splashing and chasing each other around and playing a lot of beach volleyball, you all had decided to relax and take a stroll through the beachside market. Kiyoko and Asahi had somehow gone ahead of the group while you strolled around lazily, idly chatting with Suga and Daichi. You had been browsing through a souvenir stall when the entire incident took place.

Which brings us back to the present.

“- I’m sure he must have had a good reason but for Asahi to do something like this???” Daichi said as he paced around.

It’s true. Even in your wildest dreams, you couldn’t have imagined Asahi like this.

“He deserved it,” Kiyoko said quietly.

All three heads turned to her instantly.

“You know what happened, Shimizu?” Suga asked.

She nodded.

“Tell us!”

“I- I’m not sure if he would want me to say,” Kiyoko replied. But as she said it, she was looking at you with a slightly troubled expression on her face.

“What’s that expression- why are you looking at me like that, Kiyoko?” you ask.

“It’s nothing-” Suga intervened, "It's obviously not nothing I mean this is Asahi we are talking about. It must have been something really serious for him to act like this. Please, Kiyoko. Tell us.”

Kiyoko sighed, “Well, I guess it’s not exactly a secret since that guy was really loud.”

“So, Asahi was shopping at that stall over there,” she said, turning around and pointing to the stall that was located right next to where the altercation took place, “and I was helping him choose something when these two college boys came by us.”

“They seemed really drunk and they were talking very loudly. The guy in the green shirt saw Y/N standing here with Suga and Daichi and he whistled. He thought he was far away from you so he could say whatever he wanted.

He started commenting on your body and how sexy you looked.”

Kiyoko stopped to read your expression. You could tell she was hesitant about continuing her story because she did not want to make you feel uncomfortable.

“It’s okay, Kiyoko. I want to know what he said.”

Kiyoko continued, “Then he proceeded to describe to his friend in detail - uh - the - uh - things he.... wanted to do you. It was absolutely filthy and vile and even I am not comfortable repeating his words.” You can tell how bad it must have been by the way Kiyoko shivered as she completed her sentence.

“I had no idea Azumane would react the way he did, though. He walked up to the guy and tapped him on the shoulder. I assumed he probably wanted to tell him off or ask him to go away or, at the most, threaten him with his intense expression like he usually does. But as soon as the guy turned to look at him, he just straight up punched him in the face.”

“Wow. Yeah, he totally deserved it,” Suga said, looking deep in thought, “Even so, I would have never expected Asahi to use physical force. I swear, I have never even seen the guy so much as swat a bug away. Although, it also kind of makes sense seeing that it was Y/N that guy was talking about.”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A look of panic flashed across Suga’s face before he said, “I m-mean, seeing that you’re one of his best friends! He would totally feel protective about you.”

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion and you also didn’t miss Daichi and Kiyoko glancing at each other when Suga faltered. However, you didn’t press the matter further. You were more worried about Asahi at this point.

“I should go find him and see if he is okay. You guys should look for a nice place where we can have a chill dinner. Preferably with no alcohol,” you say, rolling your eyes. The others nodded and you set off to find Asahi.

It wasn’t difficult to find him. The sun hadn’t set yet so it was still bright out and his red shirt and large build were hard to miss. He was sitting in a rather secluded part of the beach, surrounded by large rocks on both sides. He didn’t seem angry at all anymore. He seemed to be deep in thought as he stared at the ocean in front of him.

“You okay?”

Your voice broke him out of his reverie and he turned to see you standing behind him.

“Y-Yeah” he seemed almost apologetic as he answered you.

“Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

You were not sure if he wanted you near him or to talk to you since he had asked Suga for some space so you were very hesitant while asking him this.

He winced. “I knew it. I scared you. I am so so sorry.”

“W-what? I didn’t mean-” He stood up. “I saw it in your face. I saw how you looked at me when I... when I punched that guy. I saw how terrified you were of me.”

He wasn’t meeting your eyes, instead he was looking straight down at the ground and, large as he was, he seemed to shrink before you with every word that came out of his mouth.

“I-” you were at a loss of words. He was right, you HAD been scared of him in that moment. You couldn’t control how you reacted to the situation. But before you could start to speak, he continued.

“You were one person who never thought I was scary. You always treated me like a normal person. You were never scared to approach me.

But I am afraid that I ruined that tonight with my behaviour. I have seen that look thousands of times in people’s eyes whenever they look at me. But-” his voice was cracking now, “P-please believe me when I say that I did it for a reason. I cannot tell you the reason but I would do it again in a heartbeat. I know you are probably going to be scared of me from now on. But please believe me, I would never, ever in my life even think of hurting yo-”

He was cut off as you threw your arms around him and enveloped him in a tight hug. He was so surprised by your reaction that it took a moment for him to return the hug. When he did, he buried his face in your shoulder and you could feel his tears on your bare skin.

“I already know what happened.”

He broke away from you and looked at you in surprise, his eyes red.

“Yes. Kiyoko told me most of it. She didn’t elaborate on what the guy said exactly though but I can guess it wasn’t pretty. And it’s true, I did feel scared at that moment. But it was just a reaction. The look in your eye was murderous and I have never seen you this way. So it surprised me. And scared me. But now that I know why you did what you did, I am not scared anymore.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really. Thank you for always looking out for me.”

“O-of course.” and after a brief pause, “How are the others doing?”

“They’re fine. I asked them to look for a restaurant for dinner tonight. Let’s go to them?”

“Yeah uh- before we do that, I - uh - wanted to give you something.”

“Oh?”

Asahi was blushing when he took something out of his pocket. You put your hand out and he placed something on your palm. Your eyes widened as you looked at what he gave you. It was a seashell pendant.

“Oh my God, it’s beautiful!! And in my favourite colour too! I had been looking for one like this since ages!”

“Yeah, you had mentioned it in passing once when we were planning this trip. This is what I was buying when, you know, shit happened. I asked Kiyoko to help me pick it out for you because I didn’t want to get the wrong thing.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that! It’s perfect and I love it! Can you help me wear it?” you asked him, handing the pendant back to him. “Y-yeah,” he blushed. You turned your back to him and held up your hair with one arm so that he could put the necklace on easily. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he placed the necklace delicately on you. He used his fingers to move away stray hairs and his touch was so gentle that it sent shivers down your spine (the good kind this time).

As he fumbled around with the delicate clasp with his large fingers, he spoke, “I - uh - I - I- actually wanted to tell you something.”

You could tell he was really nervous. You waited for him to continue.

“I-I know it’s our last year and soon we will probably be in different cities and this is probably the last thing you want to hear from me right now but-”

The clasp snapped into place and the necklace was now secure around your neck. You turned around to face him.

“But?” you reached your hand out to hold his.

He was really taken aback by your action and his eyes widened. It seemed to give him some confidence.

“B-But I know I will regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t ask you when I have the chance. A chance that I thought I’d lost forever today. So, Y/N, I really, really like you. I have liked you for a long time now and you are the most wonderful person I have ever met. A-and I was wondering if you w-would like to go out with me?”

“I really, really like you too, Asahi.” You were smiling widely as you said “Yes” and stood on your toes to give him a light kiss on his forehead.

Asahi was blushing furiously now. You laughed out loud at how flustered he was. It was good to have the goofy, old teddy bear back.

As you linked your arm through his and walk back to your friends, you couldn’t help but be giddy with happiness.

You were going out with the best, most gentle, most caring person you have ever known. But you now know that there is a beast within him. A beast that will do anything to protect you.

FIN.

Thanks for reading!! Hope you liked it.

Sorry if you think it is ooc for Asahi but I do think that, when it comes to it, he is the kind of person who would go to any lengths to protect the people he cares about. Case in point, when he used his looks to scare off two boys who were trying to hit on Kiyoko during the third years’ shrine visit (manga only scene).

I am kind of not really satisfied with this one but I also just spent more than half a day writing this so I didn’t want to ditch it halfway.

Reblogs, likes and follows are very much appreciated.

Buy me a Kofi! <3

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shades-of-stony · 3 years

Text

Heavy Angst (And Not-So-Heavy but Still Angsty) Stony Fanfics!

I’m absolutely love a good Tony whump and hurt story so prepare to see a lot of those here! Get your tissues ready!

Push by phoenixreal

Summary: Tony Stark was known for pissing people off, it was a given. Then, after the man everyone thought was nothing more than a selfish prick decided to nearly kill himself saving Manhattan from a nuclear bomb, even the most sure of Tony's bastard status had to rethink it. And then, his team who were sure they had him pegged, they were invited (ordered) to move into Stark Tower with him. To their surprise, they found he had furnished full floors for each of them, somehow knowing their tastes exactly, including a floor dedicated to the resident Asgardian who would only be there some of the time. Surprised, and please, they all wonder at the enigma that is their host. After a couple months, Pepper Potts stops coming around so much, and they realize that something has exchanged between them because they are rather professional to each other. Pepper still frets over Tony, but instead tells the others to keep an eye on him rather than doing it herself. They easily forget that Tony is, and always has been, simply a human civilian. Then things get strange when they find themselves locked down within Stark tower, and after a harrowing viewing of a mysterious video, they find their resident playboy is completely gone.

Note: Prepare to cry and be hurt! This fanfic dabbles with Tony’s insecurity, self-worth, and issues. Please heed the warnings!

The words you choose to say by masterlokisev159

Summary: After the SHRA, the events around Steve’s death and Tony discovering he deleted part of his brain, Tony finally decides he's done enough. With Osborn taken care of, Tony leaves the Avengers and decides to quit being Ironman effective immediately.

He tells himself it doesn't hurt when Steve agrees. Why should it? After everything he's done, the team's better off without him.

However before he can truly move on, there are things he needs to take care of, and it's not long before he realizes he's dangerously close to losing his company. He's desperate and willing to do anything to keep it together.

So when, after months of silence, Steve asks him to drop everything and come work for Shield, Tony finds he doesn't have a choice. He agrees, no matter how much he knows he shouldn't. His reputation isn't exactly the best after the SHRA and he's heard stories of what he'd done as Director. He's knows what he's done. He's knows he's responsible for what happened to Steve.

He just wishes someone had warned him first. He hadn't been prepared to deal with the consequences.

Note: A 1000/10 angst fanfic that made me weep at 3 am in the morning. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. READ IT AND PREPARE TO CRY BUCKETS

Protocol SOTERIA by GoldenFinches

Summary: Friday's primary objective at all times is to protect one Anthony Edward Stark. And she will fulfill that objective no matter what it takes. Even if it means including certain people she thought she would never have to deal with again.

(Basically the Rogue Avengers get some sense knocked into them with the help of Friday and handful of videos.)

Note: A HIGHLY RECOMMENDED ANGSTY FANFIC. I CRIED SO MUCH READING THIS.

Straight to Voicemail by YouMakeMeDokiDoki

Summary: "I DID!" Tony screamed, cutting Steve off mid-sentence and whirling around to glare at him.

"I CALLED YOU! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!"

The one where no one answered their phone and things got out of hand.

Note: this will absolutely break you heart.

Sunshine and Luck by ImportedfromMunich2

Summary: Months after Siberia, Steve and the rest of the defectors are pardoned and allowed back onto the Avengers, with the help of Tony Stark. Now that they're back - nothing is the same as before. Tony is even avoiding Steve at all costs.

Then one night - Tony barges into Steve's bedroom while he sleeps, and they have spontaneous, passionate sex.

Only, the Tony Stark he just fucked isn't from this universe.

Now, Steve has to find a way to explain to Tony that he had sex with his counterpart from another dimension.

Note: A good Steve whump fic!

When You Mess With Him... by REM_It_Up

Summary: During an event with the Avengers, Tony is kidnapped by an unknown group of men right in front of the team. The group who took Tony taunt the Avengers by leaving small clues to Tony's whereabouts. When the kidnappers finally get in contact with the team, they are forced to watch Tony get tortured on camera.

The Avengers desperately search for their missing friend before they never see him again.

The kidnappers are smart and fast, they have everything figured out in order to get away with their plan...They just forgot one thing--

Colonel James Rhodes

Note: Now this is really heavy! Brace yourselves for a kidnapped and tortured tony! Also, protective honey bear aka Rhodey bonus here!

To Need is Not To Want by Brixon

Summary: All his life Tony has been used as a means to someone's end. Always someone's tool in a game. Carelessly thrown aside, once they had no longer use of him. He keeps it bottled up because, because he's Tony Stark. But he's always had this desire that one day someone would come who would stay because they wanted and needed him. He thought he had that with the Avengers, but after everything with the Accords and everyone leaving after Civil War that hope of having something of his to stay was gone.

Despite being burned constantly, Tony still has this wanting. So when Ryder, an old college friend, comes back into his life and actually seems to want to stay because he wants AND needs Tony, Tony is beyond thrilled. Because Ryder is staying. It doesn't matter if the bruises stay too.

But what happens when the Avengers return and Tony finds himself wondering once again exactly what he wants and what he needs.

Note: I’m sure, from the summary, you can tell that it’s a heartbreak here.

Hiding Things Is All Too Easy - Until It Isn't by audhds

Summary: Tony hasn't been the same since Bucky arrived at Stark Tower. That much is obvious. But Steve is overjoyed to have his best friend back and is somewhat oblivious to how Tony is withdrawing away from him. Because surely Tony is just overworked as usual. He must be quiet and jumpy because he is sleep deprived. And of course he has a few cuts and bruises on the visible parts of his skin - he fights and works for the Avengers as a living. It's part of the job description. Until it isn't.

Will Steve discover the physical and mental trauma that Tony is going through before it is too late?

Note: This is even heavier! Please read the tags carefully! Also, this has some serious Bucky bashing! If you are a Bucky fan but still interested in this, please prepare yourself.

No Trait As Much As This by KandiSheek

Summary: Tony gets hit with truth serum. It's a terrible time for everyone.

Note: A bit lighter than the others but still angst nonetheless. The added truth serum element makes this even more interesting!

Good For You by @orbingarrow

Summary: Steve doesn't understand why Tony dates people who abuse him. Tony doesn't understand why Steve cares.

The rest is bad choices, good choices, rehab, milkshakes, paintball, YouTube videos, couples therapy and learning to put the past in the past. Or: How Tony finds his happy ending.

Note: Another Tony-in-abusive-relationships fanfic!!

hold the things you wanna say by SailorChibi

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay.

He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really.

What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always.

This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

Note: Anyone up for some Howard-travels-to-the-future fanfic?

Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by MemoryDragon

Summary: Seven-year-old Tony Stark wakes up on a Hydra base, lost, afraid, and alone. He has to overcome his fears before it's too late for the Avengers and Captain America.

Note: De-aged Tony just screams heavy angst and hurt!

Advanced Protocol by masterlokisev159

Summary: The Incursions are coming. The Illuminati have surrendered and everyone has come together to take one last stand.

Everyone except Tony. And Steve is tired of waiting. He wants answers.

There's something the Illuminati aren't telling him.

Note: If you don’t know what the Avalon is in Marvel, I recommend you search it up, or you could read this fic. You will be heartbroken with what you find.

Flower Child by itsallAvengers

Summary: The point was this, though:

In a hundred million universes, in a hundred million different lives, there would never be a single one of them in which Tony Stark deserved anyone like Steve Rogers. Ever.

So this? Nonsensical.

Note: Another fanfic that highlights child abuse and Tony’s insecurities!

What Pays All Debts by KandiSheek

Summary: No one is supposed to survive the date written on their skin. And yet Tony's numbers keep piling up.

Note: Angst + Death dates? You could probably foretell how much of a gut-wrench journey this is.

Falling Into You by sabrecmc

Summary: Tony and Steve end up as fuck buddies after the events of The Winter Soldier until Steve calls it off. When Loki's spell wipes all of Steve's memories since the last time Loki was in town, Tony decides it will be so much easier to just not tell Steve they had something of a relationship. Spoiler: It isn't.

Or, how Steve fell in love with Tony and forgot about it, and how Tony fell in love with Steve and realized it.

Note: There are just something about amnesia fanfics that makes it so goddamn heartbreaking.

Art Freaks and Comic Geeks by Coil

Summary: Tony Stark had made himself a phenomenally renowned writer. The world had fallen in love with the heroes that appeared in his novels; captivated by his vivid words of life and colour.

His next ambition was to publish a comic book series starring the much-beloved heroes of his novels. There was just one problem. Brilliant as Tony may have been with his words, his skills in the field of drawing were less than great. It didn’t help that he barely knew what his characters ought to look like in the first place.

Enter: Mister Steve Rogers – an up-and-coming artist/illustrator with the potential to be brilliant.

Their paths happen to cross at Comic-Con.

Note: this is a much lighter angsty fanfic but is still angsty. It is a Modern AU mixed with Artist!Steve and Writer!Tony.

Unwritten Endings by XtaticPearl

Summary: Tony takes the bullet meant for Captain America at the end of their war and through his death, brings together the team again. Only, he isn't really dead and when he comes back, the equations between the team-mates begin to alter and reform, writing a new story altogether.

Note: Of course, you can’t have an angst fanfic rec without a fake death fanfic!

WIP

Need Is Just A Word by masterlokisev159

Summary: A month has gone by since the war and Tony has never felt more alone. of course, with the unrest within the government, the disappearance of the Avengers and the obvious lack of Steve Rogers, it was only a matter of time before the UN finally flipped out and decided to act on the last available Avenger. Too bad they didn't realise a promise had been made by Captain America to be there when Iron man needed him.

Note: a gut-wrenching Post CA:CW fanfic where tony is suffering the consequences of the civil war.

Take me out tonight by masterlokisev159

Summary: When Steve gets invited to a formal party with the government, Fury tells him he can bring a plus one of his choosing. While listening quietly in the corner, Tony heaves a sigh of relief because the team could really do with some positive publicity and any of the Avengers are a good choice for Steve. Tony just wants Steve to be happy after all, even if he knows Steve's gonna pick Natasha. He knows Steve doesn't like him and he's aware there's never going to be anything more between them. They're barely even friends really.

So of course he's absolutely shocked when a gold filigree letter rests in his palms two days later. He's the worst person for this.

Why on earth did Steve choose him?

Note: AHHHHHHHH, INSECURE TONY IS JUST A FAVORITE. Also, confident!Steve that knows who he wants is just a whole new mood!

The Soul Stone's Sacrifice by masterlokisev159

The soul stone demands a sacrifice that Tony and Steve are not prepared for, but in the end, one life is sacrificed for the many. Steve lets Tony go for the last time and mourns a future they never had.

That is until Tony comes back.

Note: A scenario where Tony and Steve where the ones to go to Vormir.

#stony #stony fic #stony fic rec #steve and tony #steve and tony fic #stony au #stony angst #superhusbands #stony fics #stony fanfiction

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

Haikyuu!! Sentence Starters #1-10

A collection of the Haikyuu sentence starters I've done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.

~~~

1) Lee Noya, Ler Hinata

“Not such a tough little libero now, huh?”

The tease slipped out of Hinata’s mouth with ease as he grinned down at his friend, who was curled up in a giggling ball on the floor.

“S-Shuhuhuhut up, Hinata!” Noya protested, his face bright pink as he tried to hold back the flood that threatened to burst at any moment.

“I think you’re even more ticklish than me, Noya, and that’s saying something!” Hinata giggled along with his upperclassman, easily able to keep up with his squirmy movements. This was way easier than trying to tickle Kageyama. At least in this situation, he had a whole inch of height to his advantage!

Noya squealed and arched his back when the redhead found his lower ribs, crawling up from his sides. “N-Nohohohoho, nononono – Hinata, stahahahahap!”

Hinata beamed. “Why? I like seeing you smile and laugh like this!”

“T-Tickles – it f-frihihihihihicking tickles, Hinatahahahahaha!”

“Oh, really?” Hinata started dragging his fingers up and down the libero’s ribs, thrilled when Noya couldn’t hold back anymore and started squealing with high-pitched laughter. “I would never have guessed.”

“Hinata!” Noya managed before giving up the fight and laying back to take it, shockwave after shockwave of ticklish sensations lighting up his nervous system and making him laugh and squirm involuntarily. But – if he was honest with himself – he really didn’t mind the distraction.

2) Lee Noya, Ler Kageyama

“What’s wrong?” Kageyama smirked, holding Noya’s feet in his lap and trailing his fingers lazily up and down the soles. “I thought touch was your love language.”

Noya blushed furiously. “Y-Yeah, but not that kind of touch. Jeez…”

Kageyama replied by scratching his fingernail in the center of the libero’s left sole. “No? Really?”

“S-Stohohohop,” Noya giggled, covering his face with his hands and tugging at his feet half-heartedly.

In the spirit of keeping up the playfulness, Kageyama wrapped one arm around both of Noya’s ankles and held him tighter, scribbling his free hand over both feet at once.

Noya bucked his hips and tried to roll over but quickly wound up on his back again, too weak with laughter to do anything more than protest. “Nohohohohohoho!”

“I don’t know, Yuu, you do seem to be loving this just as much as if I were kissing you.”

“I ahahahahahaham not!”

“You are.” Kageyama grabbed his toes and dug in fiercely. “You should be punished for lying to my face like that.”

Noya tossed his head back and finally started laughing, gripping his stomach as if it would save him somehow. Through screechy giggles he pleaded, “Stohohohohohohop, that s-seheheheheriously tihihihihickles, Kageyama!”

The setter merely chuckled. “I know it does.”

3) Lee Hinata, Ler Suga

“No, I’m not giggling!”

Suga grinned. “You sure? It sounds like you are.”

“Well, I’m not!” Hinata insisted indignantly, trying desperately to reach the beetle that was crawling on his lower back, exactly where he couldn’t reach it. Another chuckle escaped him, making him blush. “Get it off of me, Suga! Why are you just standing there?”

“Because it’s cute that a bug is tickling you and you’re giggling,” Suga replied, taking out his phone. “I’ve got to show the guys.”

“H-Hey! Wait!” Hinata whirled to stop him, but his sudden movement caused the beetle to skitter a little further up his back, even more where he couldn’t reach it, and he arched his body and definitely, absolutely giggled. “S-Stohohop! Get it off of mehehehe!”

Suga laughed, holding his phone steady for the sake of his video. “Oh my god, just when I thought you couldn’t get any more fun to be around, Hinata. You’re getting tickled by a beetle.”

“Shut up, Suga!” Hinata felt the heat of his embarrassment on his cheeks, pouting as he crossed his arms, struggling to stay still as the bug crawled up towards his shoulder blades. “P-Please just get it off. Please?”

“All right, all right.” Suga stopped his recording, pocketed his phone, and went to shoo the beetle away. It flew off, unbothered, having no idea the cute scene it had just caused. “There. It’s gone.”

“You’re so mean. Are you really going to show that video?”

“Of course I am.” The silver-haired setter smirked, scribbling his fingers up and down Hinata’s spine quickly, making the redhead shriek and jolt away from him. “How can I resist?”

4) Lee Daichi, Ler Suga

“I told you, you didn’t have to try that,” Suga said in exasperation. “Now your arms are all red.”

“But Noya made it look so cool; I wanted to give it a go.” Daichi gave him a look. “You can’t seriously tell me you’ve never wanted to do rolling thunder before.”

Suga pressed his lips together. “Well, since you didn’t want to hear my warning, you’ll have to learn a lesson for not listening to me.”

“Isn’t nearly breaking my arms enough of a lesson learned?” The captain retorted, eyes widening when he saw wiggling fingers approaching him. He took a step back. “Suga, you wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

The setter lunged after his friend, and the two ran around the gym together, sprinting at top speeds to try and catch up to and evade each other. Eventually Suga tricked Daichi into going around the net while he ducked under it, and that finally closed the gap between them.

“No, nohohohoho, wait!” Daichi burst into giggles the instant the silver-haired setter grabbed his sides. “Dohohohohon’t do thahahahat!”

“You deserve it,” Suga shot back, grinning, “for failing to heed my oh-so-sage advice, captain. If you really want to learn rolling thunder, I’m sure Noya would be willing to teach you.”

“G-Gehehehet – get ohohohohoff! Suga!” Daichi twisted and writhed in the setter’s surprisingly strong grip, but he wasn’t going anywhere. “Stohohohohohop!”

Suga only held him closer. “Nope. This is what you get.”

5) Lee Daichi, Ler Ennoshita

“Leave me be!” Daichi snapped, turning his back and striding away.

Ennoshita blinked, surprised. He’d been watching the captain a lot more as of late, knowing his fellow second-years were looking to make him Daichi’s replacement once he graduated. He’d of course noticed how hard his upperclassman worked to remain a levelheaded, fair leader to the team – something he wished to do as well. But in the midst of his observations he’d also noticed that Daichi worked himself almost too hard trying to be the perfect example, and when he’d decided to suggest that he take it easy, “leave me be!” was the response he got.

“You don’t have to be a jerk about it,” he muttered. “I’m just trying to help.”

Daichi paused, then let out a sigh and looked back at him. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Ennoshita.”

The second-year smiled and put a hand on his captain’s shoulder. “It’s all right. I know you’re stressed. But that’s exactly why you should take it easy.” Then, inspired by something he’d seen Hinata doing quite a lot lately, he reached out to grab Daichi’s side and squeeze. “To start, you could smile a little more, you know?”

“Ah! W-Whahahahahahat?” Daichi sputtered, helpless against the wide smile that took over his features. He tried to squirm away, but Ennoshita gripped his shoulder even tighter.

“There you go, just like that! Next, you can laugh.” The younger boy grabbed both of his sides then, digging in deep, and Daichi shrieked before doubling over, loud giggles pouring from his mouth.

“Ennoshihihihihihita!”

“That’s my name,” Ennoshita confirmed, grinning, and kept tickling his upperclassman.

6) Lee Hinata, Ler Tanaka

“Come on! I see that smile! Give me the smile!”

“Stohohohohohohop! Tanakahahahahahaha!” Hinata squealed, trying his best to double over and fall to the floor. Tanaka wasn’t having it, holding onto him firmly with one arm and digging into his side with the other.

“Come on, Hinata! Stop being so mopey. We all know you’re sad and depressed because Kageyama’s sick today—”

“I’m nohohohohoohohot sahahahahad and deprehehehessed!” Hinata protested, his cheeks flaming red as tomatoes at the callout.

“—but don’t you think he’d want you to be happy and smiling with us instead of pouting all day?”

“I’m nohohohohohohot pouting!”

“Well, not anymore, you’re not!” Tanaka grinned devilishly, scribbling up to Hinata’s underarm. “Tickle, tickle, little lovebird~”

“Stahahahahahahahap!”

“Daichi!” Tanaka turned his head to his upperclassman. “You getting this?”

“Already done,” replied the captain, storing his phone away.

And Kageyama – sick in bed – opened up the video sent to him via text message and smiled, seeing his boyfriend giggling hysterically and already feeling leagues better for it.

7) Lee Yamaguchi, Ler Tsukishima

“Stop laughing, this is serious!”

Tsukishima’s harsh words only made Yamaguchi laugh even harder, gripping his stomach as he doubled over. “I-I cahahahahan’t hehelp it…t-thehehehehehey’re r-right – pfffhahahahaha!”

Tsukki growled in irritation. He could barely see Tadashi, having lost his sports glasses and his normal ones stowed away in his duffel bag. “They’re right where? If you see them then tell me where they are! I’m getting impatient.”

Yamaguchi finally regained enough breath to manage, “T-They’re…right there, Tsukki. Around your neck. They just fell, that’s all.”

Blinking, Tsukki looked down and felt around his neck for his spectacles, and sure enough, that’s exactly what had happened. He let out a sigh and put them back on, adjusting them so he could see his friend’s face, pink from laughing and with a wide smile still in place.

“You think this is funny?” Tsukki sauntered up to him. “I’ll give you something to laugh about.”

“Huh? W-Wait!” Tadashi tried getting away, but his blonde friend was taller and stronger and way more intimidating, and it wasn’t long at all before he felt fingers in his ribs, tickling deeply, precisely, drawing out unintentional giggles and squeaks. “Nohohohohoho! I’m sohohohohorry – plehehehehehehease! Tsukkiehehehehehehehe!”

8) Lee Tanaka, Ler Daichi

“Dude, you’re way too soft on them,” Daichi said, shaking his head as he watched their two wild first-years sprint out of the gym, no doubt racing to the lockers as though their lives depended on it.

Tanaka shrugged. “Eh, so they’re a little nuts. So was I, when I first started. You were easy on me then.”

“I wasn’t the captain then.”

“And I’m not their captain now. Hopefully ever, dear god.” Tanaka laughed, clapping Daichi on the shoulder. “Relax, dude, they’ll turn out fine. I did, didn’t I?”

Daichi looked at him, and his expression softened. “Yeah, I suppose you did. Still…” He reached for his underclassman’s sides, digging in deep and enjoying the surprised yell he got in return. “I think you could use a lesson yourself, knucklehead.”

“Ack! N-No, ha-hahahahang on a second, I d-dohohon’t need – god, Daichi! Stahahahahap!” Tanaka sputtered and finally broke down into giggles, trying to worm his way out of the older boy’s grip. “Cahahahan’t you lehehehet me d-defehehehend myself for f-fihihihihive seheheheconds?!”

“Mmm…no,” Daichi decided, grinning, tickling even harder. Tanaka finally began to laugh, doubling over and trying to bat the captain’s hands away. “No, I don’t think I can, my friend.”

9) Lee Suga, Ler Daichi

“Okay but look, guys – it’s so deep!” Daichi exclaimed, drilling his finger even deeper into Suga’s navel.

Suga was lying on the floor, back arched, head tossed back with throes of laughter, hands pushing weakly at Daichi’s while the captain straddled him, pinning him in place for this ticklish torture.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Suga screamed, laughing louder and harder than anyone on the team had ever heard before. He kicked his legs uselessly, face turning red. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Holy crap, dude,” Tanaka laughed, kneeling down a few paces away to get a better look while the others simply stared on from behind him. “Are you kidding me with that laugh? You sound like a hyena!”

“I DOHOHOHOHOHOHO NOHOHOHOHOHOHOT!!” Suga cried, but he knew he did. He let out a loud squeal, then a snort, and his laughter turned so hysterical it was practically wild.

The others started laughing with him, catching his infectious giggles.

Daichi finally let up after another few moments, scribbling over his belly lightly to bring him gently back down from his tickle-high, and then at last easing up completely. “Your hyena laugh is the best, Suga.”

The silver-haired setter gasped for breath and let out a few residual giggles. “I’m glad you like it, you bully,” he groaned, but he was smiling.

10) Lee Tanaka, Ler Hinata

“Don’t poke me!”

Hinata grinned, proceeding to poke Tanaka again anyway. “Why? Does it tickle?”

“You little—!” Tanaka tried to grab him and tickle him first, but Hinata had always had speed on his side, and the redhead had scrambled behind his upperclassman and latched onto him, drilling into his ribs and sides. The second-year let out a yelp, trying to keep from laughing. “Gah! Get off! Hinata, this isn’t funny!”

“I think it’s funny,” Hinata replied, giggling as though to prove his point. He reached up even further into Tanaka’s underarm, and that’s when the upperclassman finally broke and started cackling.

“Nohohohohohoho! You lihihihihihittle jeheheheheheherk!”

“Aw, you’re ticklish, Tanaka!”

“I knohohohohow that! You dohohohohon’t need to tehehehehehell me!”

The redhead beamed, tickling under both arms now. “Tickle, tickle, tickle!”

“Stahahahahap it, you fihihihihihirst-year brahahahahat!”

Hinata laughed. “You sound like Tsukki.”

“I sohohohohohohound nothing lihihihihike that stuck-up – ahahahahahahaha nohohohohoho!” Tanaka tried to wiggle away from Hinata’s fingers along his neck and shoulders but found he was attached quite firmly and couldn’t be shaken off. “Hinata, stahahahahahap already!”

“Okay, fine…” Hinata relented, finally letting him go, grinning. But when Tanaka whirled on him, evil smirk in place, the redhead knew he’d made a mistake in conceding so quickly. He turned on his heel and ran.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #tickle drabble #compilation #quick prompts #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #sentence starters

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bffsoobin · 4 years

Text

Love Love

↳beomgyu could be a tough puzzle to solve. You knew that. You knew everything about him. That’s what best friends are for, after all. But why is he so upset over your date with Taehyun?

➤ best friends to lovers, highschool au, fluff, a little bit of angst (jealousy)

Requested?: yes

Word Count: 3,779

A/N: I attempted humor here, hopefully that translated? Also I hope the turning point is good enough shdksnoeun. I rewrote it a lot to try and fit what the request asked for. As always, heed the general warning that I haven’t proof read or edited this. Also I’m tagging the biggest Beomgyu stan I know, the lovely @star-daegyu as they requested!💕

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

“What?” Beomgyu sounded scandalized as you shut the door to your locker.

“You heard me! Don’t make me say it again,” you clutched at the chemistry textbook cradled in your arms. Beomgyu stared down at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen since Mr.Jackson showed a documentary about how climate change was fake. You started walking away but he came with you in perfect lockstep.

“No, say it again. I’m trying to see if my neurons misfired or if you actually just told me that-” he gagged dramatically as the two of you rounded the corner into a different hallway.

“Remind me again why I put up with you?” You grumbled cynically.

“Remind me why you won’t repeat what you just told me at your locker?” Beomgyu wrapped his hands around the straps of his bookbag and stared at you indignantly. Your sneakers squeaked against the tile flooring of your classroom as you entered with Beomgyu in tow. The two of you were always the first students in class after your lunch period and today you had even beaten the teacher. Beomgyu looked around at the empty room and gestured around with his arms spread wide.

“Last chance to tell me before this room starts filling up with our drama hungry classmates!” Before you had thought he was just teasing you to get a rise, but now you could sense an undercurrent of something odd. Jealousy?

“Fine,” you grumbled halfheartedly. “Taehyun asked me out.” You knew that your skin was flushed red as a side effect of the confession. Beomgyu nodded tightly before taking a dramatic lap around the classroom. Once he was back by your side, he plopped down in his desk next to you.

“And you said yes?” He had finally lowered his voice as a throng of classmates filtered through the door. Your heart beat kicked up a notch as you tried to pick apart his tone. You couldn’t help but feel an odd pang in your chest at the idea that he might be jealous that someone else got to you first. You dismissed that quickly; as there was no way you would let yourself fall back into that pining when Taehyun was right in front of you and willing to give you romantic attention.

“Of course I said yes, you know I have a crush on him! Why are you being so weird about this?” you hissed underneath your breath as the room filled steadily with even more post-lunch chatter. Beomgyu’s lips were pulled in an unsettling straight line as he simply nodded at your words. A knot twisted up in your stomach at the thought of your bestfriend being angry over something he knew you were excited about. As your teacher began to talk, the only thing you could focus on was Beomgyu. He was sitting oddly still, carefully angling his body away from you so much that you couldn’t even attempt to read the expression on his face. Of course you were worried; but more than anything you were annoyed as hell. You were used to his dramatics and occasional fits, but this sudden change to childish behavior was totally new and frankly unwarranted. If it weren’t for Mrs. Nielsen’s strict note taking policy you would have put much more effort into telling Beomgyu off during the class period.

The class period passed quickly although the cramp in your hand would surely stick around to be sure you wouldn’t forget about all of the chemistry notes you had taken. Beomgyu remained elusive as the two of you packed up and your pride kept you from asking him if he was okay. He made sure that you couldn’t catch a glimpse of more than just his clothed back as he slung his bookbag back on. Without a word, Beomgyu stood and breezed out of the classroom door. You left the room without him by your side for the first time since you became friends in the 8th grade. A pang of sadness shot through your heart at the realization that you must have done something to really upset him. What had you done to upset him so much that he wouldn’t even say goodbye to you?

Beomgyu wasn’t in your next class with you, but it didn’t stop you from letting thoughts of him totally occupy your mind. It was a twisted type of torture, really, to try and pick apart any of the reasons he would have reacted so horribly to what you saw as a happy moment. You never wanted Beomgyu to be angry with you, and quite frankly you couldn’t even think of the last time the two of you had had a serious fight. Sure, there had been small quarrels over what movie to watch or who got a homework question right, but never anything like this. He’s friends with Taehyun. He was even the one to introduce the two of you at a bonfire over the summer. Was he worried that your new relationship would put a wedge between the two of you? Certainly you could conceptualize that he was worried about having to pick sides after a fight or breakup.

In favor of actually processing some of what your math teacher was currently sprawling on the whiteboard, you decided that you had cracked the code of Beomgyu’s anger. You would confront him on the drive home as soon as the class ended. You would make things right.

As the final bell of the day rang, you rushed to the only working vending machine on the floor and bought a bag of Beomgyu’s favorite candy to use as a peace offering. As you waited in front of the library- as per your daily routine- your heart jumped in your throat at the thought that Beomgyu might not meet up with you. He could very easily charm his way into getting a ride from one of your many classmates just to avoid you some more. The thought brought you to the verge of tears. You couldn’t imagine your life without Beomgyu as your best friend and absolute rock. There was no way you could even deal with him being angry at you when you were ready to apologize. The lump in your throat only widened the longer you waited, shifting from foot to foot as students milled out of the building. You considered texting him but knowing how lazy he could be about answering had you abandoning the idea just as fast.

Finally, you spotted Beomgyu as he breezed through a group of freshmen girls who gawked at him as he passed through. He looked a bit panicked as he approached you, eyes roaming all around the area until he finally spotted you and rushed over.

“Y/N!” He sounded a bit out of breath, which surprised you. “I was worried you were going to leave without me.”

“Of course not, Gyu. I was worried you would pawn someone else into driving you home. I really want to talk to you about earlier,” you paused for a second as the two of you began walking towards the exit. “I got you these, though,” you offered him the bright yellow bag and without even looking his way you could see the smile on his face.

“Do we really have to talk about earlier?” Beomgyu asked through a mouthful of candy. You unlocked your car and threw your backpack into the back seat as he climbed into the passenger seat as if he owned it. Which you guessed he technically did. You fixed him with a glare you knew read as one of annoyance. “I’m over it, I promise,” he pouted, jutting out his bottom lip in a way that would usually make you break. But not today. This was important.

“Yes, we really have to talk about earlier,” you closed the driver’s side door and buckled up as Beomgyu reluctantly clicked his own seat belt into place. With the car in motion, you were grateful for having a valid reason you couldn’t look at him just to see more of his pouting expressions. The radio played a pop song you had heard dozens of times but you and Beomgyu sang along anyway. Admittedly, neither of you were too excited to breach the subject at hand so the distraction was more than welcome. The short ride from the school to your neighborhood was usually seen as a blessing, but not with the looming conversation you were suddenly faced with.

“Okay. This is awkward. I’m gonna go,” Beomgyu chirped, leaning down to scoop up his bookbag from the floor of the car. As soon as his hand grasped the handle of the door, you pressed the lock button. He scoffed. “You can’t be serious, Y/N. Locking me in the car?” You expected him to be pouting, but instead he just looked tired. You huffed out a breath of air.

“Yes, Gyu. I’m locking you in the car so that you can’t run away from me when I’m trying to be serious. I’m not mad at you for being angry earlier. I mean- I was- and then I thought about it and I figured out why you were so upset,” Beomgyu’s face morphed into something close to fear and he opened his mouth to speak. “You don’t want to be caught between Taehyun and I if we date and get in a fight or breakup. I didn’t really think about the fact that you’re also friends with him. I can’t imagine how awkward you must feel about it,” you continued despite his desire to talk. You swallowed hard. “But you need to understand that even though you might feel weird, I still really like him and while I love and value your opinion I’m still going to go out with him.” Beomgyu seemed a little stunned but he nodded anyway.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he pushed his hair away from his forehead, “I’m sorry for getting so upset earlier, but I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I’ve known Taehyun for a while but I’ve known you for even longer and the last thing I want to see is you falling apart because of anything he does.” Your mouth suddenly felt dry.

“What do you mean? Is there something I should be worried about?” You had a feeling that Beomgyu had accidentally let part of his last sentence slip and was now trying to pick up the pieces.

“No! No, Taehyun is great. He’s...he’s a good guy. I was just trying to say that,” he took a deep, shaky breath, “that I don’t know what I would do if you ever came to me hurt over a boy. Any boy. I just love you so much.” He seemed oddly vulnerable even though he had told you that exact phrase so many times before. You hoped he didn’t notice the way your breath stuttered upon hearing him say it so emphatically. There was no way he could know the effect his words had on you. His softened eyes locked onto yours at the feeling of your hand on his shoulder.

“I love you too, Gyu. And I promise you won’t have to be dealing with anything like that. I can handle myself. Now please don’t be so awkward tomorrow. We have a lab and I’d rather not spend the whole period forcing you to speak to me.” Beomgyu’s eyes crinkled into a smile and he reached over to pinch your cheek between his fingers.

“Stoppppp,” you whined loudly, pushing his hand away from you with all of your might. When he finally let go you cupped your cheek in feined upset. “I bought you candy and this is how you repay me?” The sound of the passenger car door unlocking prompted Beomgyu to open the door and hop out into his driveway.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow morning to make up for it.” He was bounding up the steps to his house before you could even come up with a witty response, but you drove away with a lightened heart.

----

Your first date with Taehyun took place on a warm Saturday night. He took you stargazing in a field you didn’t even know existed and somehow came up with a playlist full of your favorite music. It was such a perfect night that you even dreamed of it when you crawled into bed later in the evening.

The next day, you practically ran down the street to Beomgyu’s house to spill all of the details. You greeted his parents and easily bounded into the comfort of his bedroom like you had hundreds of times before. He was still sprawled out under his comforter, hair laying in a mess around him when you busted in.

“You’ll never guess how well yesterday went!” you threw yourself next to him on the bed and bounced him slightly. He groaned and finally sat up.

“Oh, that good, huh?” His voice was still heavy with sleep as he pushed a hand through his unruly hair.

“Yes! He picked me up kind of late and I was worried he was going to take me to a movie, which is-”

“The worst first date,” Beomgyu finished for you as he slid out from under his comforter and stretched his limbs.

“Right. But instead he took me to this field I didn’t even know was a thing around here, and he brought snacks and a blanket and we stargazed!” Beomgyu nodded along to your words as he shuffled toward his door.

“I have to pee, I’ll be back and you can keep filling me in,” you pouted a bit at his interruption of your rambling but knew just how small and insistent his bladder could be. He had missed his fair share of plot twists in movies due to chugging his entire slushie during the previews. You watched him leave and mentally kicked yourself for fawning over the way a strand of his hair seemed to be stuck permanently straight upwards. It was time for you to focus on Taehyun, not Beomgyu. He was just your best friend.

He returned promptly, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes in a way that made you coo at him. He cringed in return and plopped back down on his bed. “Continue telling me about Wonder Boy,” he droned. You frowned.

“You seem like you don’t want to hear about it, Gyu. Are you okay?” He was quiet for a moment.

“Just peachy,” despite the edge in his voice you continued, thinking maybe he was just grumpy this morning.

“Somehow he made the perfect playlist. I’m talking all of my favorite songs. It totally surprised me. We never even talked about music. I really want to know how he knew it all,” you sighed dramatically and missed the way Beomgyu rolled his eyes. After a few more seconds of silence, you felt the need to talk again.

“Are you sure you’re alright? I feel like you’re mad about...something,” you couldn’t quite place it but you knew that something was off with him.

“I’m sure. Just hungry.” He offered as he stood and headed for his door once again. Out of instinct you followed him to his kitchen and downed a bowl of cinnamon cereal in a comfortable quiet.

“We should watch some movies off of our list today,” you offered as you washed out your cereal bowls. Beomgyu gave you the first genuine smile of the morning as he agreed and rushed back to his room to turn on his television and retrieve the ever growing list from his desk drawer. When you met him in his room he was already cuddled up in his blankets with the movie queued.

“Come on, slow poke!” You couldn’t hold back a giggle at how adorable he looked all nestled in like a newborn baby as you slid in right next to him and laid your head on his chest. The movie he had picked was entertaining enough, but certainly catered more to Beomgyu’s tastes than yours. For the sake of being the wonderful best friend you knew you were, you tried your best to focus on it. At some point you lost track of which character was which and gave up on actively following.

Your phone vibrated three times in a row and you decided that since you were already lost, there would be no harm in seeing who was texting you. Your heart rate increased twofold as you read Taehyun’s name. Your thumbs hovered over the screen as you tried to figure out how to respond quickly. While there were no strict rules for your movie watching adventure, you knew that Beomgyu would get whiny quickly about phone usage.

Unfortunately, your neurons weren’t firing fast enough for Beomgyu’s liking.

“Y/N,” he whined, “Can you put your phone away? Who are you even texting?” You could feel him craning his neck to see your screen before noticeably freezing under you.

“Of course,” he mumbled, darkness edging back into his tone. You sighed and sat up off of him and fixed him with what you hoped was a convincing glare.

“Of course what? I’m sorry he texted me, but why are you so angry over him? There’s something you aren’t telling me. Just come out with it already! I thought we were past your pouting over Taehyun and I!” Beomgyu’s jaw tightened at your words.

“No, Y/N. We’re not past it. I’m not over the fact that you’re doting over him when he didn’t even plan your date!” Your eyes widened in confusion.

“Of course he planned the date. Don’t be ridiculous,” you waved him off, shaking your head in disbelief of how childish he was being. Beomgyu sat straight up and reached for his phone from his bedside stand.

“Fine, look. Here’s the proof,” he shoved his phone into your hands, “He wanted to take you to a movie. I told him that was an awful idea,” you read along the messages as he spoke and saw that he was telling the truth. “And so I gave him the stargazing idea, because you once told me that would be your ideal date.” You knew he was right. You could recall the game of truth or dare where you told him that.

“Beomgyu,” you breathed, “I told you that two years ago.” Your heart swelled with a sort of pride you didn’t know you were capable of. Beomgyu was unable to hold back the shy smile that cracked onto his face. He cleared his throat loudly.

“And I had to tell him what snacks to get, and the music�� that’s my playlist for you,” his voice was much more timid than you had ever heard it. “So I planned the date. I was so jealous that he asked you out, and even more so that you said yes. And then he texted me and had to get my advice and I felt even dumber. I’ve been dying to tell you the truth but you were so happy.” Beomgyu heaved a sigh and clenched his fists. “He took you on the date I’ve wanted to take you on since the day we met. And then you came here and you’ve spent all morning talking about how great it was,” he raked his fingers through his hair, “I can’t keep pretending that I haven’t been burning up inside since you told me you said yes to him.”

Beomgyu’s eyes were shaking just as much as his hands when you placed his phone back into them.

“You’re unbelievable,” your words were slipping out before you had time to filter them, “I can’t believe you didn’t just tell me that you liked me. I’ve spent years trying to drown my feelings for you so that our friendship would stay intact and you’re telling me you’ve been in love with me?”

Beomgyu choked on his own spit. “Wait, you have feelings for me too?” You stared at him with your mouth hanging wide open for a few seconds.

“Well I-” you sputtered, “I’ve always kind of…” he raised an eyebrow at you, “Okay, yes! Yes I have feelings for you. I love you too. Love love,” you threw your hands up in defeat as Beomgyu started to laugh deeply. You gasped at him.

“Why are you laughing? I just confessed to you and you’re laughing? You know what, I’m gonna go.” Both of you knew your words held no weight but Beomgyu grabbed you by the wrist to stop you anyway.

“Nope, too late,” he pulled your body back towards his until you were sitting cross legged right next to him. “I’m laughing,” he began as he laced his fingers with yours, “because it's so stupidly like us to take five years and a third party to get us to confess our feelings.” You knew he was right. The absurdity of the situation just felt like another chapter in your book of blissfully clueless friendship.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked sweetly.

“Did you brush your teeth?” You were half teasing and half serious, “I’m not remembering our first kiss as the time you forgot to brush.” Beomgyu pinched your side in retaliation until you surrendered.

“Of course I brushed, Y/N. I’m not a heathen,” you could tell by his tone that he was bordering on being actually offended. “Now can I please kiss you?” You hummed thoughtfully and inched your face closer to his.

“Since you asked so nicely.” His mouth descended on yours and you discovered that yes, he actually did brush his teeth. The thought made you smile as the two of you pressed your lips impossibly closer until they were red and swollen. You felt a little dazed at the idea that you had just kissed Choi Beomgyu, best friend and secret crush of five years. He leaned in again and you closed your eyes, thinking he was going in for another kiss. Instead you felt a rush of warm air against your skin as he laughed.

“You’re already ready for our second kiss?” He teased as you finally opened your eyes. “I was just reaching behind you for your phone,” he waved the object in front of your face. “We have to come up with a text to let Taehyun down easy.” The sparkle in his eyes told you he was getting way too much entertainment out of the idea.

“You’re the worst, Beomgyu,” you crossed your arms across your chest in defense.

“But you love me,” he said in a singsong voice, “love love.”

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hazbincalifornia · 3 years

Note

The breeding season one- Blitzo is dropped into the palace into a room that the furniture has been shoved off to a side for more room except for many blankets and pillows that have been ripped and torn. He starts to say fine let’s get it done with but Stolas leans in with his sharp beak and tears away his clothing as he protests and then he realizes he’s not turning back to normal. Oh no he’s in this form. And it’s Blitzo’s holes he’s looking to plug!

Warnings: While this is a bit dubcon-y, Blitzo gets into it pretty fast. Also, explicit sexual content, size difference, monster fucking, breeding kink, cum inflation, the whole works.

"So, loving the enthusiasm, but can we talk about this first? Preferably somewhere when you aren't flashing a hundred teeth next to my nether regions?" He instinctively flashed a grin up at the mountain of twisting shadows and molten magic that was looming a little too close.

Stolas (was it even still Stolas anymore?) didn't reply, running his tongue up Blitzo's body and leaving a trail of off-gray slime from his stomach to halfway up his horns.

"...Can you at least not rip me in half?" It came out with more of a squeak than he would have liked.

The fact that he could already feel himself getting aroused did not help his case as he swore Stolas started laughing.

"Oh, come on, I'm serious! I'd rather not have 'ripped in half via the asshole' on my gravestone, I deserve to die with more dignity than that!" Blitzo pushed himself up off the blankets, but Stolas bent forward and pushed him back down again as he started nudging between Blitzo's legs. "Yeah, yeah, you're horny, just gimme a second to adjust, alright? I'm pretty damn stretchy, just..." He reached his hand down, sliding two fingers into the already-dripping slit. "Jesus fuck. Okay. Look, since you're barely all here at the moment anyway, might as well admit I may have jacked off to the thought of this a couple of times, but I always figured it'd be something we'd work up to, you know-"

Stolas's body rumbled like a jet engine, the vibrations from the sound shaking the room, and the tremors scurried up Blitzo's spine. This towering thing that could probably bite his head off without even a thought wanted to screw him.

...He'd probably never been more turned on in his life.

Stolas was already adjusting on the blankets and pillows, claws shredding them with every slight shift of his body, and Blitzo tore his underwear the rest of the way off, sucking in a deep breath.

"Alright, I'm just going to assume that there's enough thought in that giant head of yours to not eviscerate me, otherwise that's gonna kill the boner here just a little." He gestured up to Stolas with a wave of his hand. "I assume it's why you grabbed me specifically, anyway, right?"

Stolas's head tilted, and Blitzo's fingers twitched. "Okay, can't talk. Got it."

Stolas slammed down one wing on either side of the imp, pinning Blitzo underneath him.

"Mine,"

the voice growled from the very air around them, and Blitzo could feel the deep timbre rattling in his bones.

"So you can talk. And you're possessive. Shoulda- ah, okay, touchy touchy, that's the same old same old." Stolas had placed a clawed wing on Blitzo's shoulder before pushing him down further on the pillows, and for the first time Blitzo noticed an absolutely massive cock between the currently-way-more-fucking-demonic-than-usual owl demon's legs. Right. That was... probably going inside of him.

God damn why was he still this horny.

Stolas leaned forward to nuzzle against him, and Blitzo could feel the heat radiating off the insides of his wings, shifting red magic rippling inches from his skin like he was stuck inside of a tanning bed, but then Stolas lowered his hips and that tip touched his entrance and-

Blitzo's fingers dipped down to try and spread himself wider, Stolas's smothering presence and radiating power combined with the incoming promise of the fucking of a lifetime more than he could stand to wait for.

"Fuuuck, come on, get it in there, get it in, get it in-" Blitzo chanted, legs twitching a little as he made room and Stolas slipped in further, more than glad that he'd had at least some practice with the horse dildos displayed proudly on his shelf. There was no way in the seven rings Stolas was going to get all the way in- he was pretty sure that thing was longer than he was and he'd rather stay in one piece, thanks- but Blitzo was no quitter and he was going to get every inch that he could.

"C'mon, big boy, don't you wanna take the hottest imp in Hell?" Blitzo cooed, a strangled purr choking out from his throat as Stolas pushed in more, fluid gushing out as his body lubricated itself.

...He probably should have looked for some actual lube, but considering how much of a mess the nest was and the lack of any kind of warning, he doubted Stolas had that kind of foresight right now. At least he was doing fine on his own on that front.

His own cock had no room to slither out- the sheer size of Stolas's had jammed up the skin on the slit, so it was going to be a pussy game today, it looked like. Fine by him, at the moment about all he could do was dig into the sheets and twitch- and talk.

"F-fuck, Stolas, that feels like you're shoving a fist up there but better, it's so full-" Stolas let out a rumble in reply, licking at Blitzo's face again before thrusting in a bit further, officially taking Blitzo from overfull to 'drooling cocksleeve' and snapping any lingering inhibitions in the process as every one of his pleasure nerves were slammed at once and he orgasmed but had no time to process as Stolas kept going.

"Fuck, goddamn, you're so fucking big, fuckin breed me again, fill me up, do it, Stolas, Stolas, Stolas-" The words were only half-coherent but Stolas heeded them, starting to pump in and out, leaving the overstimulated imp alternately feeling empty and stuffed to bursting. His hands roamed for something to ground him, and in the process of grabbing a pillow, a glance down showed Stolas bulging out his middle when he was pushed in only moments before he came, flooding Blitzo with enough cum to impregnate an army, bloating his stomach up instantly like a pressure hose and in such volume he swore he could taste it as he came again around Stolas.

He lay there panting for a moment as Stolas pulled out, one hand resting on his sloshy midsection. "I'd give a punchy one-liner but I think I might just throw up."

Stolas just nudged at his stomach with his beak before giving a pleased hoot and positioning himself in place again, and Blitzo groaned even as he parted his legs.

"You're lucky I'm a quick recharge."

#spicy text #shadow writes stuff #helluva mpreg #daddy blitzo #it's kinda implied with one of the lines?#asks #anonymous

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trashforhockeyguys · 4 years

Text

Don’t Hold Me -6- Carter Hart

A/N: Hey guys, I’m still alive lol. AND DHM IS FINALLY BACK!!! Buckle up my loves, things are finally starting to happen. I’m super excited for where this story is going, and I can’t wait for yall to see it all unfold!

As always, all previous parts are linked in my master list!

"Y/N, can I move yet?” Nolan asked you.

“Hang on,” You started to chew on your lip as you continued to draw, “Move your head a little to the right? Yeah! Like that, the shadows are good like that.”

“Sorry Patty, I offered to be a nude model or whatever.”

“Travis shut up. No one wants to see that.”

Travis laughed from the kitchen. For one of your classes, you had to draw a portrait of someone, unfortunately for Nolan, he’d volunteered to sit for one. Although, you knew he didn’t exactly think that this was going to take this long. He thought it would take a few minutes at most, not over an hour.

“Nolan stop laughing! I’m almost done.”

You didn’t even notice that someone else had walked in until a cup of coffee from your favorite place down the road was put in front of you. You didn’t look over your shoulder, you already knew who it was, but you couldn’t help the simple smile that crept across your face. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but it was there.

“Thank you.”

“Woah, she actually said two words to him,” Nolan said in sheer surprise.

“And they were nice!” Travis added.

“Shut up. Nolan I swear to god if you move one more time I will beat you with a stick.”

“That looks really good,” Carter said from behind you, ignoring what his teammates were saying.

You hummed and began to drag your pencil across the page again. You tried not to think about the fact that he was still standing behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence. A small part of your brain started to wonder what it would be like if he just wrapped his arms around you. You almost wanted it.

You tried to snap yourself out of it. But the longer he was there, the more you wanted to just be closer to him. You had no idea what was going on. This wasn’t like you. You didn’t do things like this. You didn’t need anyone else.

“For your class?” Carter asked.

“Yeah. Nolan was a better choice than Travis. At least he can sit still for more than five minutes, and be quiet.”

“Rude,” Travis mumbled.

Your body seemed to almost tingle from how close Carter was to you. You weren’t sure what was happening. You didn't do things like this. You could control everything. But this, this didn’t feel like something you could control. Your body seemed to be taking over from your head. You didn’t know how to handle this anymore. Everything seemed to be cloudy and unclear now.

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, okay, done.”

“Yeah? I can eat now?” Nolan asked.

You weren’t done. You were far from done, but you needed to put space between you and Carter before you did something potentially stupid. All you could think of was getting his arms around you. You wanted to be close to him in a way that you knew was an awful idea.

“Yeah, go do whatever Nols, I can do the finishing touches without you modeling for me,” You laughed, trying to sound normal again.

He nodded and moved on. You wanted to go hide now. You wanted to get away from Carter. The buzzing tingly feeling was spreading throughout my whole body. You had no idea what was really going on. All you knew was that you were starting to feel things for Carter that you shouldn’t feel.

Everything seemed to be blurred now. There were lines you weren’t meant to cross, you knew that, but where were they? What fell into the category of things not to do? Because strangely enough, all you wanted to do now was let yourself sink into Carter’s arms, and just stay there for the rest of the day, and that’s something you absolutely couldn’t do.

You didn’t want to leave the boys behind, but you also knew that you needed to get some air before your body took over and made you do something you knew would lead to some serious trouble.

“I’m going to go get some food, does anyone want anything?”

“Just sit your little ass down, I’ll make lunch,” Travis told me, pointing to the couch.

You huffed and plopped back down onto the couch. Carter was on the other end. Too close for comfort, or maybe not close enough for your body to be comfortable. You couldn’t understand what was going on, how your body was reacting to this. You weren’t meant to like Carter Hart. You’d sworn off hockey players after the last time, that didn’t mean you could just drop everything for Carter. You wouldn’t drop everything for him. You’d figure out how to get yourself to stop feeling whatever you were feeling for him. You weren’t going to do this again.

“When do you leave for that road trip?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Nolan replied, “We’ll try not to let you get beat to hell, Carter.”

You tried to laugh with them. But the idea of any of them potentially getting hurt made your stomach twist. You hated when they went on road trips because it meant that something might happen and you wouldn’t be there. You weren’t their protector, you knew that. But them being gone also meant they wouldn’t be here for you, should you need them.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Travis said, “We’ll be back before you know it.”

You forced a smile, “Maybe that’s what I’m worried about..”

“Liar,” Travis smiled sadly at you and pulled you in for a hug.

What you didn’t notice was how Carter was looking at you. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should heed TK’s warning and stay away from you, all for your sake. But you had a way of drawing him in, and making him want to know more about you. He wanted to be a part of the close inner circle you’d built with TK and Patty. He couldn’t explain it, he had girls throwing themselves at him all of the time, but for some reason he wanted you.

The shy girl who hid under baggy sweatshirts and didn’t seem to notice how amazing you could truly be. Everytime he was near you he thought about the night he had to bring you back to his apartment after that stupid party.

You’d started screaming and crying in your sleep. He’d never tell you that, but he didn’t sleep on the floor of his bedroom because you were getting sick all night. It was because something was haunting you, causing you to wake up screaming. It’d scared the shit out of him.

He’d automatically called TK and begged him to tell him what to do, or tell him what happened. But TK was quick to tell him that it was your story to share, and if you ever wanted Carter to know, you’d tell him. But that didn’t stop Carter from constantly worrying about the girl in front of him.

“You said you were going to make food,” You mumbled, poking Travis’s stomach.

“So needy.”

“You’re the one who decided to call me when I moved here,” You pointed out, “Brought this on yourself.”

“Fine,” Travis sighed dramatically, “What do you guys want?”

“Pasta!” You were quick to say, “A big heaping plate of that buttered garlic pasta you make.”

Travis smacked Nolan on his way over to the kitchen, telling him that he needed help. That left you and Carter all alone. You felt uncomfortable, because you didn’t know what to do. You weren’t sure how you were meant to even talk to him.

Everything just seemed too strange to you now.

“So, how’re classes going?” Carter asked you.

You shrugged and brought your knees up to your chest, “They’re alright. I’ll be happy when the break rolls around.”

He laughed, “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to the All Star break.”

You nodded. Travis and Nolan talked about how wonderful breaks were all the time. Their schedule was more than grueling, so you knew time off was more than precious for them. If they didn’t go off somewhere tropical to just relax, it was rare that they’d even leave their rooms.

Even in lower level juniors, your brother always treasured whatever time off he could get. Some of the things all of you would do during breaks were honestly astounding, and probably borderline illegal, but that was years ago.

“I’m sure.”

“You don’t really like hockey, do you?” He suddenly asked you.

“What? No! I love it.”

“Really? Sorry, you just don’t seem like it.”

You swallowed and tried to plan your reply, “No, I love it. I’ve grown up on it. It’s just my relationship with hockey is…..complicated.”

You felt like you might throw up. Having to explain it felt different. You could watch games just fine now, not that you always liked to watch in person, but you could watch them. You could talk about them, and give Travis shit for hours about things he’d done. But having to explain your reasonings for being why you were the way that you were...it seemed impossible.

He already saw you differently, you could tell by the way he looked at you. You were sure that he saw you as someone wounded and broken. You didn’t want him to have another reason to see you differently. Carter was one of the few people that didn’t know, and he didn’t need to know. You could keep him in the dark, you would keep him in the dark.

“I love hockey,” You said again, “I wouldn’t know Travis without it. I love hockey.”

“Okay,” His voice was calm, like he was trying to calm you, “Okay. I’m sorry I asked.”

You tried to blink away the burning feeling in your eyes. You weren’t going to cry. You weren’t going to show how much pain that simple question brought on. Your stomach churned and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

“I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a minute.”

However, rather than going to the hall bathroom, like you normally would. You quickly made your way back into Travis’s bathroom, far enough away from the living room that you wouldn’t be heard. Especially over the sound of Travis and Nolan in the kitchen, and the music they’d put on.

Without having a chance to try to stop it, you hunched over the toilet and threw up. You were shaking and crying. A simple question, one that no one else would’ve thought twice about. Any normal person would have a smile yes or no answer. You couldn’t answer simply though. Not without opening a door to something you liked to keep locked away.

You loved hockey….you just didn’t love what hockey had done to you.

#carter hart imagine #carter hart imagines #carter hart fanfic #carter hart fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #hockey fan fiction #hockey fanfiction #flyers imagines #flyers fanfic #flyers fanfiction #flyers imagine #nicolewritesthings

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hp-fanfic-archive · 3 years

Text

an introductory rec list (that no one asked for) to some of my favorite ships: wolfstar [1/10]

First fic I read for the pairing: Where Rain And Smoke Mingle by smallestbird [1k,T] It doesn't matter if they've disowned you, they're still your family. It doesn't matter how often you walk away, it still hurts. [it’s a bit dreary, but the writing style is so nice and i’m a big sucker for hurt/comfort]

Fic that really sold me on the pairing: Of Brothers and Boyfriends by Amuly [38k,E] There’s no summary on the fic, but, essentially, Remus and Sirius’s secret relationship gets found out and things get… complicated. (warning for homophobia) [My note on my ao3 bookmark pretty much sums up how I feel about this fic: Honestly one of my favorites (and one of the stories that really got me hooked on Wolfstar tbh) and I've read it at least eight times. However, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the homophobic James Potter (even though he does come around).]

Absolute favorite fic(s) for the pairing: Text Talk by merlywhirls [141k,Not Rated] Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number. (warnings for homophobia, mentions of abuse, and homophobic language) [One of the earlier fics I read and it’s always just been one of my favorites, even though it’s been 3 years since I read it for the first time.] Harry Potter and the Live Laugh Love Sign in the Basement by loudestfandomsoftheworld [24k,T] Harry spends his summer with his fugitive godfather and his former professor who is a jobless werewolf. It's probably the best summer he's ever had. [The humor, the characterizations, their relationships, it’s all so fucking perfect!!] Go East [+Podfic] by xinasvoice [84k,E] Remus has been running for a long time. Eventually, he runs into a strange castle built by a wizard and his young apprentice. The longer he stays, the more secrets he uncovers...and the less he wants to leave. This is a novel-length adventure story that loosely follows the plot of Howl's Moving Castle. It does not require knowledge of the HMC book or movie to enjoy it. [it made me laugh, it made me cry, and it’s plot is based on one of my all time favorite movies? 11/10] Of Queries and Quarantines by MoonCat457 [51k,E] LUPIN.RJ: James, WHY? POTTER.JF: Because you’re the one currently doing the job, so it makes sense that you’d be the one to train the person hired to take your place. LUPIN.RJ: No, I mean why is Monty hiring a new editor in the middle of a fucking pandemic? POTTER.JF: An old friend of mine is in a tough spot and needs a job, so of course, dad is helping him out. - - - - OR A story set in the middle of the pandemic in which Sirius is hired at the Potter’s publishing company and Remus is responsible for training him. Lots of texting, lots of video calls, lots of mutual pining, and a lot of really bad literature quotes. [i’ve largely avoided quarantine au fics, but sometimes they’re so well-written and hilarious and also a texting fic and i accidentally fall in love with them, so here we are.]

Most recent fic I’ve read for the pairing: There Is No Man, However Wise by enigmaticblue [87k,T] It’s 1988, Sirius has Harry, and possession is nine-tenths of the law. [i adore a good raising harry au and i also adore the premise of the series this is in and i also adore the writing story and characterizations. 10/10]

Favorite AU(s) I’ve read for the pairing: High School AU: Likewise Variable by ssstrychnine [28k,T] James has plans, Peter is the nurse, Sirius keeps fake blood up his sleeves, and Remus just tries to stay alive. [i first read this fic in 2017 and it still lives rent free in my mind. it’s hilarious, a perfect characterization of the marauders (even tho it’s a muggle modern high school au) and adding shakespeare? just icing on the fucking cake. it’s excellent.] University AU: Wannabe Your Lover by Maraudererasmut & shadow_prince [15k,M] Somewhere in America, Fall of 1997 - Returning to University, James refused to room with Sirius in the wake of The Great Cheez-it Battle of '96. They must adjust to living with someone new, Mr. Potter worried they'd both get scurvy, James unsuccessfully continued trying to court one Lily Evans, Snape got what was coming to him, and Sirius was the most confused of them all. [this is the university experience we all wish we had, lowkey. aside from the hilarity that comes from having the marauders in a fic, it’s just cute and well-written and i love it (and southern remus??? it’s everything i never knew i needed.] Alternate Sorting AU (Slytherin Remus): Half Agony, Half Hope by Barry_Manilows_Wardrobe [21k,E] A tale wherein Sirius Black loses 750 House Points for Gryffindor. But it’s totally worth it. [listen, if, before i read this fic, you asked me if remus could’ve been a slytherin, my answer would have been “perhaps but probably not.” now, however, yeah. 100%. it’s hilarious, it’s novel (which i love to see), but it’s still the same remus and sirius and it’s excellent.] Haunted House AU: Another Day in the Sun by REwrites [19k,T] Is it haunted? I suppose that depends on who is telling the story. [really really excellent and a little haunting (pun entirely intended). it’s romantic and sweet and a little bittersweet but i adore it.]

WIP(s) I really love for the pairing: We Were Infinite by WolfstarPups90 [336k,E] “The Marauders aren’t something that will just go away once we graduate.” James continued, taking a more serious tone and addressing not only Remus, but the fear that they all had found recently in the back of their minds about what may become of them outside the walls of Hogwarts. “We’re a family. We’ve proven that again and again, haven’t we? We’re forever. Unstoppable. We’re infinite.” The full story of The Marauders from September 1st 1971 - October 31st 1981. (Heavily centered around Wolfstar and Jily in later chapter) [the first WIP i ever read (usually i stick to completed works, but this was being pretty regularly updated when i started reading it and also it’s fucking iconic so what can i say?)] Of Leaves and Stars by irrationalmoony & LadyAmina [273k,T] Almost a year out of Hogwarts, Lily finally manages to convince Sirius and James to get more acquainted with muggle technology and buy phones. Sirius, of course, texts the wrong number. [everyone is queer! (as they well should be). also: is it complete? no. has that stopped me from reading it twice? also no.]

Favorite Series for the pairing: TransVerse by picascribit [30k,E,2 works] Canon-divergent AU in which Remus is a transgender boy instead of being a werewolf. (warnings for underage, transphobia, internalized transphobia, bullying, self-harm) [i am a trans remus stan and this series is iconic, but also heed the tags kids.]

Longest fic I’ve read for the pairing: Once in a Blue Moon by FullMoonDreams [408k,M] In a world where Remus never received his Hogwarts invitation and Sirius wasn't accepted by the Gryffindors the two lonely boys become friends. A story beginning in their first year, and continuing right through Hogwarts and beyond. RLSB. [this fic emotionally ruined me,,, but like,,, in a good way, you know? i will probably never reread it because i cried for hours the first time, but the plot does live rent free in my mind (and i do have a playlist of songs that remind me of it).]

Fic(s) with some of my favorite tropes: Matchmaking: Pining, Parchment, Plotting, and Pranks by KayBee1762 [12k,T] “Idea parchment,” James said. He unfolded it and smoothed it out. “You want to get them together, right? That’s why you came to me?” “Yeah,” Lily huffed, which was ridiculous because he was right, that’s why she came to him. But it was supposed to be her idea, because she wanted to help her dear friend Remus, not James or Sirius. But it was so nice to be able to talk about this with someone, and James looked so pleased and excited. “Good,” James said. “Good, because they need to get together, they would be so happy and so good together, and Sirius will stop sighing like a lovesick puppy and just snog him instead.” In which Lily considers changing Houses, James blushes a lot, Sirius is his usual dramatic self, Remus mopes, and Peter knew everything all along. [the marauders (especially james and lily) trying to play matchmaker is one of my favorite instances of the classic matchmaking trope.] Road Trips + Bed Sharing: Of Comets and Counter-Examples by Woldy [5k,T] If the past is a foreign country, can travel help to resolve a troubled history? Dumbledore assigns Remus and Sirius a mission to explore three European cities, or perhaps to find each other. [a lovely tale of travel, reunions, comfort, friendship, and self-rediscovery. plus, travel, bed sharing, and friends to lovers??? yeah] Matchmaking (again): In The Middle by Blossomwitch [3k,Not Rated] James is the natural confidant of both Remus and Sirius. When they both swear him to secrecy on the same topic, James is stuck watching his friends pine for each other without being able to say a word to bring them together. A lesser man might shrink from the challenge of finding a way to break his promise without breaking his promise, but not James Potter! [i already did a matchmaking trope fic i know but what can i say other than the trope fucking slaps and so does this fic.]

#wolfstar #remus/sirius #sirius/remus #wolfstar fic rec #wolfstar fic rec list #intro to my fav ships rec list #hp fic rec #hp fic rec list #queue is for quibbler

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clumsyclifford · 4 years

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“ok you’ve been trying to put on that eyeliner almost the entire bus ride and you’re strugglin, so i’ma help you out” can you please maybe do this as a malum au?

anon this is. genuinely this is four months late and i am so sorry for that NFKDJGMKGLJ but on the bright side i didn’t forget !!!!!!

anyway i would like to add that this fic is sneakily (heavily) inspired by Influencer by littleficlets on ao3 yes i’ve talked about it a hundred times before no i will never stop anyway. please enjoy this silliness and keep in mind that when i started writing it it WAS pride month so it made a little bit more sense. just. pretend it’s still june. and like. that there’s no virus adfgjfkgjkgjdf

“You’re going to blind people,” Michael tells Luke as he dabs glitter on his cheekbones.

Luke frowns briefly at him before returning to his reflection. “You’re just jealous.”

“I’m serious. There are lights on you, like, for most of the show. You’re going to blind all of our fans.”

“With your beauty,” Ashton (un)helpfully contributes from his bunk, where he’s doing something that’s probably makeup, but Michael’s not sure. “And overall sexiness.”

“Thank you,” Luke says.

“No,” Michael says. “With your fucking glitter. We already know you’re gay, Luke.”

“It’s pride month,” Luke says, pouting. “I’ll be as gay as I want.”

Michael rolls his eyes. Like Luke needs to keep telegraphing that he likes guys. But if that’s how he wants to express himself, fine. He can glitter it up all he likes.

Michael doesn’t feel like he needs to go all out with the pride makeup, but Luke had kind of insisted that they do a pride makeup night at least one night of June, so here they all are, in various states of undress as the tour bus chugs along, and occupying every mirror or iPhone front-facing camera in a desperate attempt to put on makeup on a moving bus. It’s not easy.

On the bright side, Michael had had the foresight to do most of his own makeup before they hit the terrible roads. Now the bus keeps jerking, and every so often they’ll hear Ashton cry out “Ow! Fuck!” after the bus jolts one way or the other. His own fault for trying to do makeup in his bunk. Michael is pretty sure he’s trying to, like, save his look so he can stun Luke, but more power to him.

Luke will drool over him no matter what anyway, so it’s a pretty futile effort, but whatever.

Anyway, Michael’s more invested in what Calum is up to. Calum, sweet, beautiful Calum, who has been staring at his own reflection in his phone screen for about ten minutes, trying again and again to put on his eyeliner. They learned early on in the process of experimenting with makeup that you should do your eyeliner last, but thankfully Calum hadn’t heeded that warning, because whatever other makeup he might have put on would have been wiped away with Calum’s first failed attempt at eyeliner.

In the beginning it’s kind of hilarious, watching Calum struggle. Michael loves him — honest — but the sounds of increasing frustration as he keeps fucking up are hysterical. It doesn’t help that he looks kind of silly every time his hand jerks from a sudden bus movement that draws a long black line next to his eye. But now it’s going on ten, maybe twelve minutes, and at least Luke’s made progress with his glitter. Calum is still sitting there on the couch, looking more determined and fed up than ever, eyeliner pencil poised next to his face.

Michael takes pity. He’s not a monster.

“Hey,” he says, sitting next to Calum.

“Not now,” Calum says.

“Don’t be rude,” Michael says. “Let me help you.”

“Absolutely not.” Calum briefly lifts his eyes from his phone screen to glare at Michael. “You’ll just draw a dick on my face.”

“Well, that can’t look worse than what you’ve got going on.”

Calum turns the glare up.

“I’m joking,” Michael says. “Look, you’ve already got raccoon eyes from all your failed attempts. Let me just do it for you. I’ve been doing eyeliner for, like, six years. I’m a pro.”

Calum gives him a skeptical look. “Your eyeliner in 2014 was awful.”

“Yeah, but I’ve improved,” Michael wheedles. “Please. I’m begging you. It’s agony watching you fail this much.”

“You love watching me fail,” Calum grumbles, but he drops his phone into his lap and caps the eyeliner pen, and Michael knows he’s gaining ground.

“Yeah, but I also love proving that I’m so much better at something than you are.” Michael holds out a hand. “Gimme.”

Calum looks cross, but he hands over the eyeliner pen. Victorious, Michael sets it aside and says, “Let me take off all this leftover smudgy stuff first,” and pulls a makeup wipe from the open pack between Calum’s knees. Calum sighs, as if Michael’s not doing him an immense favor, and looks up at the roof of the tour bus so Michael can get at the black smudges under his eyes.

“Cute,” Michael says when he’s finished. Calum blinks a bunch and then looks at the makeup wipe, streaked in black. “Can I blow on your face?”

“Keep it PG!” Luke chides over his shoulder. Michael flips him off.

“Don’t blow on my face,” Calum says.

“The makeup wipe stuff needs to dry before I can put your eyeliner on.”

“So let it air dry.”

“That’ll take too long.”

“Patience is a virtue, Mikey.”

“You would know,” Michael says sagely. “You did try for almost fifteen minutes to put on this eyeliner, after all.”

If looks could kill, Michael would be a goner.

"I'm breaking up with you and suing for emotional damages," Calum says.

"You don't mean that," Michael says, leaning in to sweep a fluttering kiss on the tip of Calum's nose.

"Try me," Calum mutters.

Michael decides to let him be bitter for the moment, because priorities. "At least dry your face off."

Calum pulls his t-shirt over his face and wipes aggressively at it. "Good?"

Michael grins. "Aw, baby's learning to follow orders."

"Shut the fuck up."

"You love me," Michael says, and then, "Don't speak, you'll mess me up." Calum rolls his eyes. "And don't move or I'll stab your eye."

Calum huffs. Michael waits for him to still before leaning in with the eyeliner pencil. It's true he'd been pretty bad at eyeliner back in 2014, but Michael hadn't been lying when he'd said he's improved. That's mostly thanks to Lou teaching him the proper way to put it on, during the Where We Are Tour, but Michael has also practiced enough times to feel confident as he puts the pencil to Calum's face. It's also easier because it's not liquid eyeliner; that's a whole different boss battle.

Calum stays dutifully quiet as Michael works, breathing hot against Michael's wrist but saying nothing. Michael can't help but feel like this is weirdly intimate, which is strange since they've literally fucked, but somehow this feels deeper. The fact that Calum trusts him with a semi-sharp object near his face is pretty profound. Luke would never.

Finally, Michael pulls back, admiring his own handiwork. "Damn," he says. "You look hot."

Calum's lips pull into a smile, although he's obviously trying not to. "Thanks," he says. "I'll take it from here."

"You do kinda look hot," Luke puts in. Apparently he's finally finished his glitter and is now standing next to the couch.

"Don't call Calum hot, I wanna see!" Ashton calls out.

"Then come out here, asshole!"

"You come here!"

"Nope, sorry," Calum replies, grinning. "Just have to wait and see."

“I’m done anyway,” Ashton grumbles, and a moment later there’s a clattering noise. Ashton clumsily slips out of the bunk and straightens up, stretching his arms above his head. Michael’s pretty sure he hears something crack.

Luke whistles lowly. “Shit.”

Finally Ashton’s gaze lands on Luke, and he smiles bashfully. “You look good.”

“You look amazing for someone who did all of his makeup in an unlit bunk on a moving tour bus,” Luke returns, tripping over himself to pull Ashton into a kiss. Michael rolls his eyes. At least Ashton’s efforts have been rewarded.

Michael, on the other hand.

He brings his eyes back to Calum’s, still kind of floored by how good he looks with eyeliner, with the way it makes his eyes even more intense. “Are you gonna kiss me?”

“Not if you’re a little bitch about it,” Calum says, but he’s already leaning in, one hand warm against the back of Michael’s neck.

“Hey,” comes Ashton’s voice a moment later. “Let me see Calum.”

Michael breaks away irritably. “Can you not? We’re trying to make out here.”

“Hey, you do look hot,” Ashton tells Calum, ignoring Michael. Michael hits his leg.

“Go away, asshole,” he says. “Leave us alone.”

Ashton grins. “Don’t worry, Mike, you look hot too.”

“I know that,” Michael says, although he takes the compliment to heart anyway, because he likes when people think he looks good, and he values Ashton’s opinion more than most.

(His own boyfriend excepted, obviously.)

“I need to finish doing my eyes anyway,” Calum says, giving Michael a quick kiss on the cheek. “Or you can do it, if you’re so inclined.”

“I am,” Michael decides. He smiles and reaches for the glittery eyeshadow pot balanced on Calum’s thigh. “You’re so pretty, you know.”

Calum blushes, deep red. “Stop it.”

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” Michael says quietly, “with or without makeup. I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.”

Calum exhales, smiling as Michael reaches for his face. His eyes flutter shut and Michael sweeps the shiny eyeshadow over his eyelids. “Love you,” is all he says, and Michael smiles, too, because that’s really what he’d been getting at.

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