#earlier this afternoon i was lying down and she was sleeping on my chest and i started wondering when cats first form memories | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clangenrising · 4 months

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Month 11 - Leafbare

The days in the house had blurred together, a dizzying game of fear and delight. Scorch was like a feather on a string. One minute she was drifting along, enjoying the warmth of an occupied bed or a scratch at the base of her tail and the next her heart was hammering in her chest at the smallest glimpse of a blue tail weaving through her garden. Thankfully for her, it was always Mystique, but she was still ashamed that her body seemed to have a mind of its own now. She had to focus on her breathing to try and get back to a semblance of normal before Mystique arrived at her window.

One of these times, Mystique had asked her, “Everything alright?”

And she’d fumbled when she’d replied, “Oh, yes, for a second I just thought you were…” She’d had enough sense to stop there but she’d been struggling for what to say next.

“Razor?” Mystique had laughed. “That happens more than you’d think. He’s my older brother, you know.”

“Really?” Scorch’s chest had tightened again. How much danger was she in?

“Yeah,” said Mystique. “Same mother at least.”

“I can see it,” Scorch had smiled despite herself. “You have his… ears.”

Mystique had laughed again, wincing. “Wow, you couldn’t think of a single compliment, could you?”

Scorch had flushed. “No, no, I just-”

“It’s fine,” Mystique had waved her off. “He can be a bit of a dick.”

“He has his charms,” Scorch had lied.

“Yeah,” Mystique had purred, looking out over the snowy lawn, and the conversation had moved on to other things but Scorch had been unsettled by the interaction. She was off her game. Her tongue was starting to escape from her and she needed to get it back under control. She stewed on it for a few days, tried to figure out the reason why, and ultimately concluded that she was too comfortable. Her new life as a House Cat had disarmed her and she needed to rediscover her armor one way or another.

She started prowling at the doors, looking for a way out. When her folk passed by she looked up at them and asked, “Excuse me, High One. I would very much like to get outside if that’s alright.” They crooned and meowed back at her with garbled nonsense words but never granted her request.

She started pleading at any given moment - while they were settling down for sleep, when they were making food in the morning, when they were watching the magic window in the living room. “Please, let me go outside. I promise I’ll come back.” She was lying of course, if she got the chance she would probably make a quick retreat to Clan territory. If she was lucky, it might not be too late to get Goldenstar to abandon camp and head for the hills.

One afternoon, both of the kit Folk called for her and, when she dutifully arrived, she was gifted a sparkling blue collar with a jingling silver bell and a star shaped Name Charm.

“Thank you,” she said, butting up against the eldest’s chin. The kit folk giggled and scooped her into their arms, heading through the house. She winced and squirmed into a more comfortable position while she tried not to let her excitement get the better of her. Were they heading for the door? Had her prayers paid off?

The kit folk approached the back garden door and slid it open. Scorch couldn’t help it - she squirmed and leapt from their arms to make a break for the outside. The kits giggled but didn’t leap to stop her and her spirit soared in jubilation. She was free! They watched her as she sniffed around the grass, carefully testing the snow. Mystique had been by earlier, judging by the smell, and now that she was outside she could pick up the scent of a nearby dog, probably from the next yard over. She gave one last glance to her Folk. She realized with a twinge of sorrow that she was going to miss them.

“Thank you,” she mewed in a voice they could hear. “You were very good to me.” The younger of the two squatted down and extended a hand to offer her pets, babbling in the human tongue. The offer was tempting, but Scorch forced herself to turn around and slink towards the nearest bush for some cover. She didn’t need to make this any harder for herself by lingering. She needed to move, and quickly.

The bell around her neck was an annoyance. It took a nontrivial amount of effort to move quietly while wearing it. After a few steps through the branches of the shrubbery, she stopped to try and pry the thing off of her neck. It was harder than she expected. She fell onto her side, kicked at it with her hind claws, rolled and writhed trying to find some purchase on it. She growled in frustration as the jingling only increased.

“Stupid… collar!” she spat, sitting up and shaking out her pelt.

“You alright in there?” said Mystique, poking her head in through the leaves. So much for slipping away unnoticed.

“Oh, I’m quite alright,” she laughed. “Just a bit… stifled. How can you stand wearing these things?” Mystique chuckled and moved closer, leaning in to smooth the fur around Scorch’s collar with her tongue. Scorch sucked in a breath and held very still until she stepped back.

“You get used to them,” said Mystique, “although the feeling never really goes away.” Scorch frowned. The constant pressure around her neck was maddening.

“I guess I’ll just have to live with it then,” she sighed.

“Congratulations on getting let out, by the way!” Mystique brightened. “I know that the Sheltered are like… favored by the Folk and everything, but I personally think we have it better out here.”

“Definitely,” Scorch nodded. “I don’t think I could spend the rest of my life in such a small space.”

“Right?” Mystique grinned. “They say it's easier if you’re born into it but I was born a house cat and I can’t imagine my life if I couldn’t go outside. Like, being a precious little thing all pretty on a pillow? It would be so annoying. I’d much rather hunt and wrestle with the guys.”

“Mm,” Scorch smiled, not sharing the urge to wrestle with any of the city cats in the slightest. “It’s the exploration for me. I just like to wander.”

“I get that,” Mystique said.

“Speaking of,” Scorch took a step, “I think I’d like to look around the neighborhood. Orient myself, you know? It was nice talking to you though.”

“Oh,” Mystique’s ears flicked backwards briefly. “Actually, I think I should come with you.”

Scorch chuckled and swished her tail. “I can assure you, my dear, I’ll be just fine on my own. I haven’t forgotten how to handle myself so quickly.”

“Of course not,” Mystique shook her head, “but a little extra protection can’t hurt.”

“I’m fine, really,” Scorch said, pushing down her irritation, “but I appreciate the concern. Maybe we can go walking together tomorrow?”

Mystique chewed her lip a bit and shook her head. “Nah… Sorry, I wanted to keep it casual but I’m under orders to keep you company, make sure no one gives you trouble.” There it was. Scorch should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. Of course Razor would want someone to keep eyes on her after her little disappearing act. What an honor for him to choose his own sister to do it.

“I see,” she laughed. “Does Razor really think I need a kitsitter?”

“Not a kitsitter,” Mystique shook her head and straightened her posture with a confident grin. “Think of me more as your personal bodyguard. You can order me around if you like, I know that you enjoy that.”

Scorch chuckled in embarrassment, “Oh, dear, is that really what people think?” They were right of course but she had hoped she was better at hiding it.

“Nothing wrong with it,” Mystique said. “You just knew you were Exalted in your bones.”

“Maybe so,” Scorch said. Her mind was turning. Think! she chided herself, There’s got to be some way you can wriggle out of this. “Well, shall we walk?”

“I’d be honored, my lady,” Mystique chuckled with a bow.

With that the two of them set off. The walk was pleasant enough - it was nice to breathe fresh air and stretch her bones and see the city sprawling out before her again - and with Mystique by her side most cats left them alone, but an opportunity to slip away from her chaperone never presented itself. By the end of the night, Mystique returned her to her Folk and headed off with a cheery wave of her tail once Scorch was safely inside.

Scorch tried to beg to be let out again after meal time but the Folk shook their heads and gave her scritches and held her close while they watched the magic window. She sighed. She would have to try again tomorrow. Or the next day. The longer she waited, the more likely it was that Razor would return. She had to be gone before then.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Scorchplume #Mystique #Leafbare #clangenrising

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maconthepen · 7 months

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Ambition.

I’ve been thinking about ambition lately.

In my twenties, I seemed to have it in spades. Somehow — and in hindsight, I have no idea how — I managed to make it through two university degrees and forge myself a six-figure career. I never stopped, not for a minute. When I was studying, I had a job. When I wasn’t, I had two jobs, sometimes three. None of that is to say I didn’t have fun. I approached my social life with the same dogged dedication as my work. If someone were throwing a party, I would be there. If my friends wanted a Sunday picnic, I’d make a pie and buy the snacks. If there were beers to be had at the pub, I would rush to drink them.

Earlier this year, when I was thirty-one, lying in bed, and one bad thought away from killing myself, I considered ambition a pointless and tiring thing. I was a fast flame, and I’d burned out. What good could the old chase — for money, for success, for the kind of life my mother wanted for me — do? All it had given me so far was an endless urge to sleep and some premature streaks of grey hair.

But September passed into October and it became clear I’d been thinking about it all wrong.

When people think of me after I die, I don’t want them to think of tireless work. The word ambition shouldn’t even cross their minds.

I want to be remembered in the small ways.

I want someone to think of a story I wrote that left a gaping chasm in their chest.

I want Andrew to remember sitting in Waxy O’Connor’s with me, drinking IPAs and planning how to get him out of his overdraft on bar napkins. I want him to remember the black ink bleeding as I wrote down tiny numbers and dates around a bit of mass-printed Celtic art.

I want Rob to remember the jokes I cracked watching Star Trek for the first time; how he once laughed so hard he choked on his tea and had to pause The Corbomite Maneuvre on that ugly baby alien face until he stopped crying with mirth.

I want Amanda to remember standing in our London kitchen, eating a dinner of discounted prosciutto straight out of a pack while we yelled for the cat to come back inside for the night.

I want Rachel…well. I want Rachel to remember everything, but especially that terrible afternoon when I was lying in bed despite the beautiful weather, and she crawled beside me, put her hand in my hair and said, “There will be other sunny days. Don’t make yourself feel worse, my love.”

I want my name to decorate the spine of an obscure history book. I want that book to sit on a bookshelf in the room I studied fourth-year history in — the one on The Scores with the big bay window and a sunken pink couch — and I don’t want people to recognise my name unless they are deep into an obsession with the intellectual history of nineteenth-century Russia or something equally as tragic and niche.

I don’t want strangers to know my face.

Maybe I’ll put this in a letter one day. Slide it into my will, just for a lark.

Remember the bar napkins, I’ll say. Remember how I crooned at the cat stepping through the window. Remember me on The Scores as winter’s sun set, talking about Nina Simone and liberation. But if you don’t remember any of that, it’s all right. At least it gave me something to live for.

#writing #original writing #mental health #recovery #trauma #tw suicide mention

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fuzzyducktyphoon · 5 months

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Killua x Mika x Hoodie brawl 👕👕

Killua was sitting on the chair waiting for Mika after she was late in returning home... It was midnight now after Mika finally entered and found Killua with a cold and annoyed face.

“Have you not slept yet Killua...I told you not to wait for me?”

Mika says as she takes off her shoes

Killua looked at Mika, his eyes cold and unyielding.

"I told you to be back by 10. It's now midnight,"

he said, his voice low and threatening.

"You're lucky I didn't go looking for you."

"And no, I haven't slept yet,"

he continued, still glaring at her.

"If you hadn't kept me up with your incessant chatter earlier, maybe I would have been able to get some rest."

“Don't put the blame on me...you know I work hard,”

Mika says as she approaches him and crosses her arms

Killua scoffed at Mika's words.

"Work hard? You call that work?"

He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"All you do is talk and socialize all day long. I should have known better than to expect anything from someone like you."

He turned away from her, trying to hide the frustration he felt. But he couldn't help but mutter under his breath,

"And another thing, if you're going to be out so late, at least have the decency to text or call me."

“Why, are you afraid for me or what?”

she teases him.

Killua's face flushed red at Mika's teasing, his anger momentarily forgotten.

"I am not afraid!"

He retorted sharply.

"It's just common courtesy to let someone know where you are."

He took a deep breath to calm himself down before continuing.

"Besides, I have things to do too,"

he said through gritted teeth.

"And having to wait up for you all the time is really starting to get on my nerves."

"Oh, don't lie. You're worried about me, haha. You know I'm strong,"

Mika says, making a cute defensive move.

Killua rolled his eyes at Mika's antics.

"I'm not lying,"

he insisted, trying to ignore the way her words were getting under his skin.

"And yes, I know you're strong. But that doesn't mean you can just do whatever you want without considering others."

He sighed heavily, feeling like they were going in circles again.

"Look, let's just try and get some sleep,"

he suggested reluctantly.

"We have a big day tomorrow with training and all."

“Wait, I have something for you,”

Mika says as she takes out a black hoodie from the bag,

“I bought it for you, haha.”

She holds it up to him.

Killua's eyes narrowed at the sight of the black hoodie. It looked comfortable and stylish at the same time, something that he would definitely wear. But he knew better than to show any enthusiasm around Mika.

"I don't need any gifts from you,"

he said coldly, looking away from the hoodie.

"Just try and remember your curfew from now on."

Mika looks at the hoodie and looks down sadly...

“Okay,”

she says as she puts the hoodie on the sofa and goes into the bathroom and closes the door.

Killua watched as Mika put the hoodie on the sofa and went into the bathroom. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for being so harsh with her, even if she did deserve it.

He sighed heavily and got up from his chair, walking over to the couch. With a quick glance at the bathroom door, he picked up the black hoodie and held it close to his chest. It smelled like Mika, which only served to annoy him more.

As he sat back down in his chair, he resolved to ignore Mika for the rest of the night and focus on getting some sleep.

(The next day)

As the sun rose over the training grounds, Killua continued to practice his Nen with Gon and Zushi. His focus was sharp, his mind clear of any thoughts of the previous night's argument with Mika.

The training was intense, and the air was thick with the sounds of their Nen exercises. Killua felt himself growing stronger with every strike and every movement.

By mid-afternoon, Killua, Gon, and Zushi were sweaty and exhausted from their training. They took a much-needed break to catch their breath and rehydrate.

"So, where's Mika today?"

Zushi asked between gulps of water.

"She didn't train with us today ."

"She probably just slept in,"

Killua muttered, not taking his eyes off the tree line where they'd seen a few birds fly off earlier. He was still annoyed with her and didn't want to talk about her.

But Zushi wasn't deterred.

"She didn't answer when we called her this morning either,"

he said, frowning.

"Do you"

Killua scowled at Zushi.

"I don't know,"

he said through gritted teeth.

"And I really couldn't care less."

He turned his attention back to the tree line, hoping to catch another glimpse of a bird or some other wildlife that might distract him from Mika and her annoying habits.

But as much as he tried to focus on the training and their surroundings, thoughts of Mika kept creeping back into his mind.

By late afternoon, Killua was tired and hungry.

While they were walking, Killua was looking at Zushi.

"What's wrong?"

Killua asked, concern lacing his voice.

Zushi shook his head, coming out of his reverie.

"Nothing...it's just...Mika isn't answering our calls anymore,"

he admitted quietly.

"I hope she's okay."

Killua paused outside Mika's door, his hand hovering over the knob. He knew she was still upset with him, but he also couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong.

After a few moments of hesitation, he turned the knob slowly and stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click

The room was quiet, the only sound the gentle rustling of curtains as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the window. Mika's bed was unmade, her sheets and pillows tossed haphazardly to the side. Her backpack was still by the door, untouched since they'd returned from training.

Killua moved cautiously towards Mika's bed, his heart racing with a strange mixture of dread and concern. He didn't want to find anything wrong with her, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

As he reached the side of her bed, he gently nudged her shoulder.

"Mika?"

He whispered.

"Are you okay?"

“What do you want?”

Mika says, turning her back to him .

Killua's eyes widened at Mika's sharp tone. He hadn't meant to startle her, but his worry was getting the better of him.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay,"

he said quietly, taking a tentative step closer.

"You haven't been answering our calls all day."

Mika let out a frustrated sigh and rolled over to face him. Her expression softened slightly as she saw the concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine,"

she said, though it sounded more like a forced assertion than an actual statement of well-being.

"I just needed some time alone, okay?"

Killua knows that she is still angry because he rejected the gift of the hoodie. He looked at the sofa and found that the hoodie was still there. It was purple, Killua's favorite color.

Killua's eyes darted towards the sofa, noting the black hoodie still sitting on top of it. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for being so dismissive of Mika's gift.

"Look,"

he said, clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry about how I reacted to your gift."

He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"It was just...a lot going on and I didn't handle it well."

Mika looked at him skeptically, but didn't interrupt.

"I should have been more understanding,"

Killua went on.

"And I definitely shouldn't have made you feel bad about it. It's just...you know how much I like purple."

He shrugged sheepishly.

There was silence in the room for a moment as they both processed what had been said. Finally, Mika let out a sigh.

"Fine,"

she said reluctantly.

Killua reached over and carefully picked up the Violet hoodie, holding it out in front of him. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious as he slipped it on, aware that Mika was watching him.

The fabric was soft against his skin, and he had to admit that it did look good on him. He pulled the hood over his head, hiding his face from Mika as he adjusted the fit.

"Thank you,"

he mumbled into the hood.

"For the gift."

There was another moment of silence before Mika spoke.

"You're welcome,"

she said quietly.

They sat there in an awkward silence for a few more moments before Killua stood up.

"Well,"

he said, clearing his throat.

"I guess I'll see you around, then."

Mika nodded, not looking at him as he left the room. As the door closed behind him, she let out a sigh and leaned back against her pillows,

As the door to Killua's room clicked shut, he let out a slow breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He walked over to his bed and sat down heavily, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

But even as he tried to push away thoughts of Mika, he couldn't help but lean forward and take a deep whiff of the Violet hoodie. It smelled like her, warm and inviting, and for a moment, he just closed his eyes and savored the scent.

He knew they had a long way to go before they could be anything more than annoying roommates, but for now, he would enjoy this small victory - accepting Mika's gift without any arguments.

With a soft smile on his face, Killua reached into his drawer and pulled out a picture of Alluka, tucking it underneath the fabric of the hoodie so she would always be close to him.

#hunterxhun hunterxhunterfan hunterxhunterhisoka hxh hunterxhunter killuazoldyck mika_406gonfreecs gongyoohxhoc mika_yuki_hunter

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racke7 · 6 months

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For nearly a month now, I've been ill.

The first week, it amounted to a slightly sore throat and a very mild cough. So then I went back to work the next monday, and had my sore throat become a bit more noticeable during the afternoon.

That tuesday, I spent the whole morning coughing, so I said "nah, I'm staying home today". But I had a thing to do on wednesday, and I didn't feel like shit anymore so off I went to work. And of course, on the drive home from the project, my voice violently imploded.

That thursday, my cough had moved from my upper throat, straight into somewhere in my lungs. So I said "fuck that, I'm staying home for the rest of the week".

The next monday, I was wary enough of everything that I just said fuck it and called in sick immediately. Then, during the afternoon, my stomach started to hurt a bit, but whatever. Then, at midnight, I woke up with my stomach-pain being worse, but I could still manage to go back to sleep so-... and then I woke up an hour later still in pain.

So, at 3am, I crawled out of bed and made my way to the ER (because it was pain vaguely similar and roughly in the same area as where my appendix had been hurting earlier this year). The ER said "we don't know what the fuck that is, but it isn't your appendix, and probably won't kill you, go home".

So I did, and got a time at the local clinic later in the day. But after waiting for nearly two hours, and with the promise that "waiting on the doctor" would mean "a lot more hours", I shrugged and went home after just a few tests and a new time with a physiotherapist who "might help" (the pain in my stomach hadn't stopped, but it wasn't that bad).

The pain in my stomach finally started to lessen at some point during wednesday. Not disappear, but lessen. Thursday was the physiotherapist time, and apparently my stomach-muscles are a bit out-of-phase with each other? Though considering how one of my sides had been in pain for going on 60+ hours at that time, I dunno if I entirely trust that assessment.

(Also, so far, the only assumption made seems to be that I'd "strained a muscle" in my stomach. Though how the hell I'd managed that without also getting "proximity pain" when he touched the attachment-points for my muscles, or how I'd managed to strain it from lying in bed? Not the most trustworthy of diagnosis, I feel.)

Regardless, I stayed home for friday too (stomach-pain was nearly gone, sore throat was still there).

Was planning on going back to work on monday, but realized two things late sunday evening: 1, my throat was still hurting; 2, the doctor wanted me to take a bunch of tests for a third thing (my spine, which keeps getting inflamed, and which they're now refusing to give me an extension for my pills for), and the clinic that I was supposed to take those tests at opened at 9 (job starts at 7, half an hour away). So I asked my boss, and he said "take that day off".

Was stuck in a waiting-room for a lot of hours for the sake of a five-minute thing, and then came back home. Throat had been a bit sore, but not really anything worthy of note, so tuesday here I come-...

I woke up on tuesday and coughed for three fucking hours straight.

Boss wasn't very happy ("you can still work if you just have a cough"), but fuck him, I stayed home. Felt a lot better on wednesday and went to work. Felt like I had a bit of a sore throat by the end of the day.

Woke up thursday and my cough was back in my lungs. And I coughed enough at one point that I came close enough to trigger a gag-reflex that I went "there's a bucket in the other room, I should bring it closer" before it died down.

Friday (today)? I stayed home, in part because I'm still fucking coughing, and in part because I'm also feeling a pain in my chest from coughing so hard yesterday. Also had a call with my doctor where she made a lot of awkward noises about me being home sick for a full month with "just a cough" (especially since apparently no infections or inflammations showed up in the blood-work), and "without a proper examination" (I get that you're massively understaffed, but like... you're the one who didn't care to check me for either my cough or my unknown source of stomach-pain).

So... feeling more than a bit frustrated at all of this bullshit about my physical health (and massively sleep-deprieved because I couldn't fall asleep last night) I sat down and revived my "cough-monitoring excel-sheet".

As in, the excel-sheet I made after a very persistent lingering cough after having caught the flue, right before covid hit (meaning that everyone said "cough? stay home").

Checking on that, I was coughing maybe 10-20 times a day early on (roughly around 1-cough/40-minutes), and 3-4 by the end of it.

I started recording my coughs today at 1pm, and my cough is most strong during the morning.

I'm up to 21 coughs. Roughly 1-cough/10-minutes.

... I dunno if this has been really bad today, or if that's actually mostly normal? Because if it's normal, then I should definitely fucking not be working.

#personal stuff #rants #health #my throat feels a bit like... i like singing you know? i sing along to everything. i PHYSICALLY REFUSE to sing. it's instinctively Bad.#that's where my voice/throat is at. and where it has been all this time.#but like fever? a ''general sickness feeling''? no? my throat just feels fucked. and i cough.#but like... during that first week? and during most weekends? it's almost nonexistent. just a... ''don't sing''-feeling #so i keep trying to figure out if ''is my symptom gone bcs i'm relaxed. or is it gone bcs i'm cured'' and i think it's stressing me out

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quindolyn · 3 years

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Could you do a marauders x reader fluff?? Like a poly relationship and it’s like Valentine’s Day or sumthing love ur writing <3

Armfuls of Sunshine || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 2365

A/N: It’s not really valentines day in the fic or any holiday like that, it’s just that swim weather is setting in for me and I want a lazy day at the lake with the boys so this is completely self indulgent. I know I haven’t been writing a lot I’ve just been a bit overwhelmed and I wish I could say that this is a sign that my life is mellowing out but I’m afraid that it is actually to the contrary. In summary, don’t get your hopes up

Warnings: hastily written, tired while written, fem reader, kisses, lake day so reader is wearing a swimsuit, mentions of Remus’ body image issues and allusions to Sirius’ past abuse from his parents

Masterlist

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back to rest against Sirius’ shoulder who sat behind you with you between his legs. Sitting by the Black Lake he was shirtless, you adorned only in a modest two piece swimsuit leaving the skin of your belly exposed so that Sirius could trace shapes along the soft skin. With your back pressed to his chest and the sun’s rays hitting your front you were surrounded by warmth, like a nice little cocoon you were tucked into.

With your head against his shoulder you left the side of your neck open, vulnerable, allowing him to drip down wordlessly and brush his lips over the delicate skin before finding your sweet spot on the back of your neck and nipping lightly, his hands moving to grip your hips so you couldn’t squirm out of the hold he had on you.

“Siri!” You giggled, feeling Sirius grin into the side of your neck, getting just the reaction out of you that he had wanted.

“Shhh Puppy,” He whispered condescendingly in your ear, “Gotta be quiet, can’t wake up Jamie,” He nodded his head over to your right where just mere inches from you laid the slumbering boy, all messy black curls, hazel eyes, and with a physique that had you weak in the knees every time you saw him.

Currently his back was on display for you as he laid on his stomach, his hands resting beneath his forehead acting as a pillow, you admired the way the sunlight illuminated his skin and you could see the muscles subtly shift under that skin as he breathed deeply in his sleep.

Watching him, you became aware of just how hot the sun had gotten in the hour or so the three of you had been lounging out there, waiting for Remus to finish up his prefect duties so that the four of you could go cool off in the water together.

“We should wake him up, Siri,” You voiced, lifting yourself slightly from his lap in attempts to wake up James but quickly strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you back down to the spot between his muscled thighs.

“Oh come on baby, you don’t wanna do that, you know how grumpy the baby gets when you wake him up from a nap,” He murmured this mockingly into your neck, hoping that the boy he spoke of wouldn’t be able to hear him but as James let out a disgruntled groan and began to fidget you knew he was waking up.

Ignoring Sirius’ snarky remark, you leaned forward once more, this time Sirius’ hands just keeping a steady hold on your hips while making no effort to pull you back.

“Hey baby,” You crooned, supporting your weight on one hand pressed firmly to the ground while the other moved to bury itself deep in James’ locks, scratching with your nails the way you know he liked on his scalp, smiling at the content grunt the boy let out at your ministrations.

Gazing down at him you let your eyes scan his back once more, frowning as you noticed the slight pink tinge beginning to taint his skin, a precursor to what could be a wicked sunburn if not properly prevented. Letting your hand slip from his scalp you ran it down his neck and down his back, he was warmer than he should’ve been, it wasn’t just ‘laying in the sun’ kinda warm it was ‘beginning to fry’ kinda hot.

“Jamie,” You muttered again, louder this time so that you might be able to get more of his attention, “Jamie, wake up.”

“Hmmm?” He hummed, turning onto his side so that he was facing you, eyes slowly blinking open, squinting as they were flooded with the harsh light of the warm sun. He scooched himself so that he was still lying on his side but so that his head was resting against the hard planes of Sirius’ thigh, nuzzling into the soft skin half covered by his swim shorts which stopped at his mid thigh.

“You’re starting to get sunburned Jamie, can’t have our pretty boy getting hurt,” You explained to him the reason for your disturbance, returning your hand to his hair as he inched up the material of Sirius’ shorts to press kisses to his leg.

You felt Sirius shiver from behind you at the contact of James’ pretty lips on some of his most sensitive skin and you found his hand, interlacing your fingers to give him a squeeze.

“But the sun feels good,” James countered between kisses pressed to Sirius’ leg, not going higher or lower, just dancing around the circumference, tracing where the bottom of the shorts would usually sit.

“I know it does,” You agreed, gazing down at one of your three beautiful boys, “But how about you lay on your back for a little bit, let your tummy get some sun and then we’ll put on more sunscreen and hopefully by that time we’re done Rem will be done and we can go in the water.”

“Hmph,” James looked up at you, he was positioned in such a way that sunlight danced through his hazel irises, making him appear even more ethereal than usual, his tan skin glowing in the mid afternoon sun. He was the picture of effortless beauty.

It was unfair how easily the boy tanned, it was something Sirius in particular was envious of but as he positioned himself so that his lips were pressed to the shell of your ear, “He’s gorgeous isn’t he?”

“Breathtaking,” You nodded, only breaking your eyes away from James’ face when his eyes flitted back down to the thigh he used as a pillow, resuming his dusting of feather light kisses. “Just as breathtaking as you are,” Twisting your neck you were nose to nose with Sirius, pale skin stretched across his angular features shimmered beautifully in the sun, like someone had dusted glitter along his skin in his sleep making him look almost god like.

Your eyes flickered from his unnaturally ruby red lips to his grey eyes where you noticed a smear of black makeup beginning at the corner of his eye. You lifted your hand to your mouth, licking the pad of your thumb, before extending out from the corner of the boy’s eye where his eyeliner from earlier was smudged against his porcelain skin.

Allowing his eyes to flutter closed Sirius leaned into your touch and you felt your heart swell, there had been a point during your relationship with the three men where you reaching for his face would’ve caused him to flinch and back away, and even if your hand had somehow managed to make it to his face he would’ve sat there awkwardly and rigid until you pulled away.

But this comfort was a demonstration of the trust that had formed, not just between the two of you but all four of you, even if one member was absent at the moment.

“There we go,” You murmured, pulling your hand back to your lap, though Sirius followed it, not wanting to break contact with you until the las possible second.

“Better now?”

“Much.”

Casting your gaze back down at the near comatose form of one of your other boyfriends you frowned as James had still yet to shift so that his back wasn’t exposed to the sun.

Though Sirius pretended not to care as much as you he too noticed the pinkish tint James’ skin was starting to take on. Resting one of his hands, stronger than yours, on James' face he began rubbing small circles on his cheek, occasionally running his fingers through the other boy’s hair to keep it out of his way.

“She’s right Jamesie,” His low baritone sounded, “Don’t need you with a sunburn so roll over for us, can put your head right back in my lap, just want you to be okay.”

“But m’comfy,” The other boy protested into Sirius’ thigh, saliva spilling out onto the hard canvas of muscle.

Knowing that if James wasn’t going to listen to you or Sirius there was one person whose opinion would matter you spoke, “Can’t have Remmy worrying about you Jamie,” You implored gently, “We’re out here to help him relax,”

You were right, with the full moon in a matter of days Remus had been high strung, constantly fidgeting, lost in his head, spacing out during class while also hyper fixating on the most minute of details. The boy was a tightly wound mess and desperately just needed a relaxing afternoon with his three favorite people.

If he even had an inkling that one of you was anything other than completely fine he would focus all of his energy in on that, forgetting the real reason you were supposed to be out there together.

It was those words that seemed to reach James and had him turning over onto his back so that the back of his head was now cradled in his hands which were interlocked and resting upon Sirius’ thigh, his strong, muscled legs kicked out underneath him, his ankles crossed.

You allowed your eyes to run up and down James’ impressive form, thighs just as beautiful, but more defined that Sirius’ but hidden behind a pair of coral swim trunks. His abs were without a doubt the most defined out of all four of you, like his thighs this part of his physique could be attributed to countless hours on the Quidditch pitch, training him and his team ruthlessly, pushing every physical boundary. It had obviously paid off as the strong muscles of his biceps and triceps flexed as he had his arms positioned to prop his head up.

Flicking your glance behind you you noticed that Sirius was appreciating the view just as much as you were, and who could really blame you? James was gorgeous, and he was all yours just as the stunnig boy behind you was.

Once again pushing yourself out of Sirius’ lap you used your hands to stabilize your body on the ground, your palms pressed flat against the soft material of the towel that was laid out underneath you so that your face was mere inches above James. You didn’t even bother waiting for him to close his eyes before you were melding your lips with his, closing your eyes in contentment as you felt his lips fall open for yours, his tongue peeking out to trace your soft cushions.

Reaching a hand up to cup your jaw James used it to pull your face down closer towards his. You released a muffled “umph” as you were forced to drop from your hands to your forearms to support yourself comfortably and James gently took your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping gently as he deepened the kiss.

Before you could reciprocate, matching his passion, there were another pair of strong hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you away from James’ lips and out of Sirius’ lap.

You let out a high pitched shriek at the sudden, unexpected motion and with what appeared to be minimal effort the hold on you shifted from your waist to supporting you under the bend of your knees and the small of your back.

Not being alarmed as the deep laughter that erupted from the figure was not only familiar but reassuring, you rested your head against Remus’ chest, having recognized him instantly. Inhaling deeply the scent of the thin t-shirt he’d thrown on before making his way down to the lake after finishing his prefect duties you knew that it was no doubt either Sirius’ or James’ as the three boys rarely ever wore their own shirts, always preferring each other’s.

“Hi Rem,” You smiled, gazing up at his visage from your place in his arms, you squinted because his head was positioned directly in front of the sun, making it look like there was a brilliant halo glowing around him.

“Hi baby, I missed you,” He cooed down at you, pressing a sweet and simple peck to your puckered lips before rising back up to his full height, still cradling you in his arms.

“You can put me down now Remmy,” You giggled, not satisfied with the brief kiss he’d given you, you clasped his jaw similarly to the way James had yours to bring his lips back down to yours.

But once again, much to your chagrin, he kept the kiss short, no matter the firm hand you kept on his jaw, perhaps even shorter than the last once before pulling away and setting you down softly on the ground, taking great care to ensure you were balanced before letting go of his hold on you.

“Neither of those were real kisses,” You complained, resting your hand against his chest, your head at a near ninety degree angle to look up at the male who towered over you.

“No?” He asked teasingly.

Rising to the bait you answered, “No.”

“Don’t whine baby,” Sirius chimed in from where he laid, still lounging upon the ground, “Remmy’s had a very exhausting day (Y/N), can’t blame him if his kissing isn’t what it usually is.”

Pushing himself up off the ground Sirius sauntered over to where you and Rem stood, making a show as he carelessly flinging his arms around Remus’ neck.

“Now come on Remus,” He ordered with a false arrogance, “Carry me to the water!” Letting his head fall back dramatically he stood there expectantly but was met only with Remus’ light laughter as he ducked out from under the smaller boy’s arms.

“I don’t think so Pads,” Remus said as pulled off his shirt, you grinned at the seemingly unimportant action but just as Sirius trusting you to touch him made your heart soar so did this. Remus proudly and carelessly displaying all of the beautiful scars that decorated his chest made you so proud of the progress the four of you had all made together.

“Get Jamie to carry you,” Once again lifting you into his arms Remus pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Already got my arms full.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby @pinkandblueblurbs @st0nesnglitter @miraclesoflove @priii @wholebigboxofyikes @advictedtohim @gubleryum @temporaryissue @emmaev @zzzfour @itsmentalillness

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folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

French Class [2]

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this part! I’m excited to put out more parts soon!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, oral (f receiving), car sex, dirty talk, college!au, nerd!reader, fuckboy!bias

words: 4.4 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez

“And then he asked me if I would wear his tie around my neck while he- Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you there?” Your roommate, Chohee, waved her hand in front of your face from across the table. You had occupied the seats in the back of the Chinese restaurant, in a niche where you were mostly hidden from other customers. Turns out, for all the spicy stories she had in store – as always – that had been a great idea.

“I swear your thoughts have been all over the place lately. Are you sure you have nothing to talk about?” She twirled a strand of her dyed pink hair around her fingers while she mustered you suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out. It’s nothing, I’m just tired. I’ve been studying day and night. Looks like you’re the only one with the stories today. Just start again from the part where he got the whipped cream from the fridge,” you said.

“We went over that part five minutes ago! Have you paid any attention?” Chohee shook her head with a grin. Then she began her bedroom-adventure story from the beginning, because she knew as well as you, she loved talking about it.

Truth was, you had one hell of a story to tell. And no, you had not been paying attention. Not because you were tired. Not because you had studying on your mind. But because one hundred percent of your focus was currently directed at the boy only a few tables from yours. You only saw the back of his head, but there was no doubt about his identity. The mop of hair was unmistakable. Plus, he was in his famous black leather jacket. There was no mistaking this piece of clothing. It was decorated with white splatters of acrylic paint and had his name written messily across the top of his back. You could just about make out the tips of the letters as he leaned back comfortably, legs spread on his chair, chatting to his friend.

Chohee had no idea about the grip the person behind her had on you. She was your closest friend, and yet you hadn’t broken the news to her: You were hooking up (and not just once) with the so-called “hottest guy on campus”. AT least those had been her words when she had first told you about him. Lately you had to admit, you were starting to agree. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep secrets from her. In fact, on many occasions you had almost crumbled and told her the full story. Had she not been such a chatterbox, and did she not love gossiping as much as she did, you swore she would already know about your little arrangement with him.

She was aware of this much: You and him were casual friends. Study buddies, one would say. You had subtly passed over the little details of your friendship. How grocery store visits sometimes turned into visits to his dorm because of a simple text of his, or how you had sneaked out on more than one occasion in the middle of the night because he had told you his dormmates weren’t home. It wasn’t weird to Chohee that you brushed over the particularities of your “one-night-stands” when you returned in the mornings. You had never been as big on sharing as she was.

Maybe you wanted to keep things to yourself out of fear what people would say, too. You couldn’t care less whether people knew you were sleeping around. But everyone knew him, or so it seemed. Girls wanted him. Boys wanted to be him. All you desired was his friendship and some fun. You had no interest in being known on campus or having people you’ve never met giving you the side-eye over having sex with an oh-so-special boy. One day you would tell Chohee all about it. You weren’t technically lying. Just not sharing the entire story.

“Remember how I said H/N was the hottest guy ever?” Chohee suddenly said. The sound of his name made your head snap back to reality.

“Oh, now you’re listening, I see. All it takes is for me to mention your new bestie,” she teased. “You shouldn’t get too attached to him. I have a feeling that girls are interchangeable to him, either way. Anyway, I’ve decided I find his friend Korain much more attractive, since I’ve been hooking up with him.”

Would it be weird to correct her? To promise her, when you had more time and weren’t so distracted, you would lay the truth on her? He isn’t like that at all, you wanted to say. Yes, he liked female attention. But that didn’t make him a bad guy. Would it sound crazed to explain how he knew how you took your coffee, and how he sent you pictures of your favorite animals before your exams to take some of the nerves away? Or how he reported that it took him exactly 1,012 steps to get to your dorm from his place? Multiple times you had tried to count the distance yourself, but you never seemed to have enough focus to make it. Something always caught you off guard. You had doubted his credibility, but he swore he wasn’t bluffing.

Speaking of his friend Korain – who was at this very Chinese restaurant with H/N – he was suddenly making eye contact with you. Before you could slide lower into your seat like a frightened animal, he had grinned at you. Oh no. Prompted by his friend’s smile in your direction, H/N now turned his head. You were thankful Chohee was still deep in her explanation on why she had changed her opinions on the two very boys only a few tables away. If only she knew.

H/N’s eyes caught yours and a smirk plastered on his face. You assumed the tiny smile you sent him would do, but no. The two young men had collected their things and were getting ready to leave. The exit was the opposite direction, and yet H/N took the long way there. His stride was that of a model as he approached your table.

“Y/N,” he said, voice sweet like sugar candy and his smile charming like famous artwork. “You wanna hang at the library later?”

Chohee was now eyeing him as if she was your bodyguard and he was an obsessed fan who had crossed into your personal space. All you could think of was how you wanted him as your dessert. Now. But you had an exam coming up in a few days. So, his invitation fit just right.

“I’ll be there.” You smiled politely. He gave you a raised eyebrow, but then nodded, said goodbye, spun around and followed his friend out of the restaurant. When you looked at Chohee, she was already giving you eyes that asked a billion questions at once. Fantastic. Now you’d have to explain that “hang at the library” was not some sort of codeword for sex, but you had – against all odds – convinced the local prince of fuckboys that studying wasn’t such an atrocious idea after all. But fate saved you before you could begin your clarification.

“Oh no! Where has the time gone? I have to get to my afternoon lecture!” Chohee exclaimed, quickly gathering her purse and jacket. “My professor will curse me if I’m late again!”

And with that, she scrambled up from the table. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy just because I have to go! I demand a good story when I get home!”

You knew she was just being dramatic, and should you decide to keep everything to yourself for another month, she wouldn’t be mad. And yet, the urge to tell her crept up on you as you watched her hurry out of the door while waving one last time. Your morning classes had been the only appointment in your calendar for the day. So, with nothing else to do, you fished for your phone to message him for a time to meet at the library.

“What were you being so weird for earlier?” he asked as he plopped down on the wooden chair across from you. His books slammed on the table, and you flinched a little. Boys.

“Thanks for reminding me why I chose to sit in the group project area today. Could you be any louder in a library?” you said. “And thank god we’re the only ones here.”

“Thanks for reminding me that you’re still great at avoiding questions,” he returned.

“I just didn’t want my friend to ask questions.”

“So you talked to me like a five year old would respond to their kindergarten teacher? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? The guy with the reputation?”

“No, I’m not. Wait? What? And what kind of reputation would that be, if I may ask? The you-only-sleep-with-a-girl-once-reputation?”

“You should know the nastiest rumors mostly prove to be false. I was thinking of something more delightful. Like a gives-the-best-head-on-campus-kind of reputation.”

You snorted. “And who is going to do the research to prove that?”

“Why don’t you look around and report back to me?” he smirked.

“No thanks. I’m already hooking up with a guy who’s more than a handful.”

He faked taking offence in your words with a theatrical gasp. “Is that so? The girl I’m hooking up with isn’t much better. Always asks to hang at the library like she doesn’t beg me to fuck her the second we get out of there.”

“Let me remind you that you were the one who suggested this place today,” you said. “I was ready to jump into your bed and you had to stall time like this.”

“Are you for real? What are we still doing here, then?” he asked, and you tilted your head with a suggestive grin that mirrored his.

15 minutes later:

“Who the fuck stores five umbrellas in their car?” You kicked another one off the backseat you were lying on. Your bra was exposed beneath your shirt which he had pushed up on your chest and was now attacking the exposed skin with hungry kisses.

“That’s what you get for not getting it on in the library,” he muttered against your skin without looking up.

“We’d be asking to get suspended from there by doing that,” you said. “And I cherish my library very much.”

He only made a snickering noise and shook his head before he went to take off his shirt – and promptly hit his head on the car roof. “Ow! This sucks. I can barely move.”

“That’s what you get for not waiting until we’re at your place,” you teased him with his own words. But judging by the prominent bulge in his pants, you supposed you didn’t want him driving anywhere. Not with naughty things on his mind, and with you next to him to only make him hornier. Your eyes fell on the dark purple spots on his abdomen, and you grinned.

“Wow. Someone must have worked hard to make that stomach even prettier,” you said.

“Yeah, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He bent down to your ear and his husky tone sent cold shivers up your spine. Of course, you knew. You were the one who bit and sucked the hickeys into his skin two days ago, after all. His hands palming your boobs through your bra drew out a desperate sigh from you.

“Let’s play a game. What do you say?” he asked.

“What kind of game would that be?” Your interest was roused. He was lost in thought for a moment, hands slowly running up and down your exposed legs. Luckily, you had opted for a skirt today. All he’d had to do was to push it up to your belly and get rid of your underwear after your short but very steamy make-out session on the backseat. The cool air on your exposed core was only magnifying your impatience.

“Whoever comes first, loses.” You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his idea, and he eyed you with indignation. “You don’t like it?”

“Everyone knows women take longer to orgasm than men do,” you said. “Are you trying to dig your own grave or what?”

“That’s why I’ll have a head start,” he announced. His hands circled the skin close to your core, creeping up your thighs slowly.

“And what’s the prize for winning?”

“The loser owes the winner a favor.”

“Too vague. I don’t trust you with that.”

“I don’t trust you, she says as she waits for me to fuck her in my car,” he mocked.

“I don’t trust your crazy ideas,” you clarified. “What about this? The winner pays for the loser’s next meal when we eat together.”

“Deal.” He slid his fingers over your pussy, and you crumbled into a whining mess within seconds. No matter how much your head denied it, he really was the best. He caught your clit between his digits and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment.

“Shit, you only turn me on more if you’re going to moan like that.” He lowered his head and spit on your center, and the laughter that had been bubbling in your throat died in an instant. His fingers rubbed your nub fast and spread his saliva – without doubt his attempt at tipping you closer to the edge before he had even begun to fuck you.

“Too bad you find me so hot,” you said, and let out a purposely dramatic whimper, followed by his name in your best fake-porn-voice. His smile had something wholesome, as if he was admiring his friend making silly jokes, but also a glint of playfulness. You knew had been a mask when he bit his lip and exhaled slowly. With ease, he slid his middle finger into you. As he curled it against your sweet spot, he bent down to suck on your clit and your back arched at the sudden pleasure.

“Too bad you’re going to lose,” he said, and then continued his antics. Had he continued this way for another few minutes, his words wouldn’t have been so far from the truth. But you had other plans.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” you asked. “That’s enough of your head start.”

“I only just tasted you. Why would it be called a head start, if you’re going to stop me two minutes into giving you head?” he asked and you would’ve slapped his shoulder, had he been close enough. Instead, you closed your eyes for a few seconds. He was the competitive one here, and you didn’t mind enjoying yourself for now. Sighing in temporary defeat, your head fell back onto the seat. The sun was shining its last rays through the car window. They caught in his curled eyelashes and on his skin, coloring him golden.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, arm snaking around your thigh. He held on to you, but it wasn’t as if you could have moved away from him. Your head was right by the car door. His lips around your clit paired with his finger steadily rubbing against your sweet spot inside of you made you feel like floating. His free hand touched your leg gently, caressing your skin as if he wasn’t also simultaneously pushing you to the urge to yell out his name in pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, as if you needed to do so to keep him in place. But something in the back of your mind still had a desire for winning. Trying to collect the last bits of your dwindling sanity, you hatched a plan. Good on you – you knew just what rode him into madness.

“I- I need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, making sure to add an extra layer of tragedy to your voice. “Please, I want it so bad.”

He looked up at you, a dark glint in his eyes. Of course, he did. All was going according to plan. It wasn’t like you had known him all your life, but you were perfectly aware of one thing. He could never resist your dirty talking and begging.

“Please?” you bat your eyelashes ever so longingly at him.

“Is that so?” He was now straightening up. His black pupils were dilated, and he was looking at you with the expectation of a loyal puppy waiting for his treat. You grabbed the front hem of his pants and pulled him towards you. In a moment, you had unzipped the material for him.

“I want you to fuck me like you did the first time we met. At the party,” you said. “Do you ever think about it, too?”

“Fuck, of course I do,” he said. Faster than you could register, he was ripping a condom wrapper and sliding it onto his free length. His cock stood angry and hard against his stomach. Perhaps your dramatic words weren’t so far-fetched. You couldn’t wait for him.

“Then do it, please,” you said. “Right now, this pussy is all yours. Use it the way it should be used.”

He muttered a swear under his breath and you knew he was in the palm of your hand. His hot breath fanned your neck as he bent over you, cock aligned with your exposed core. For a moment his length slid through your wetness, and he groaned at the warmth that was about to engulf him.

“I’m so fucking wet,” you moaned. “And all for you.”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the exaggerated show you were putting on for him as much as he did. Although, you weren’t sure whether you were allowed to call it exaggeration, at all. Your walls clenched around nothing as the tip of his cock touched your juices and he eyed you like he could’ve eaten you up right then and there.

When he finally entered you, he instantly sighed. His eyes were shut tightly as he dealt with the impact of feeling you around his shaft. A small spark of triumph went through you. That was, until he pushed your legs up and snapped his hips against yours. A sharp, sudden burst of pleasure shot through you and the coil in your stomach tightened all at once. You suspected your plan was backfiring slightly. Your words not only appealed to him and his famished mind and body. They also got to your head, and there you were, barely able to contain yourself under a load of blind hunger.

“You want me to fuck you senseless, huh?” he asked. His words went straight to your core. Nonetheless, you had a goal to work towards and you weren’t set on giving up.

“Yes, oh my god,” you whimpered. “That’s all I’m asking for. Please, I know you can. You always fuck me so well.”

In response, he rammed his body into yours so abruptly, you gave off a noise of surprise and pleasure at the same time. He bent his upper body over yours to support himself. His hands lay flat on the seat on both sides of your head. His thrusts made your legs shake now and then, when his cock hit that one spot inside of you. It was causing you to see entire galaxies on the inside of your eyelids. When you blinked up at him, the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. Darkness had always suit him better than the golden sunset, either way. The muscles in his arms flexed and his eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment you called victory yours. But you couldn’t be sure for longer than a moment.

Because from one second to another he straightened up and slowed his thrusts. The gradualness had something equally as striking. He dragged his cock through your scarlet walls and his fingers found your clit. You drew out a ragged breath and cursed him for regaining the upper hand. Yet, you quickly abandoned the thought of defeat. When you allowed yourself to feel the pleasure, every last thought vanished at last. You moaned and whimpered helplessly. Without overthinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. He shot you a confused smirk.

“Too much, baby?” he said. “Think you won’t be able to handle it? A shame. It would really be too bad if you lost. You were doing so well up to now.”

You swallowed, hard. His patronizing voice tugged at your nerves and yet you loved when he spoke to you this way during sex. And he was aware of it – hence his knowing grin.

“Don’t stop moving,” you asked him to keep up his thrusts. “It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“Oh no. I would never dare break the rules,” he said.

He did as you said, and it only made things more mind-consuming for you. You were again reminded of the small tornado raging in the pit of your belly, threatening to consume you all over. It was only a matter of time. But what he could do, you could do better.

“Do you like fucking me in my skirt?” you taunted him, blinking ever so sweetly. Your eyes were dripping honey as you put on your most innocent gaze. “Am I pretty like this?”

“You’re the prettiest,” he muttered, biting his lip as if he was stopping a thousand moans from spilling out. “So. Fucking. Hot.”

“If I wear this skirt to class tomorrow, and you see me in the halls, will you think of this moment?” you asked. His fingers on your clit were shaky and moving unevenly. You might have been digging your own grave along with his. You didn’t care. Too many lectures you had wasted, barely able to concentrate because of the boy on top of you.

“Definitely. You weren’t wearing that earlier, at the restaurant,” he said. You wondered how many people had ever seen him this way – utterly breathless, all his cool vaporizing at once.

“Good observation,” you said, but you were struggling with your words as much as he was unable to keep calm. What was meant to sound lazy and seductive had morphed into a whimper and small sighs. “I wasn’t. I- I put it on just for you.”

He cursed again and abandoned all his remaining self-control. His grip on you was iron-tight and you clenched your fists. Oh, how you wished you could have buried your head into a pillow, or better even, the crook of a neck. Instead, you moaned his name almost soundlessly and searched for his dark eyes.

“Say my name again,” he demanded, like it was his last request on earth. So, you obeyed, only because you would have done anything for him right now, if it meant that he would keep fucking you that way.

“Oh my- my god,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop, fuck-“

“You look so hot right now, baby,” he groaned. “Shit- I could come just looking at you.”

“Then do it,” you said. Challengingly, you both smirked at each other. It lasted only the blink of an eye. You felt your insides twist before you could have prevented it. And all of a sudden, you crashed. Your intense orgasm erupted, and it took you several seconds to realize it, but then you heard it. His high-pitched moans, quiet and curse-stricken, could only mean one thing. You weren’t the only one, and therefore not the first to reach your high. A content smile spread on your face as his messy thrusts went on for a short while and you bathed in the remaining moments of bliss.

Silence set in as you both kept still to catch your breaths. You worried he would pin the loss on you, nonetheless, and inwardly braced yourself for his accusations. But to your surprise, he only laughed and collapsed on top of you. His breath tickled your neck slightly.

“We’ll be splitting the bill, I suppose?” he said. He straightened up to look you in the eyes playfully.

“Looks like it,” you said. You guessed his fighting spirit had been appeased and his energy had been spent on better things than arguing with you. You never minded it.

“Did you have a nice study session? Does the library lady assume you’re homeless and actually living there, yet?” Chohee teased as you entered your shared kitchen. She was typing on her phone but looked up when you only laughed.

“Is that a hickey?” she asked, and you knew you were done for. “What exactly is it you were studying? H/N’s body?”

“I guess I should tell you. Sooner or later, you’ll know,” you relented.

“Tell me what? Oh my god. Are you guys dating? Are you dating H/N?”

“No! You know I have no time for a boyfriend,” you said. “But…we’ve been hooking up.”

“Damn girl,” she said. “What do you have on him that he keeps coming back?”

“Excuse me? Am I really that boring of a company?”

“No. You’re the best company I could ever ask for, obviously,” she said, smiling at you. “But you remember his reputation. He sleeps with the same girl only once.”

“It’s just a stupid rumor,” you said. “Besides, we’re not just hooking up. He’s my friend. You already knew that.”

“Friend, huh?” Chohee asked. “Alright. So, you’re telling me he can hang out with you without trying to get it on?”

“He can, actually. And let me tell you, he’s cool. And pretty funny, too,” you said. She raised her eyebrows at you. “We’ve set some rules. We hook up, but also hang out as friends. Neither is allowed to be upset when the other turns down sex. We can both hook up with anyone else, still. No jealousy, no attachments. Just a good time.”

“Alright,” Chohee nodded. “If you’re so close, do you think you could introduce me to some of his friends sometime?”

You laughed, nodding. Chohee and H/N had quite some things in common, you realized then. Maybe that’s why you liked the two of them so much.

“Let’s see how long that lasts, then. Don’t wrap him too tightly around your finger, or he might trip and fall,” she winked. It was your turn to raise your eyebrow. Whatever she might have been insinuating – you had zero plans of making it reality. (Yet.)

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roscgcld · 3 years

Text

ZEN’IN NAOYA || husband’s duty

request: omg if it is okay can i ask for a part 2 of sweet little things 🥲

note: you definitely can, love! honestly this definitely cracked my head a little since we didn’t get to explore naoya too much as a character, underneath all that complexity that makes him up as the man we saw in the manga. But I am not gonna sit here and say I do not simp for him AHAHAHA - that would be a huge lie. But we shall see, no? I feel like I made him too soft though, but I live for soft!Naoya - so do not touch me T^T

part one

warning: suggestive scene throughout, but nothing happens really. just naoya being an ass lol

pronouns: she/her

A content sigh left Naoya’s lips as he leans back into the warm water of the bath, his eyes slowly sliding shut at the warmth that surrounds him. Today has been a long day on the office - with back to back meetings and piles of paperwork on his desk, he was just ready to land into his bed face first and sleep the evening away.

“What do you want for your onigiri filling tomorrow? The farmers that produce that special rice you like sent a bag of rice to us earlier today.”

Your soft and sweet voice was what broke him out of his tranquil trance, yet he doesn’t find himself getting angry. Instead he hummed as he leans towards the direction of your voice, seeming to melt further in the steaming water when your soft hands immediately rest themselves against his broad shoulders. Fingers immediately getting to work on the knots that had started to build up since the afternoon. “Hmm...unagi filling sounds good.”

“I’ll make some for your bento tomorrow then,” You reassured him with a warm smile as you started to work through the knots on his shoulders, making sure to not accidentally dig your short but well kept nails into his skin. Whilst Naoya enjoys leaving marks of ownership all over your person, he does not appreciate having any scars left on his skin. And although he does not voice his disapproval, you know your husband well enough to know that unless he is in the mood, you should be careful about things like your nails scratching his skin.

The idea of you making one of his favourite dishes for him, knowing that he has to deal with more paperwork and calls tomorrow has him smiling softly in response. He would not voice out how your little actions causes his usually cold heart to skip a beat; instead he just leans back a little when he heard you collecting some water from the tub with the wooden shower pale. Relishing in the feeling of the water being poured over his two-toned hair, along with your soft fingers gently running through the strands.

Many people feel bad for you, since everyone knows what kind of man Naoya is. Everyone knows that he is nothing more but a skirt chaser, a man who views women as nothing an accessory to hang off his arm. Whose purpose is to provide strong heirs, and nothing more. You knew of the man even before you met him the first time on your family estate - listening to your older sister rant about how much of a myogenetic, rude, and disgusting excuse of a man Zen’In Naoya is. You’ve heard of the whispers from the other women whenever you would join a jujutsu event where the Zen’Ins would be in attendance. You knew that the moment both your fathers shook hands after Naoya shows great interest in you, your future was sealed to be with a man who seems to be every woman’s living nightmare.

And yet, for the last 4 months of marriage life, things have been...pleasant.

Naoya knew from the moment that he spoke to you that he needed to act ‘softer’ in order to gain your trust. That he cannot be his full self around you for at least the first month of your marriage in order to make him trust you; or until his patience runs thin from acting.

However, even though he has promised himself that he will drop the act after the first month; here he is, 4 months into your new marriage. Still finding it almost natural for him to act softer and more...kinder around you. Maybe it is because he finds your personality just so soft and welcoming that it just...felt right to treat you differently. Maybe he is just trying to reason to himself that as his wife, you should be treated differently from the common folk outside of your private home; after all, as long as he keeps you happy, he can get away with pretty much anything.

And yet...he has yet to find it in him to actually act like his usual self around you. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring you, or fearing that you’re scared of him. It’s laughable - how a man who was so self centered and only cared about himself and no one else, seemed to be so worried about what his wife thinks about him. He had reasoned to him that this is normal; that any husband would want their wife to fear them.

But just...it was odd to him. How he chooses to act differently around you, and not feel like he is forced in any way.

His opened his eyes to take a peak at you when his thoughts start to wonder, scanning over your concentrated features as you carefully worked the shampoo through his hair. Somehow just seeing you so focused on making sure that he was enjoying his bath had his heart skipping a beat; something that would have scared him if it were to happen with anyone else.

Yet, instead he found himself letting a small but genuine smile tug against the corners of his lips, one that immediately catches your attention as you carefully wash the studs from his hair. “What got you so happy, my love?,” You asked him curiously as you carefully ran your fingers through his hair, making sure that all the studs were gone. Instead of answering he just reached his hand up to grab your wrist in his gently, pressing a soft kiss against the inside of your wrist.

Naoya isn’t a man to convey his emotions often. He doesn’t necessarily view emotions as weak; he just sees no reason to show others around him how he feels unless it brings him some form of advantage. Other then that, he just puts up an arrogant and unbothered front for the most part. But with you...well, you were different. You are his wife, and in order to be a good husband, he needs to show you that he is willing to show you what is underneath his mask. Or so, he thinks that is what he needs to do.

The feeling of Naoya’s lips against your skin send a set of shivers down your spine, your eyes shyly glancing away from his handsome face as you felt the tips of your ears warm up. Just seeing how bashful you were about something as small as showing you emotion had him smirking against your wrist, immediately wanting to see just how far he can push his luck.

And he knows exactly what to do. “Get in the bath with me.”

You immediately snapped your shocked eyes back at your husband in shock, immediately feeling your cheeks warm at how he was staring at you expectantly. Although you’ve seen each other naked before, with him being so obsessed of having an heir of his own - it would be a surprise if you haven’t see him naked in all his glory. It wasn’t like he was bad to look at either - from all the training puts himself through to perfect his Technique, you would be lying to say that you’ve never stared at his strong back or broad shoulders whenever you two are alone.

It was just...so sudden. And you immediately knew what his intensions were, yet you just pouted softly as you quietly pulled yourself up from the steps you were seated on. Just seeing the soft pout tugging against the corner of your lips had Naoya biting back a smile as he watches you strip from your kimono, carefully folding the expensive fabrics to the side.

Soon you carefully made your way up the wooden steps of the traditional bathtub, thanking your husband quietly as he held a hand out to help you into the tub. You awkwardly knelt down between Naoya’s knees, still a little nervous to touch him even though he was the one who invited you into the bath with him. Naoya found your fear quite amusing, and without missing a beat he grabbed your hand in his before he pulls you close; chuckling at the squeak you let out when you landed against his bare chest.

“Don’t need to be so scared, my wife,” Naoya mumbles with a smirk, hands trailing down your soft back to relish the goosebumps that appear on your skin; his eyes glancing away from your shocked face to your fists resting against his chest. “After all...if there is one person worthy enough to be by my side, it will be you,” He mumbles, hands that seem even warmer than the water surrounding you two resting on the small of your back.

A combination from his soft touches, to his overly sweet but frank words had your face burning up once more as you whine and bury your face into his neck, your actions causing Naoya to let out a soft but genuine peel of laughter come from his chest. “Did I startle you?,” Naoya asks in amusement, already knowing the answer to that question. Yet he wanted for you to answer the question yourself, since he lives for seeing you getting embarrassed over the smallest of interactions with him.

You fluttered your eyes close to try and calm you rapid heartbeat, yet you nodded your head gently to answer his question. “A-A little..,” You mumble back quietly against his skin, heart skipping a beat a little at Naoya’s soft chuckle that he breathed against the shell of your ear. Naoya did not want to admit it, but he finds this subconsciously clingy side of you quite endearing. Whilst he hates it when others touch him, even if they grazed him by accident; he does not mind it when it’s you.

Maybe he has gone a little insane after marriage.

After you’ve managed to gather your wits, you quietly pulled away from him before you reached back to grab the wash towel you had grabbed from earlier, Naoya curiously opened one of hi eyes when you shifted against his chest. Just having you pressed up against his chest, along with the warm water surrounding him had lulled him into a tranquil and sleepy state. But he didn’t stop you as you wet the wash towel before you carefully lathered his body wash into the fabric.

Quietly you started to wash his body like you would usually every night, yet this time it was a little different since now you were in the bath with him. Something that he has never really allowed before, since he views his bath time as his personal time. You would usually help him bathe before you leave the bathroom to prepare for bed and whatever wifely duties you need to fulfil for the night.

But if you were being honest, as you carefully washed your husband clean, you did not mind a change to your routine. Yet you did not voice your inner thoughts as you continue gliding your hands over Naoya’s arms, making sure to keep quiet to give him the silence he enjoys whenever he’s in the bath. However, Naoya was in the mood to talk today.

Whilst you were carefully washing his chest, Naoya’s hands started to wander along your body once more once more. “So, what did you get up today whilst your husband was out at work?”

You blinked up at your husband curiously, to which he just raised an eyebrow in response at the look you threw his way. “Can a husband not know what his wife gets up to when he slaves away at his desk?,” Naoya asks with a soft raise of his brow, his words causing you to widen your eyes as you shake your head immediately. Not wanting him to think that you’re questioning his authority. “O-Of course not! I-I just...thought...you’d like some quiet in your alone time..”

A soft sigh was your only response, to which you awkwardly looked away from your husband’s eyes to stare at his hard chest; worried that you’ve angered the man. “You know...I want to hear about your day too,” Naoya mumbles after a few tensed seconds of silence, a finger gently crocking under your chin to coax your eyes to look up at him. He did not have a smile on his serious face, yet there was a soft look shining in his usually hard eyes. “I get curious sometimes when I have time to breath...what does my beautiful wife do at home when I am away? Does she miss me? Does she take the free time she gets to pretend that she is not my wife? What could you be possibly be doing when I am away from home..?”

When you heard his words, you tilted your head softly as you scanned his face, trying to understand the meaning behind his message. He wasn’t dumb - he was more than aware of the whispers of the maids that thought he was not around, how people feel bad for you that you are married to a man like him. He honestly doesn’t care what others have to say about him - he never cared about what others have to say about him. Because he knows that when they need power or need something to get done, they will always turn to him with fake smiles and praise dripping from their tongues.

However, he was genuinely worried about you - he was worried that the whispers of his past will start to scare you away. Make you think that you are an idiot for marrying a man like him, and slowly but surely take you away from him. For once he was worried that you are going to leave him, because for once in his life, he finally understand what it truly means to be home. The very thought of you leaving him shakes him down to his very core, and he will do everything in his power to prevent that from becoming his reality.

“I don’t...think like that, you know.”

Your soft voice snapped his train of thought as he glances back into your eyes, blinking when your soft hands rest against his cheeks gently with a soft smile gracing your features. “I knew the type of man you were before you came to my family estate that day, and I have heard of all the rumours of your attitude even whilst you were courting me. But that didn’t change my decision because I genuinely enjoyed having you around.”

Your words had Naoya widening his eyes as his mind went blank at your confession. And seeing your usually stoic and arrogant husband looking stunned had you giggling as your thumbs started to stroke at his high cheekbones. “Yes, you may be a little colder and stricter then I am used to, but you are still a good man. You’ve been nothing but a good husband to me, and far from the rumours paint you to be. So don’t worry too much about my thoughts on our marriage, because I am nothing but happy to be your wife.”

Quietly you gently tugged his face close, resting his forehead against yours with a smile. “I know that you grew up in a different world from I did, and that you were brought up with different morals from mine. But I also know you’re trying for me, and that is more than enough for me at the end of the day.” You mumble softly, revealing to him that you were more observant than you let on. Yet you faked ignorance for his sake because you genuinely cared for him as a person. “Because at the end of the day, a wife is knows all of her husband’s sides the best.”

For once Naoya was completely stunned into silence, having never expected for you to be so candid about your feelings. Your response to his stunned silence was a quiet giggle as you lean forward to press a soft kiss against the tip of his nose. The feeling of your warm and soft lips snapped him back into reality, and upon realising how close you were, his pale cheeks flushed up from embarrassment. Immediately one of his hands pulled itself away from where they were resting against your bare hips to cover his cheeks with the back of his hand, eyes darting away as he leans away from you immediately.

“I-I want to get out of the bath now...”

You let out a giggle at the sight of your husband so out of character, yet you made no other comment as you nodded with a smile. “Lets get ready for bed then, my love,” You hummed out as you carefully got out to grab the towels for the both of you, biting back your smile at how cute you find him to be as you dried yourself before you did the same for him.

It was only later into the night, long after you’ve fallen asleep when Naoya really calmed down. You had long fallen asleep, face tucked away underneath his chin whilst your arms wrapped around him loosely. He knows he needed to sleep in order to function properly tomorrow, but his mind has been racing the moment you two got out of the bath to prepare for bed together.

He still cannot wrap his head around the idea that you willingly stay, even knowing that there is a chance you might see a less ideal version of himself. You choose to stay knowing all of the rumours about him and his, admittedly, horrendous behaviour and morals. And whilst he does not know what was it that he did that had you landing in his life, he is 100% sure he will never let you go.

Quietly he presses a soft kiss against the top of your head, a soft but content sigh leaving his lips as he closes his eyes to try and get some sleep before his alarm would go off later. Signaling to a start of another long and boring day away from you once more.

“You’re the best thing that has happened to me,” He mumbles softly into the quiet bedroom, a soft admission to you whilst you’re far away in dreamland, dreaming of things unknown to him. But the least he can pray for is that he wouldn’t become the enemy in your nightmares.

Because at the end of the day, it’s a husband’s duty to protect the happiness of their wife from the evils of the world. Even if the biggest evil in their lives is themselves. As long as he is your husband, you will have nothing to fear.

He will make sure of it.

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collecting-stories · 3 years

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Loose Lips - Rafe Cameron

Request: hey gorg! i’ve been waiting to request for so long and now they’re open! it’s kind of a basic idea but being kie’s sister and hooking up with rafe on the dl? and john b comes over to see sarah and sees y/n walking out of his room? thank you!!

A/N: This honestly came so easily to me and I’ve been having the hardest time writing so...fingers crossed that’s a good sign. Also, was listening to Lips by The Maine when I wrote this.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The sound of the voice calling your name wasn’t unfamiliar to you but it was unfamiliar in this space. That voice, it was your best friend’s deep, raspy like he’d just taken a mouth of saltwater after he wiped out, voice. The tone was confused, naturally, because while he was out of place here to you, you were out of place here to him. You turned away from the bedroom door that you were quietly pulling shut, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“John B? What are you doing here?” You’re words came out barely above a whisper, praying that the person on the other side of the door, the person you’d just left, wouldn’t hear the commotion.

“I swung by to get Sarah...” he trailed off, probably, easily, putting together that you were coming out of not-Sarah's room and you definitely weren’t hanging with Wheezie whenever you disappeared for an afternoon or after a party. “What are you doing here?”

If he eliminated Rose and Ward too, that left one person in the Cameron household. You could see the gears turning in his head, already imagine him trying to blindly text your sister some kind of SOS as he reached his hand into his back pocket. Maybe you could play it off, would you rather he think you were buying coke or that you were here for the actual reason you were here.

“I uh...” you trailed off, looking back at the crisp white door, the doorknob warm in your hand, knuckles turning white as you gripped it. Maybe you could slip back inside and pretend nothing ever happened. “I-”

Before you got a chance to answer him, the doorknob was pulled out of your grasp and you stumbled back as the door opened, the last option John B wanted to believe but the one he knew was it stepping into the hallway.

“You’re still...” Rafe looked at you curiously for a moment, you were still in the hallway outside his room. But when he turned he John B at the top of the stairs looking a lot like someone who’d just been told that Santa Claus wasn’t real. “You forgot your phone.”

If there was any chance for making John B believe that your trip to the Cameron household was innocent or not-innocent-but-not-what-he-thought, that opportunity flew out the window. Rafe was standing there, holding your phone out to you, in nothing but a pair of boxers sitting so low on his hips it was obvious he’d just pulled them on to come out of his room. His hair was still messed up and there was clear evidence, marks on his otherwise flawlessly sunkissed skin, that whatever happened in there was exactly what John B didn’t want it to be.

“Are you sleeping with Rafe?” He practically shouted as you awkwardly pocketed your phone. Couldn’t you have just stayed in bed ten extra minutes like Rafe had asked, did you have to always be so punctual.

“It’s not what it looks like!” You insisted, not daring to look over at your co-conspirator. You could just imagine him leaning up against the door frame or the wall, arms crossed over his chest, amused grin as you tried to stutter out an explanation. Wasn’t that exactly how you had ended up in his bed the first time?

“Pretty fucking sure it looks like you and Rafe just had sex.” John B replied, sounding both disgusted by the idea and betrayed.

“Oh, then it is exactly what it looks like.” Rafe piped up. You turned to look at him, trying your absolute hardest to burn him with your glare. He remained unaffected, which didn’t surprise you at all. He usually was unaffected by most things.

“Does...does Kie know about this?”

“Please John B, you cannot tell my sister about this.” Sarah didn’t even know and most times you were in the house at the same time that she was. There was no way any of them would take this well. Hell, your sister had thrown a fit the first time John B brought Sarah around. This would be ten times worse.

“So what’re you saying,” Rafe asked, feigning hurt, “you don’t want anyone to know about us? I’m really hurt Carrera...I thought we meant something to each other.”

“Shut up Rafe!” You snapped, smacking his arm.

John B ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends. He had half a mind to bolt back down the stairs and tell Kiara exactly what he’d seen. You leaving Rafe’s room, Rafe confirming that you were sleeping together. “How long have you guys been together?” He asked you, trying to remind himself that you were his friend, practically his sister, and he owed it to you to let you explain. At least enough that he could get a whole picture of what was going on.

“Together...would you call it that? Together?” Rafe cut in before you could answer, repeating the word a third time as if he was testing it out. Like he’d never heard it before.

In all honesty, and maybe somehow it was better this way, you weren’t together. You weren’t even definitely friends. You were just hooking up, strictly sex. And yeah, maybe sometimes after sex you hung out and watched TV or smoked weed or ordered a pizza and then had more sex, but it wasn’t together. It wasn’t a relationship.

“We aren’t.” You said it like you were promising John B it was nothing serious. “We aren’t together.”

“John B!” Sarah’s voice rang out from the bottom of the staircase, “are we going or what?”

You mouthed a silent please to him. Please don’t tell Sarah, don’t tell anyone. If your friends found out you would be ostracized, tossed from the pogues forever. You would never be able to show your face on the Cut again.

“Yeah, yeah...” He called back, waving his hand to her to go outside, he’d be right there. He was still staring at you, as if he could somehow figure out why you had decided to hook up with Rafe of all people. Maybe if he looked at you long enough it would all make sense. “We need to talk later.”

“We will, just please...I’ll, we’ll talk, I’ll explain.” You promised, trying to buy yourself some time.

He turned from the top of the staircase, heading down to meet Sarah in the foyer and you heard her ask what the hell was taking him so long when she thought he’d just gone up to use the bathroom. He fumbled through an excuse, casting one more look up the stairs but he couldn’t see either you or Rafe from his position near the door.

When you heard the door slam shut behind them you pressed your hands to your face, “fuck...fuck.”

“Looks like someone’s in trouble.” Rafe teased, laughing when you smacked his arm for a second time.

“Shut the fuck up Rafe!” You grumbled, turning to look at him, “fuck...he’s totally gonna tell my sister, he has no fucking filter. And they’re all shit at keeping secrets.”

“Well,” Rafe shrugged, standing straight and pointing back to his bedroom with his thumb, “might as well come back in, if they’re gonna know anyway.”

“No, I need to leave, I need to go talk to them or something or try to...explain what’s...” your sentence stuttered, trailing off as you lost your thought. Rafe had crossed the hallway to you, placing his hands on your hips and leaning down enough that he could kiss along your neck and shoulder, over faint marks that he’d left earlier.

“You need to what?” He asked, between trailing kisses.

“Rafe...”

“You need to what?” He repeated, pulling away just enough to look at you. Right now John B was no doubt cooking up exactly what he was going to say despite promising to let you explain because he had absolutely not self-control and he was always more loyal to Kiara. You needed to leave, to somehow beat him to his own house so you could make them understand that this meant absolutely nothing to you, that they were your friends and they were ten times more important than Rafe Cameron. “You need to...come back to my room?”

“Like ten minutes, tops.” You reasoned, letting him taking your hands and walk you into his room, pushing the door closed behind you with your foot. It wouldn’t be ten minutes, both of you knew that, but you’d been slowly lying to yourself about this whole thing for months. What was ten more minutes?

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fanfiction #obx fanfic #obx imagine #obx fic #collecting stories imagine

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battinscn · 2 years

Text

𝘀𝗶𝘅𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻

< 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝖿𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇

✧·ﾟ:*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈

⌜𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒⌟

✧·ﾟ:*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧

𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗮 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲

𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘤𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 woke up to y/n's body shaking next to him.

they were in a spooning position, y/n's back was against his chest, her head buried in the pillow she was lying on.

the sounds of y/n's soft muffled sniffs and hiccups filled the room. the girl had put her hands around her mouth in hopes of dampening the cries she was letting out.

this however, was not an unusual occurrence.

in fact, ever since y/n had snuck into the chamber, she had been crying herself to sleep every night.

no matter how much y/n forced herself to hate tom, she just couldn't do it.

he had sacrificed himself for her, how could she hate him?

he was the first man she'd ever loved.

she would think about all the good times they had. the late-night talks they had on the roof of the gryffindor tower, the early morning walks around the courtyard before breakfast, the study sessions in the library that would turn into intense make-outs, the weekly hogsmeade trips.

and most importantly, the way tom would pretend to hate cuddling to sleep at night but would let out small secret smiles and kiss her forehead when he thought she was asleep.

but then she would think about that night in the chamber.

draco just always pretended to be asleep through all this, he knew that there was a reason why she chose to cry in private. and so he would pull her closer to his body, comforting her the only way he knew how.

"dray.." y/n croaked out as she sat herself on the bed.

draco opened his eyes and sat up as well.

"yes my sweet?" his breath hitched when he saw the state of the girl.

her hair was disheveled, her lips raw and swollen from the crying, her nose was red and her eyes bloodshot.

it absolutely pained him to see her this hurt.

she leaned forward into draco's chest as she sobbed into it.

"it's not fair. it's not fair how he said he killed myrtle because he loved me. it's not fair how he tricked me into loving a monster like him. but i did draco, i loved him so much."

draco rubbed small circles on her back as he placed his other hand on her cheek.

they stayed like this for a while.

a wave of guilt suddenly rushed over y/n.

she felt guilty. guilty for crying over someone else when she was in the same bed as the boy who loved her.

he had told her he loved her earlier that afternoon, but she didn't say it back.

she didn't know why she didn't, she knew for a fact she liked draco, maybe even loved him, but she just couldn't bring herself to say it.

she didn't deserve his love.

"i'm sorry dray...i'm so fucking sorry," y/n's voice was hoarse.

"what for my dear?"

"i know...i know you pretend to be asleep when i cry at night, and i know you pretend like it doesn't hurt you when i cry about him, and you don't deserve that, you deserve someone better than me," she pulled away from his chest and stared into his ocean blue eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"it's okay to cry beautiful girl, it's how you heal," he stroked her cheek.

draco couldn't believe the words coming out of y/n's mouth.

if anything, he felt like he didn't deserve her.

"i don't deserve to be loved by you, i'm putting you through so much..."

"it's okay, it's all okay y/n. hell, i'd move mountains for you."

y/n could not help but smile.

draco raised his hand to her face and wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb.

"i assure you that i will do nothing but hold and comfort you whenever you're hurt, you went through so so much, you're allowed to feel this way. and you've brought me so much joy, i don't know if you could ever make me upset," he ran his hands through her hair, tugging at knots on the ends.

draco meant every word. he knew y/n loved him, and he knew that she cries because it's how she copes. he also knew tom riddle will always have a special place in her heart, but he didn't mind sharing because he was who she loved now.

"i...i think i'm falling in love with you draco malfoy."

y/n was now sure she loved the boy enough to tell him again she did.

"sat it again," draco mused.

"i think i'm falling in love with you."

she felt something for draco she had not felt for anyone before, not even tom. he made her feel safe. the way he looked her with the most caring eyes, and each and every gentle touch, he made her feel like the most special person the world. that nothing would ever hurt her again.

sure she loved tom, but she had never felt the same way she did with him as she did with draco.

"i think i'm falling in love with you y/n snape."

draco too, was sure that he was.

whenever she was around, he can't help but to bring a smile to his face. he felt that he could be truly himself around her, comfortable enough to bring out his vulnerable side.

the teens embraced each other with a long deep kiss.

"let's get you cleaned up okay my love?"

the girl nodded her head.

draco picked the girl up bridal style, carrying her to his bathroom and placing her on the counter.

draco ran a hand towel under warm water and brought it up to the girl's face, gently wiping her face.

y/n swung her legs lightly while she closed her eyes, letting the boy take care of her. when draco was done, he threw the used towel into the laundry basket and stood himself in between the girl's legs.

y/n pulled draco by his shirt collar and connected her lips to his.

the blonde moved his hand to y/n's waist, while her hands flew to his hair, pulling and tugging at it as the kiss deepened.

their tongues danced together as small moans left each of their's mouths.

y/n then wrapped her legs around draco's waist, pulling him closer to her body as his hips hit the edge of the counter.

y/n felt his hard-on on her thigh and she found herself awfully turned on.

feeling a sudden surge of confidence, y/n brought one of her hands down and started to palm draco through his trousers, causing him to let out a groan.

while all this happened, their lips never parted.

"may i?" draco tugged the hem of y/n's shirt when the two finally pulled away to catch their breaths.

y/n bit her lip and nodded her head.

draco greedily removed the girl's shirt as he stared at her body.

god she was beautiful.

realising she was now completely half-naked in front of the boy, y/n felt self-conscious and quickly covered herself with her hands.

"don't do that, you're gorgeous," draco frowned as he removed y/n's hands and placed them on the counter.

draco began biting and sucking all over y/n's neck, and draco knew he found her sweet spot when she let out a rather lewd moan.

he attacked the spot on her neck and picked y/n off the counter.

draco threw y/n on the bed and hovered over her.

"are you sure you want this?"

y/n eagerly nodded.

"words princess or i'm not touching you."

"yes draco i want you, please."

draco let out a smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head.

𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 >

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy fanficiton #angst #draco malfoy series #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco angst #draco malfoy angst #slythern reader #draco malfoy fanfic #draco fanfic #metanoia

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sunshineandaisies · 3 years

Text

Dirty Paws & Wet Kisses

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU)

Words: ~3.7k

Warnings: language, floofs and fluff

Note: if you ever read anything written by me that includes dogs, their names will always be kinda extra or related to historical figures (i.e. my dog is actually named Theodore Roosevelt) and I will try my best to make their names increasingly extra with every fic that involves dogs

You’d argue that your four year old sheperd mix was the most well behaved dog in all of New York until your dying breath.

Most days.

During your weekly trips to the park on Sunday afternoons, she would sit at your feet, lounging in the sun as she watched joggers go by and playfully saying hello to anyone - be they human or dog - that stopped by to pet the pretty pup while you read whatever book you’d picked up from the bookstore earlier that week.

Sure, there were a few times that she would whine and stare down any squirrel that strayed too close to her, but she never left your side.

Maybe that’s why you had grown so complacent, why you’d stopped looping her leash around the bench to secure her to your side and simply kept the leash within your reach beside you on the seat of the bench.

And it was because of that complacency that you were sprinting across the park, chasing your naughty dog and drawing judgemental stares from other park-goers.

“Hazel!” you called after her. “Hazel, I swear to god I’m taking all your toys away when we get home!” Right after you took a nice long bath to soothe your aching muscles. When was the last time you’d run this much?

You lost sight of her when she disappeared around a hedge, and the internal panic that set in was almost worse than the time that you accidentally emailed your creative writing professor the Harry Potter fanfiction you’d written instead of your final paper. (You still got an A on the assignment, but that’s besides the point).

You see her as soon as you round the corner, happily licking at a stranger’s face as she sat between his legs, and-

Holy shit, your dog led you to the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

The stranger took note of you before you had a chance to say anything, and he raised his brow at you while angling his face away from Hazel’s kisses. “Does this belong to you?” he asked, pinching the tags on Hazel’s collar between his thumb and two fingers. “Hazelnut Mocha.” He snorted. “Is that your dog’s name or your Starbucks order?”

You weren’t sure if it was the amused smile that curled his lips or the quirk of his brow, but his teasing made you feel personally attacked. You crossed your arms across your chest. “Maybe it’s both.”

He shrugged, scratching the spot behind Hazel’s ear. “I suppose that’s one way to never forget your dog’s name or your coffee order.”

You hummed noncommittally before approaching and tugging Hazel away from the handsome stranger. It took considerably more effort than you had thought it would. “I’m really sorry about her,” you apologized. “She’s never like this. I don’t really know what happened.”

He brushed your apology off with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. If a cute girl wants to give me kisses, I certainly won’t complain.” He winked at you, and you wanted to just melt on the spot.

“Well, uh, I should, um-” You cleared your throat, stepping away and dragging a disappointed Hazel along with you. “Again, I’m really sorry. Even if you didn’t mind.”

You turned and hurried away before his smile made your mind any more frazzled.

Two weeks passed before you decided to show your face at the park again, and this time, you were sure to secure Hazel’s leash to your bench, ensuring that there would be no chases across the park and embarrassing encounters with handsome strangers.

The pup resigned herself to her fate and laid at your feet in the grass, her tongue lolling out of her mouth and her golden eyes shining in the sunlight. She greeted the other dogs that passed, and you thought nothing of it until you heard someone call her name.

Well, shit. You knew that voice. That voice had haunted your dreams for three nights straight after the incident two weeks ago.

“How have you been, pretty girl?” he asked, and you hesitantly lifted your gaze from your book to see him knelt in front of you, patting Hazel’s head as she yipped happily and dragged her tongue over his face in sloppy kisses.

Despite your proclivity to stare at handsome men that showered your dog with attention, your eyes were dragged away from the pair when a wet nose nudged your leg. “Well hello there,” you greeted the brown and white dog that sought your attention. You quickly marked your page and returned your book to your bag before petting your newest furry companion. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“Bucky,” the stranger answered.

You glanced up at him briefly before turning your attention back to the brown and white dog. “Aren’t you a handsome boy, Bucky. Yes, you’re so handsome,” you cooed. The stranger chuckled, and you glanced up expecting to see Hazel mauling him with more sloppy kisses, but instead, he was staring at you, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. “What?”

“I’m Bucky,” he clarified before nodding towards the dog. “That’s Dodger.”

“And you just assumed that I was talking about you when I called him handsome?”

And in complete contrast to how he had acted in your previous interaction, he actually looked embarrassed, nervously scratching the back of his neck while fending off even more kisses from Hazel. “I seem like a complete asshole, don’t I?” he asked sheepishly.

You laughed. “Well, I mean… Don’t let this go to your head or anything, but I suppose you are kind of handsome, too. You know, in a handsome stranger kind of way.” You felt your cheeks flood with warmth, and you averted your gaze, hoping he didn’t see just how flustered you were after your admission. You tried to breeze past it altogether by giving all of your attention to Dodger once again, petting him and praising him for being such a sweet boy.

After a moment of you and Bucky speaking only to each other’s dogs, you cleared your throat and commented, “I didn’t realize you had a dog. Was he at the park with you the day that Hazel practically assaulted you?”

“He’s not my dog.”

You blinked. “Oh. Is he your girlfriend’s dog?”

And just like that, all hints of embarrassment disappeared from his face. He quirked a brow and smirked at you. “My girlfriend?”

“Or boyfriend,” you added hastily.

He snorted and shook his head. “It depends on who you ask.”

You cocked your head to the side, and the action conjured up an image of Hazel doing the same whenever you would try to hold an actual conversation with her. “Uh, what?”

His gaze flitted to the ground as he smiled an amused little smile that had you biting your lip and shamelessly staring at the man. “It’s a bit of a joke among my friends,” he began. “Dodger is my buddy Steve’s dog. Some of our friends like to make it seem like we’re dating, but we definitely aren’t. We just know each other way too well.” His smile widened when he looked back up at you. “So to answer the question that you indirectly asked-”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “What?”

“-I’m single, sweetheart.”

You gaped at him, trying to form an appropriate response. This man was frustrating - frustratingly handsome, frustratingly smug, frustratingly able to read you like a goddamn open book. How dare he correctly assume you were trying to figure out if he was single or not?

The sound of a phone ringing interrupted your thought process, and Bucky gave you an apologetic look after glancing down at his phone. “I gotta take this,” he told you. You heard him greet the other person on the other end of the call before calling for Dodger. As he turned to go, he paused for a moment, pressed the phone against the front of his shirt to muffle the receiver, and called over his shoulder. “See you around, Hazel and Hazel’s mom.”

Right. You never gave him your name.

You were cursing yourself for nearly a month for not getting his phone number before he disappeared, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you had a smidge of hope that you’d run into him at the park again... But alas, no luck.

You were starting to think that you’d never see your handsome park stranger - although, he wasn’t really a stranger anymore, was he? - but exactly 37 days after your last encounter with Bucky (aka handsome park stranger), Hazel brought you back together in the most heart attack inducing way she could manage.

You’d been sitting on the patio of your favorite little cafe, catching up with Carol and Val over coffee and fluffy pastries, and Hazel had been behaving herself aside from the occasionally whining and begging when any of you would touch your food.

She was behaving until she wasn’t.

You still don’t really know what set her off, but one moment she was sitting prettily and staring up at you with her golden eyes and the next she was breaking free from her leash and sprinting down the street and out of your sight.

You posted on social media asking everyone to be on the lookout for your Hazel and called your friends to help you search for her. You spent hours walking up and down the city streets and through the park that you frequented with Hazel. You called all of the shelters and animal control to see if anyone had brought Hazel to them instead of calling you. You talked to anyone and everyone that you passed on the street, asking if they’d seen your girl.

You tried so much to get your girl back, but nothing panned out.

You were in tears and your feet were sore from walking all over the goddamn city by the time you and the others returned to your apartment, resigned to wait for someone to contact you. Just as you were about to say goodnight to everyone and turn in for the night (read: cry yourself to sleep), your phone rang, and an unfamiliar number flashed across the screen. You shushed your friends and answered the phone.

Please be someone who found Hazel. Please be someone who found Hazel. Please be someone who found Hazel.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of his voice, and for a moment you forgot that you had just been on the verge of a panic attack. “Take a deep breath for me, okay. I can practically feel you panicking through the phone. I have Hazel. She’s okay.”

“Thank you,” you breathed, nodding at your friends in response to their questioning looks. “Thank you so much, Bucky. Is she okay? Where did you find her? Should I meet you somewhere?”

He chuckled. “She’s fine. A little dirty, but she’s fine. As for where I found here...Well, I think your dog has a little crush on me, sweetheart.”

You grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and slipped it on before grabbing your keys. “What does that mean?”

“I came home and found her wandering around the courtyard at my apartment.” He sounded far too amused with the situation, and you definitely weren’t feeling up to dealing with his smug attitude. “She certainly made herself at home here. I may need to fight for shared custody after this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just tell me where I should meet you.”

“I’ll send you my address.”

And just as he had told you, as soon as you ended the call, he shared his location with you. You swiftly assured Carol and Val that Hazel was okay, and you asked them to lock up when they left before beginning your walk to Bucky’s apartment.

Ten minutes later, you were sat on the floor of his living room, holding Hazel close to you and alternating between scolding her and telling her how much you love her as you tried to hold your tears at bay. Bucky sat on the couch, arms rested on his knees as he watched the teary-eyed reunion with a small smile curling his lips.

“You know, sweetheart,” he spoke up, drawing your attention away from Hazel, and you finally noticed the muddy paw prints on the front of his white tee. “I’m not much of a dog-person but-”

You gasped, covering Hazel’s floppy ears. “How dare you say such nonsense in front of Hazel!” You pressed a kiss between her eyes, whispering, “It’s okay, girl. Bucky didn’t mean it.”

“I did,” he countered, chuckling when you glared at him. “I’m more of a cat-person, but I suppose I can make an exception for Hazel. After all, she seems pretty attached to me. Not that I can blame her.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “She has awful taste in men,” you teased.

“I don’t know,” he argued. “People say that dogs are impeccable judges of character.”

You stood, dusting your jeans off and turned to face Bucky. “Thank you,” you told him, the sincerity clear in your voice. “I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t find her. I- I seriously owe you. Whatever you want, just name it.”

His blue eyes twinkled with mischief, and you immediately regretted your offer. “What about shared custody of Hazel?”

“Whatever you want that’s not that, just name it,” you amended.

“What about a date?” he asked instead.

Your eyes widened in surprise and you gaped like a fish, mouth opening and closing, opening and closing, over and over again as you tried to form a response. You certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He watched you with curious eyes, waiting patiently for your answer. Finally, the gears in your brain began to turn again and you answered, “As flattered as I am, I’m not really looking to date right now.”

Disappointment flashed across his features, but he smiled and all trace of disappointment was gone in an instant. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. You don’t owe me anything for being a decent person and making sure Hazel got back to you.”

You smiled softly at him, your fingers carding through Hazel’s fur. “Thank you, Bucky. Really.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

After that night - and after you and Bucky officially had each other’s numbers - you and he would text throughout the week, and you often sent him pictures of Hazel being increasingly goofy as the days wore on. You’d even invited him to the park one Sunday to see Hazel again, but he’d quickly turned you down, asking for a rain check.

He had a date, after all.

So instead, you took Hazel to the park and sent him pictures of the pretty pup lounging in the sunshine, greeting other dogs that passed by, and even licking the camera lens on your phone when she finally noticed you holding your phone out towards her to get the perfect angle. A smile never failed to appear on your face every time he sent a heart eyes meme in response.

Despite the near constant texting, you didn’t see Bucky again for over three weeks, and you’d only seen him because you had run into his friend Steve at the dog park.

It took a moment for you to realize that the brown and white dog that Hazel had instantly greeted once she’d been released from her leash was Dodger, but as soon as the realization sunk in, you looked around for Bucky.

There weren’t many people present, but you couldn’t find Bucky among the dog parents that lingered around the edges of the dog park.

You crouched down to greet Dodger, scratching him behind the ears and happily accepting his greeting kisses. “Hello, handsome. Is your uncle Bucky here?”

“Y/N?”

You turned your head in the direction of the voice, and you furrowed your brows when you saw a tall blond man that you didn’t recognize. Holy shit, was Hazel a handsome stranger magnet? “Do I know you?” you asked, doing your absolute best to keep your voice steady.

“Right, sorry,” he laughed. “I’m Steve. Bucky’s mentioned you a few times.”

You put two and two together quickly. “You’re Dodger’s dad!”

You spent the better part of the next hour chatting with Steve as Dodger and Hazel chased one another around the enclosed area, and you sent a picture of you and Steve to Bucky, happily claiming that Steve was telling you all of Bucky’s most embarrassing stories. (Bucky had sent a text to Steve within seconds of reading your text, but Steve refused to tell you what Bucky had said all while laughing so hard he nearly cried).

By the time Hazel and Dodger were laying at yours and Steve’s feet, panting and entirely worn out from an afternoon of playing, you were ready to say your goodbyes, but Steve quickly caught your attention before you could go.

“I’m meeting Bucky and a few other friends at the bar in about an hour. Would you be interested in getting a drink?” he asked, smiling so widely at you that you just couldn’t say no.

And that was how, after dropping Hazel off at home and making sure she was fed and had a full bowl of water, you found yourself at a sports bar, slinking through the Friday night crowd towards a table in the back.

You spotted Bucky immediately, and you smiled widely when his eyes widened and he choked on his beer before promptly standing to greet you. “What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart?” you heard one of the men you didn’t recognize ask the others.

“Y/N,” Steve explained, and as if that was all they needed to know, the other two nodded. Steve smiled up at you, greeting, “Glad you found the place okay.”

Bucky quickly ushered you into the booth, sticking you between him and the only other woman present. As he introduced you to the others - Clint, Sam, and Nat - his arm snaked around your shoulders casually.

“So you’re the famous Y/N,” Sam asked, a teasing smile on his face as his gaze flitted from you to Bucky, and Bucky groaned in response.

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t necessarily say ‘famous’.”

“Oh, trust me,” Sam said, “as much as this guy talks about you, I’d say you’re pretty damn famous in our circle.”

You glanced at Bucky, biting your lip in a futile attempt to hide your amused smile. “Is that right?”

He huffed. “Hazel’s the real famous one, sweetheart.”

“Liar,” Nat accused. She turned to you, one perfectly shaped brow raising. “For weeks, it was Hazel’s mom this and Hazel’s mom that, and after that it was Y/N sent me this picture and Y/N told me this joke. I feel like I already know you, and I just met you.”

“So how’s Hazel?” Bucky asked in a clear attempt to change the topic. “Did she have a fun day with Dodger?”

You spent your evening getting to know Bucky’s friends better, sharing stories about Hazel, and listening intently anytime one of them told you a story about Bucky that had your sides aching from laughter. At the end of the evening, you had four new contacts in your phone and plans to meet up with Nat for lunch the following week.

“Need me to walk you home, sweetheart?” Bucky asked when you walked out together, but you shook your head.

“Nah.” You held up your phone, showing him the screen. “I got an Uber.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Okay. Text me when you get home?”

“Of course.” A red Toyota Camry pulled up to the curb, and after confirming it was the car that was supposed to pick you up, you stepped towards it. Ever the gentleman, Bucky opened the door for you, and you slid into the backseat. “Good night, Bucky.”

It was while you laid in bed that night, unable to sleep while Hazel snored beside you, that you realized that the handsome park stranger - the one that was more of a cat-person but would make an exception for Hazel; the one that was dating Steve depending on who you asked; the one that was constantly talking about you to his friends so much that they felt like they already knew you - had wormed his way into your heart.

Did that make Hazel your wing-woman? She certainly did have a proclivity for bringing you and Bucky together, even in indirect ways.

He was on your mind all night and throughout the following day, and by the time your customary trip to the park rolled around on Sunday afternoon, you were buzzing with anticipation. Would he be there again? Would Hazel inexplicably get loose from her leash and lead you straight to the man that had you feeling like a teenager with a crush again?

As romantic as it might have been, you didn’t want to leave those answers up to fate. Instead, you sent him a text not long after you woke up, letting him know where he could find you if he wanted to see Hazel that afternoon.

Unsurprisingly, it was Hazel that saw Bucky first that afternoon when he arrived at the park, and unsurprisingly, she tore her leash from your grip and sprinted towards him, nearly tackling him as he crouched closer to the ground to greet her.

Surprisingly, you were actually jealous of your dog as you watched her give him sloppy, wet kisses.

“What’s that look for, sweetheart?” Bucky asked, angling his face away from Hazel. “Everything okay?”

��Quick question,” you told him. “Is that date still on the table?”

He grinned at you with that smug grin that you had scoffed at the day you first met, that same smug grin that made your heart flutter in your chest and made your breath catch in your throat and made you want to press kisses to his face and-

“I was wondering when you’d take me up on the offer, sweetheart.”

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pikapeppa · 3 years

Text

Fenris/f!Hawke: Imagine

In which Fenris and Rynne Hawke laze around naked in bed on a rainy day because I LOVE THEM. It’s been almost a year since I wrote them and they deserve no less. 😭❤❤ Dedicated to @varric-tethras-editor, who sent me the perfect song rec and thus made this oneshot possible. ILU BABE. ❤❤❤

~5300 words. NSFW. Read here on AO3 instead.

*********************************

Fenris sighed and gazed languidly at the velvet canopy overhead. He was lying naked in Hawke’s bed, his body half-covered with her rumpled blankets and half-covered by a sleeping and equally naked Hawke, and he was incredibly content.

Hawke shifted slightly in her sleep, sliding her thigh over his to sandwich his leg between her own, and he smiled to himself as he trailed his fingers over her shoulder. Her room was quiet but for the drumming of rain against the window, and aside from the thin sliver of hazy rain-dimmed light peeking through the curtains, the room’s only source of light was the oil lamp on her bedside table. As Fenris enjoyed the sound of the rain and the cozy glow of Hawke’s bedroom and the heat of her bare skin, he mused idly about the fact that this bed was the finest place in all of Thedas, and perhaps he and Hawke should seriously consider never leaving this bed again.

“Fenris?” she said.

He hadn’t realized she was awake. “Hm?” he murmured.

“Did you imagine that this would happen?” she asked.

He smirked. “When you began removing your clothes in the kitchen, I had a pretty good notion that we would end up here.”

She lifted her head from his chest and gave him a lascivious grin. “Ooh, that’s a saucy response. Trying to seduce me again, are you?”

Her pixie-short hair was a charmingly tufty mess, and Fenris smiled fondly at her as he replied. “I get the impression I wouldn’t have to try very hard if I was.”

She laughed. “Excuse you! Are you calling me easy?”

“Would you really rather play hard to get?” he drawled.

She broke into laughter, then rolled on top of him. “Look at you, being such a smooth talker,” she teased. “You’re in quite the mood tonight.”

“Look outside, Hawke,” he said dryly. “It’s not nearly evening yet.”

“I don’t want to look outside,” she said. “I’m busy looking at something far nicer.”

She was looking at him, of course. He gave her a chiding smile. “You flatter me.”

“Every chance I get,” she purred.

He chuckled, and her smile widened. “What, no clever response? Does this mean I won?”

“I wasn’t aware that this was a competition,” he said.

She tutted. “Of course it’s a competition! It’s a battle of wits.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “It is not.”

“It absolutely is!” she said. “And you started it with your whole, ‘when you began removing your clothes in the kitchen…’” She dropped her voice to an exaggeratedly low and growly tone of voice, and Fenris smirked at the terrible imitation.

“That wasn’t a witty remark,” he said. “It was the truth.”

She scoffed. “Please. You said it as though I’ve never taken my clothes off in the kitchen before.”

“That is my point,” he said. “Every time you take your clothes off in the kitchen, your meaning is pretty clear.”

“That’s not true!” she protested. “Sometimes I take off my clothes in the kitchen if it’s hot. Or if… um…”

He raised one eyebrow expectantly, and she waved him off. “Anyway, that’s hardly relevant. What’s relevant is that this is a battle of wits, and I won.”

“It is not,” he replied. “And you did not.”

She pointed at him. “Ah-ha! Which is it, then? Is it not a battle of wits, or is it a battle of wits and I didn’t win?”

He blinked at her, then frowned. “It’s… you’re being difficult on purpose.”

She let out a husky little laugh. “Trying to avoid the question, are you? Nice try, serrah. I think you just don’t like losing.”

“Have you not witnessed me playing wicked grace with Varric?” he said flatly. “I’m no stranger to losing.”

“Which is why you don’t want to lose now,” she replied. She playfully poked his abs. “Come on, Fenris, keep trading insults with me.”

He grabbed her poking finger and gave her a chiding look. “We weren’t trading insults. We were trading witticisms.”

“So you admit that it was a battle of wits!” she crowed.

He gave her an exasperated look, then abruptly rolled her onto her back and settled between her legs, and she broke into laughter.

He smiled at her, helpless in the face of her brilliant mirth, and when she settled, he brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Don’t vilify me by suggesting I would trade insults with you,” he said quietly. “You’ll hear no insults from me.”

“I won’t?” she said, still smiling her signature cheeky smile. “What will I hear instead?”

He huffed. She was utterly irrepressible, even when she was trapped beneath him. He skimmed his lips over her cheek, then placed a small kiss at the delicate spot where her jawline met her smooth neck.

Her back arched slightly, and Fenris smiled to himself before brushing his lips over her ear. “The only words you’ll be hearing tonight are words of praise,” he murmured.

A soft sigh left her lips — a sigh so soft that he felt it against his cheek more than he heard it. When she spoke, it was in a husky tone that seemed to pulse between his legs.

“Look outside, Fenris,” she breathed. “It’s not nearly evening yet.”

He scoffed. Even now, when the heat and lust between them was swelling like the rising of the tide, she was taunting him.

“Shut up, Hawke,” he whispered, and he kissed her.

His kiss was firm, his lips sealing over hers and coaxing them apart so his tongue could stroke the heated length of hers. He kissed her carefully and thoroughly, savouring the softness of her lips contrasted with the firm stroke of her tongue tangling with his.

Hawke made a soft little noise, a contented little whimpery-sigh, and Fenris revelled in the sound and the feeling of her feet sliding over his calves. He lifted his chest slightly to twine his fingers with hers, then pressed her hands firmly into the mattress and pressed himself into the cradle of her hips. His cock wasn’t at full mast quite yet — no great surprise, considering that this was their third bout of the day. But still, despite his semi-hard state, she broke the kiss with a breathy little gasp when his cock nestled against her feminine folds — ah, her slick folds, still slippery from their earlier tryst…

He exhaled against her cheek, then kissed her more firmly than before. She was so soft and plush against his hardness, so slick and warm and perfect, and… damn it, he wasn’t ready yet. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still enjoy her, and in a way that he knew without a doubt that she would enjoy as well.

He released her wrists and sat back on his heels, shoving the sheets and blankets aside as he did, and Rynne sat up on her elbows. “What — where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” he said. “I’m not such a fool as to leave you here like this. Lie back.” He shifted down on the bed, then pushed her thighs apart.

She gasped and twisted her hips, lifting them from the bed, and Fenris gazed hungrily at her sex. She was slick and swollen, her folds flushed a mouth-watering rosy red and her clit a delicate little bud that was just begging to be touched, and Fenris swallowed hard before pressing his lips to the inner margin of her thigh.

Venhedis, she smelled heavenly. He inhaled slowly and kissed her thigh again, a small open-mouthed kiss to taste the slippery nectar on her skin, and she reached down and gently pulled his hair. “Fenris, wait,” she whimpered. “Wait, wait…”

He looked up in surprise. It wasn’t like her to stop him when he was about to go down on her. “Is something the matter?” he asked.

“No no, nothing’s wrong, nothing at all,” she panted. “I just — are you sure you want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked in bemusement.

“Because you already…” She winced slightly. “I mean, you already left your joy juice down below.”

He stared at her for a second, then wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Joy juice?”

A grin broke across her lust-flushed face. “Not a fan of that term?”

“Absolutely not,” he said flatly. “Are you trying to put me off?”

She barked out a laugh. “No, no! I just— I mean, you already came inside me earlier. Are you sure you want to go down when you’re just going to taste your own, you know, stuff?”

“‘Stuff?’” he said in disbelief.

She laughed again, more heartily than before. “Stop making fun of me!”

“Then stop being ridiculous,” he replied.

“That’s not possible, I’m afraid,” she said loftily. “Ridiculous is my middle name. Rynne ‘Ridiculous’ Hawke, that’s what they—”

He dipped his head down and licked her, and she gasped and bucked her hips. “Fuck!”

She was right; he could taste the slightly-bitter flavour of his own semen from earlier that afternoon. But underneath his own taste was hers, the sweet and salty musk of her, of Hawke, the exquisite flavour of her pleasure and her desire, and Fenris wasn’t bothered by his own taste when Hawke’s private flavour was so enticing.

He licked her again, a slow and careful caress of his tongue that ended with a gentle teasing flick of her clit, and she fisted her hands in the sheets. “Fenris…”

He grumbled softly in response as he licked her again, and she moaned and lifted her hips toward his mouth. He happily met her body’s wordless request, smoothing two fingers lovingly over her folds before placing another wet-opened mouthed kiss between her legs, and she burst out another musical moan.

“Mm,” she whimpered. “Mm, please…” She was rolling her hips, one hand fisted in the sheets as her other hand rested on his hair, and as he smoothed his tongue between her lower lips and kissed her clit, he marvelled at the fact that she wanted him this much. He’d done this once today already and fucked her twice, and still she was this eager for him? It was… truly, it was flattering — flattering and comforting. To be so desired by Hawke, to be so reassured that his desire for her was wholeheartedly returned: it was still something of a novelty, even with two months’ worth of togetherness between them, and he could feel a pleasant sort of ache swelling in his chest as he tasted her sex.

He lapped tenderly at her pussy, then kissed her tender clit before circling his tongue around the tiny bud in a way that he knew she especially liked. She mewled loudly and bucked her hips, and Fenris felt a warm sort of pride at knowing her well enough that he knew how to make her react in such an enthusiastic way.

“Yes,” she gasped, and her fingertips pressed into his scalp. “Fenris, please, please...”

He grumbled his assent, stroking her inner thighs and tracing her clit with his tongue, and she whimpered more loudly and flexed her hips. “Maker’s balls, ah, Fenris—”

He brushed his lower lip over her clit, and she shuddered and gasped. “Yes! Yes, fuck, I—”

“I know,” he said softly. “I know what you want, Hawke. Just relax.”

She burst out a breathy laugh and stroked his hair. “You’re licking me like this, and you want me to relax? How am I—”

He slid one finger inside of her and curled his finger, and she arched her spine and cried out. “Fuck yes!”

He pulled his finger free, then began kissing and caressing her clit with his lower lip in a slightly faster rhythm. Hawke mewled and gripped the sheets and tugged his hair, making her rising pleasure known with her voice and her body and her slickness that was painting his chin and the bed beneath her bottom, and Fenris felt his pulse thrumming and rising in time with the rising of her pleasure: her pleasure, the pleasure that was heralded by her taste on his tongue and her beautiful whimpery cries and the tense yet graceful grinding of her hips as she met his lips and tongue…

She dragged in a gasp, then scraped her nails over her chest and released a strained cry of rapture. Fenris reached up and grabbed her hand to stop her from marring her golden skin with her nails, all without slowing the careful rhythm of his mouth moving between her legs, and he didn’t stop until Hawke’s hips settled back onto the bed.

She released a long and breathy moan and ran her fingers through his hair, and he wiped his mouth on her inner thigh before lifting his head to look at her.

Her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted. Her expression was a perfect picture of pleasure and languid lust, and Fenris admired her as he spoke. “It sounds like you enjoyed that.”

She opened her eyes, then propped herself on one elbow and give him a sly smile. “Are you preening, Fenris?”

“I don’t preen,” he said with dignity, but she was right; he was preening. Could he really be blamed for preening, though, when his humble tongue and lips had drawn such a symphony of pleasured sounds from Hawke’s throat?

She laughed, then shifted onto her knees and crooked her finger at him. “Come here, handsome. Give me a kiss.”

He smirked and shifted onto his knees so he was facing her, then placed his hands on her hips and leaned in for a kiss. But before he could meet her raspberry-red lips, she wrapped her fingers around his cock.

A rush of surprise and pleasure pulsed between his legs. He gasped, and Hawke kissed his parted lips, slanting her mouth over his and probing her slick tongue into his mouth as she stroked his steel-hard cock, and he gripped her hips and mindlessly fell into her kiss as her silk-soft palm stoked the simmer of want in his abdomen into a full-blown fiery lust.

He groaned into her mouth and pulled her closer, gripping her ass to try and lift her onto his lap, but she suddenly released him and pushed at his chest. “Lie back,” she said huskily. “I want to suck your cock.”

Her blunt words were like fuel for his lust, sending a pulse of eager heat through his limbs, and he obediently shifted onto his back as Hawke settled herself on her knees beside him. Before he was even fully settled, she stroking his cock and his thigh and leaning over him and tracing his length with her tongue and oh, oh yes, his — she — venhedis please, the hot slickness of her mouth…

He fell back on the pillows and lifted his hips toward her mouth, enjoying the pressure and pull of her lips and mouth as they moved smoothly up and down his shaft. For a long, mindless, perfect moment, he just savoured the feeling of her mouth between his legs, but when she lifted her mouth to stroke his cock with her hand instead, he dimly realized why she might feel that she had to use her hand instead of her mouth.

He breathed slowly to gather the wits to speak. “Hawke,” he groaned. “I’m… sorry, it may… it may take some time.”

“Some—? Oh, because you already came twice today?” she said.

He huffed a breathless laugh. “Are you preening?”

“Me?” she said innocently. “I never preen. Not even when I make you come so hard that you start cursing in Tevene.”

He scoffed at the reminder of this morning’s tryst, then jerked his hips and moaned when she circled her palm over the sensitive head of his cock. “F-fasta vass...”

“Ooh, was that more Tevene cursing I heard?” she said.

He tried to laugh, but it came out as another moan. “Quit preening,” he complained breathlessly, and he lifted his hips.

She grinned slowly at him and resumed her stroking his cock. “I like when you use that bossy tone. Don’t worry, take your time to finish. I’m a patient woman.”

“You are not,” he groaned. “You’re notorious for your lack of patience.”

“Oh, Fenris,” she purred. “When it comes to having this gorgeous cock of yours in my mouth, I’ve got all sorts of patience.” She dipped her head down and took his cock into her mouth once more.

Fenris gasped and bucked his hips instinctively, driving his cock further into her throat, but his bucking didn’t seem to bother Hawke; she angled her head and continued to suckle him thoroughly and deeply, moving her lips up and down his shaft and taking him so deep into her throat that he could feel her throat as an embrace from the root of his cock to the tip, and Fenris stared adoringly at her as she sucked him. Her commitment to her task was obvious, like she was trying to put every diligent scrap of attention into bringing him to his slow but inevitable climax, and he eventually curled his arm behind his head so as to watch her more comfortably as she sucked his cock.

Then she turned her head slightly and met his eye.

He stopped breathing. Her eyes, her honey-golden eyes, the way they were lit by the oil lamps and by the inner fire of her own passionate soul: her eyes were knowing and sly and tender all at once, and Fenris stared breathlessly at her, snared by the lust and love in her face as she continued to suckle his cock. He was snared by the way she was looking at him, the way she was suckling him and the way she was making his breath come in harsh gasping grunts—

She suddenly released his cock and sat back on her heels, and he burst out a moan at the sudden abandonment. “Hawke,” he begged.

“Sorry,” she blurted. “I’m sorry, I just — I can’t—”

“Don’t — i-it’s all right,” he panted, even though his cock was throbbing relentlessly for release. He squeezed her thigh with a trembling hand. “Is your jaw hurting?”

“No,” she said. “No, it’s not — I just…” She broke off and straddled his hips, then rubbed herself against the length of his cock.

He burst out a guttural groan and grabbed her hips. “Hawke, please…”

She planted her palms on his pecs and rubbed her slick hot cleft along his length again. “I’m sorry,” she panted. “I m-meant to finish you in my mouth but I — fuck, Fenris, just look at you.” She smoothed her palms over his chest.

“I’d rather look at you,” he said breathlessly. “You — Hawke, you’re — ah...” He broke off with a moan as she stroked his cock with her pussy, then placed one hand over hers and gripped it.

Her gaze rose from his chest to his face, and he squeezed her hand again. “The sight of you surpasses my wildest imaginings,” he told her seriously. “Seeing you here, feeling you like this: no amount of fantasies could compare with this reality. The reality of you.”

Her heated expression softened and curled into a smile — a smile that was distinctly tender with affection. “You’re such a smooth talker,” she said, and she lifted her hips and traced her fingers over his cock.

He inhaled shakily, and Hawke bent forward and kissed him. A second later, he was inside of her.

He moaned in bliss, and Hawke captured the sound with his tongue. Her hands were cradling his neck, her hips rolling against his in a smooth rhythm that felt like he was feeling every slick inch of her intimate heat, and he drew his fingertips from her shoulder blades down along her back before settling his palms firmly on her buttocks.

He gently squeezed her bottom, then pulled her more firmly onto his cock, and she broke the kiss with a gasp. “Mm,” she whimpered. “Oh Maker…”

Goaded by her pleasure, he pulled her against his hips again and pumped himself more firmly into her, and she released his neck to plant one hand on the bed beside his head. “Fuck,” she moaned. “Fuck, Fenris, that’s…”

“Is it good?” he panted.

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes, you’re so — so fucking deep, ah!” She cried out again and clenched both fists in the the sheets, and Fenris thrust into her more firmly.

She let out a mewling cry and squeezed her eyes shut, her beautiful face twisting with a combination of pleasure and need, and Fenris admired her as he gripped her ass and thrust into her. When a broken little sob burst from her throat, he lifted one hand and squeezed her arm. “Hawke,” he gritted out.

“Mhm?” she moaned.

“Take what you need from me,” Fenris gasped. “Fuck me as you need to. I am yours.”

Her eyes opened, and the scorching need in her face stalled his breath for a moment. Then she planted her palms on his pecs once more and began fucking him hard.

He gasped, then groaned, then stop paying attention entirely to his own breath, too preoccupied by her heat and her tightness and how incredible she felt as she rocked against him in a furious rhythm of need. Her fingers were digging into his chest and he could feel sweat collecting at the meeting point of their thighs, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care — he couldn’t care, not when Hawke felt so good, fucking him hard and fast and making him feel like he was striking the deepest part of her. Her face was contorted with pleasure and an exquisite sort of longing that he felt deep inside his chest, like a fist of longing and love wrapping around his heart, and it was like his entire body was filling up, swelling with Hawke’s love and her need and the pleasure he took from her as she fucked him swiftly, so swiftly: fasta vass, the swiftness, the rush, the rise of it, the rising of her, please, Hawke please, please...

She sobbed again and shuddered, and Fenris moaned helplessly as the pressure and heat of her became almost overwhelmingly good. “Rynne,” he begged. “P-please…”

She stroked his cheek. “Anything,” she whimpered. “Anything you want, Fenris, it’s yours, anything—”

“More,” he groaned. “More of this, more…”

She lifted herself and came down hard on his cock, and a sharp cry burst from his throat. “More!”

She began fucking him hard again, hard swift thrusts as she rose and fell on his supine body, and he stared at her as she rode him wantonly, barely breathing, heart pounding in his ears and throat. Heat was rising in his cheeks and swelling in his chest, ratcheting higher and closer in the depths of his abdomen and between his legs — heat, pleasure, ecstasy, Hawke...

His orgasm struck in a stunning rush, pleasure bursting through his abdomen and his limbs and forcing his spine into an arch as he groaned and shuddered and mindlessly gripped her thighs. When Hawke cupped his face and kissed him, he gave himself over to her completely, parting his lips and welcoming her hot ferocious tongue and her fierce but gentle teeth as she nipped his lower lip.

She gently sucked his lower lip, and he moaned and shuddered before wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. He held her close as the ripples of pleasure spanned his limbs, savouring the sticky heat of her skin and the slick heat of her tongue stroking his, and only when his climax had completely ebbed away did he loosen his embrace.

Hawke gentled the kiss equally slowly, lapping lightly at his lips instead of delving deep with her tongue, and by the time she lifted her lips from his, he was languorous with bliss.

He smiled faintly without opening his eyes, and she chuckled and gently pinched his chin. “Look at this smug little smile,” she teased, and she lifted herself off of his cock with a groan.

He opened his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said, but she was grimacing as she settled herself beside him in bed.

Concerned, he rolled toward her and cradled her neck in his palm. “Hawke, if you’re hurt—”

“I’m not hurt,” she assured him. “I just — it’s my thighs. I fucked you too hard.”

He burst out a little laugh. “Excuse me?”

She grinned and settled on her side facing him. “I fucked you too hard. My thighs are going to be in a whole world of pain tomorrow.”

“Ah. I understand,” he said, and he smoothed his palm over her hip. “That’s a decent cause for pain. I retract my pity.”

She laughed and poked his chest. “Well, that’s rude. See if I ever fuck you that hard again.”

He gave her a knowing look, and she laughed again. “I know, I know. I’m full of shit. Actually, one could argue that if I fuck you hard like that every day, it’ll be excellent exercise for my thighs!”

“Excellent reasoning indeed,” he drawled. “And I suppose I’m just a prop for this exercise of yours?”

She grinned and propped her cheek on her fist. “You can try and resist me, if you like.”

He eyed her in amusement. Her expression was somehow both innocent and cheeky at once. “I can try?” he said dryly.

“Yes, you can try,” she said cheerfully. “But you won’t succeed. I’m irresistible, in case you didn’t notice.”

He scoffed and pinched her waist. She squeaked and flinched, and Fenris pinched her again, then began tickling her mercilessly.

She burst into laughter, then rolled onto her back and pulled her knees up to her chest to guard herself. “Stop, stop!” she gasped. “I give in! I’m done teasing you, I promise!”

“Good,” he growled. “Now I can get some rest.” He rolled onto his back, then drew her close until she was curled up against his chest.

She sighed happily and settled her ear on his chest, and he smiled and closed his eyes. Then he remembered the conversation that had precipitated all of this — the conversation that they hadn’t finished.

“Hawke, what did you mean before?” he asked.

“When?” she mumbled.

“Before, when you asked if I could imagine something.”

She lifted her head. “Oh yes! When you began teasing me, you mean?”

He smiled faintly, but didn’t rise to her playful bait this time. “Yes, that. I wasn’t sure what you meant.”

Her cheeky smile softened, and she propped her cheek on her fist once more. “I was just wondering if… you know, if…” She shrugged and dropped his gaze, and he eyed her curiously. It was unlike her to be this hesitant.

“What is it?” he said gently.

She glanced at him again, and her expression was endearingly coy. “Did you ever really think we’d be… you know, like this?” she asked.

“Like this in what way?” Fenris asked.

“This comfortable so quickly,” she said. She trailed her fingers along his naked chest. “It just feels easy being together. Like we’re on the same page. It’s very cozy.” She lifted her eyes from his chest to his face, and his heart squeezed at the candid affection in her eyes. “Did you ever think it would be this easy to be together after how long it took us to get our shit together?”

He sobered a little bit at this. “You don’t need to take any responsibility for the time we wasted being apart. That was my doing.”

She tsked. “Oh come on, you handsome fool, it wasn’t your fault. It’s just the way it needed to be. And besides, we’re here now!” She sighed happily and traced her fingers over his bare skin. “Here we are, and everything’s great. We’re all naked in my bed and covered in your joy juice—”

He grunted in disgust and pinched her bum, and she giggled and tapped his chest. “I mean it, Fenris. Did you ever imagine it would be this easy?”

He exhaled slowly. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I… when I imagined this — imagined us together, that is, I… the things I imagined were…” He frowned as he tried to formulate his thoughts. “I didn’t really think about how it would be,” he finally said. “I just wanted it. I wanted you. For years, it has felt like I was running toward you — running toward the idea of you, of… of us being together.”

To his surprise, her smile faded a bit, leaving a look of vulnerability on her face. “And now that we’re together, do you…” She dropped his gaze again. “Does it feel like something’s over now that you caught me?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Not at all. It is the opposite of that.” He rose onto his elbows to look her straight in the eye. “Things are possible now that I could never have imagined without you. My imaginings were nothing compared to this, and now I cannot imagine a life without you by my side.”

Her face lit up in a smile — a brilliant, joyful smile that made his heart feel like it was filling with hot water. She gently pinched his chin. “Good,” she said softly. “I feel the same way.”

I know, he thought tenderly. He didn’t need Hawke to tell him that she felt the same way, because he had known it for years. She had shown him her feelings for years, supporting him and cheering him up and waiting for him while he sorted through the emotional quagmire of his past. She had shown him countless times how she felt about him, and he didn’t need her to tell him for him to know it was true.

He slid his palm around the nape of her neck and drew her in for a kiss. She was smiling even as she kissed him, and he couldn’t help but smile as well.

When Hawke started to laugh against his lips, however, Fenris was forced to pull away. “What is it?” he said in exasperation. “Why are you laughing now?”

“No reason,” she said. She arranged her face into a feeble veneer of innocence. “I was just thinking we could get a bath.”

“A bath? Now?” he said in surprise. She usually enjoyed lingering in bed with him for as long as possible.

She nodded. “I thought maybe you’d want to wash off some of your joy juice.”

He twisted his lips in distaste, and she laughed and patted his cheek. “I love your face when you squinch it up like this,” she giggled.

He scoffed and pulled her hand away. “I’m only making this face because you keep saying that… vile-sounding phrase.”

“What phrase? Joy juice?” she said. Her lips were curling in a shit-eating grin, and Fenris gazed at her with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“Stop saying that,” he said sternly.

“Joy juice,” Hawke said promptly. “Joy juice, joy juice, joy—”

Fenris pounced on her and pinned her to the bed, and she burst into laughter. Her barking laughter was loud and uninhibited and joyful, a ring of mirth more clear and crystalline than a Chantry bell, and he felt like her mirth was echoing in his chest and resonating in time with the beat of his heart.

He grinned at her, then lowered himself over her and kissed her again. She was warm and pliant and fragrant with sandalwood and sex, and as Fenris sank into the loving embrace of her open arms, he savoured just how wonderful she was, and how real.

Hawke was better than his fondest fantasies, because she was real. She was real, with her stupid jokes and her bravado-masked melancholy and her gentle mage’s hands. Her lips were real, her legs around his waist and her hands on his neck and her fingers in his hair, and he didn’t need fondly detailed imaginings when his reality was so incredibly dear.

With Hawke in his arms and his heart, Fenris didn’t need any sort of imaginings at all.

#fenris #fenris smut #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenrynne #pikapeppa writes

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chubbybuckydumpling · 3 years

Text

Royally Screwed

words: 4.2k

pairing: chubby!stableboy!bucky x royal!female!reader

warnings: arguing, period (probably not) accurate problems, smut, fluff, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, power dynamics

A/n: dear anon, I’m sorry it took me 2 months to write this, I hope you’re not too upset. I changed the original prompt a little, I hope you still like it! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

My Masterlist

The wind is blowing through your hair, a cool breeze that relieves you from the hot summer sun. Your horse is galloping under you, his strong legs taking you over the loose ground. The rays warm your face, a welcome sensation. You missed this, riding through the afternoon, taking time to just live, all troubles and worries forgotten.

Admiral has always been close to you, your first horse and best friend since you were twelve years old, merely a child. The Arabian Stallion slows down to a trot on your command, the high grass tickling his side. You let your hands roam over his dark mane, feeling the sturdy hair under your fingers.

A single bumblebee flies ahead of you, its loud buzz making you smile. The scene around you makes your heart feel lighter, a warm feeling that floats through your chest. You let Admiral come to a halt and slide down from your saddle.

You trail your hand over the horse’s muscles, the short hair caressing your palm. His strong snout nudges your arm and he neighs, causing you to giggle, “You did so well, boy” You wrap your arms around Admiral’s muscular throat.

His scent fills your nose, it’s familiarity never fails to bring you comfort. The animal scratches over the earthy ground as the sound of hooves hitting the floor ripples through the air. You whip around, parting yourself from your companion. A little further away, you see two of the guards coming your way. Their horses are quick and strong, but they have nothing on your Admiral.

“Lady Y/n”, they yell out and you can’t help but roll your eyes. The men reach you quickly, panic in their eyes, “Your highness, you must remain in close proximity for us to successfully protect you at any time”, one of them states, trying to deepen his voice.

“Of course”, you smile at them, “it wasn’t my intention” A lie. You purposely mislead them to have a moment of your own, some quiet minutes of peace. The guards exchange glances until one of them shrugs. “We see. Now, it is of utmost importance to immediately escort you home. We shall keep you as safe as possible, your highness”

You sigh internally, but follow the mens’ orders without argument. Admiral snorts stubbornly, but reluctantly follows your lead.

The sound of birds singing and insects chirping brings you great joy as you gently rock back and forth with the steady trot of your horse. Unknowingly, these were the last moments you would spend outside of the castle for quite some time.

The guards at the gate salute as you pass them. The warm sun has kept you comfortable in the open where the wind was stronger, but you quickly start to heat up inside the walls of your father’s estate. Admiral soon comes to a halt in front of your mother. The woman is fuming as she approaches you, her face twisted into an angry grimace.

“Your father and I need to talk to you, young lady! You are in serious trouble”, her malicious voice hisses as you jump off of Admiral’s back. Your mother’s fingers wrap around your arm to pull you towards her, but a warm smile is on her face. A muscle in her jaw twitches and exposes her true anger. She speaks to one of your guards, but you can’t be bothered to listen for something has caught your attention.

A man has walked up to your horse to pet his head. He is gentle with Admiral, careful and loving even. You let your eyes rake over the man. The typical stable boy clothes are obscuring your view, but you can make out the bulge of his tummy, his big arms and thick thighs. His long brown hair falls over his face, some strands are stuck to his forehead as the sweat glistens over his face. This man looks like an absolute dream and you can feel your lips twitching up.

You begin to walk towards him, a giddy feeling brewing up in your stomach, but your mother pulls you back, “Oh no, you are not getting out of this one. Follow me, now” She drags you behind her and you wish to struggle against her grasps, but won’t dare to resist her. Not at that time at least. You take one last glance in his direction, hoping to see his face, more of him. You find his gaze, stare into the warm blue of his eyes before your mother pulls you out of his view.

A sad sigh escapes your lips, but you promise yourself to go and find him as soon as possible. The way he looked at you, sweet and shy, is replaying in your head, his sweaty form a picture in your mind. Whoever that man is, he makes your insides throb with desire.

Your father’s yelling rips you out of your trance and you look up to meet his vicious glare. He takes a deep breath with closed eyes and when he meets your eyes again he looks calmer. His hand reaches out to your face, cupping your cheek.

“My daughter, what am I going to do with you?”, his voice suddenly sounds sad, “Y/n, you know that you need to enter a marriage soon. I need you to be on your best behaviour, this is about your future. I only want good things for you” You rest your palm over your father’s, “I know, father” He brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “You’re so beautiful, my only daughter. I know this isn’t what you want, but at least let me make it as pleasant as possible for you”

You sigh and stare right past your father, “I already gave my word to marry whomever you choose, father” His hand falls from your face and wraps around your fingers, “I don’t want to hand you to anyone, don’t you understand? I want someone that cares about you” He squeezes your hand, “But you need to behave,Y/n. The men of higher status, they won’t accept an ill-mannered, rebellious women”

Enraged, you rip away from his touch, “I am not ill-mannered” Your mother gasps at your outburst, but your father smiles at you. He steps forward and grabs you by the shoulders, “I know that. Believe me, I do. But these other men don’t” A sigh escapes your lips, but you nod nevertheless, “Okay, father. I will do my best” He grins and it jumps right over to you.

Your father pulls you into a warm hug and whispers to you, barely audible, “I could not be prouder of you, my child” A warm, comforting feeling spreads through your chest and you feel like a little girl, no worries or problems, just love and happiness on your mind. You pull away from the hug and watch your father’s eyes crinkle.

Your mother forces a cough and directs a pointed glare at her husband. He sighs and turns to you, “However, your mother and I have decided to ground you for the next few days. We cannot let your temperament ruin your future. We ask you to stay on the estate’s grounds” This is obviously your mother’s doing. She always cared more about your standing and reputation, but you’ve learned to just accept her orders.

“Yes, father”, you nod at them, “Mother” A satisfied look settles on the woman’s face, hands clasped tightly. “You are excused”, your father rasps and you leave the room, a sour look sneaking onto your lips. Stupid marriages. All of your life, the fact that you will be married off as soon as someone worthy shows interest, has been hovering over you, a subconscious thought that drained your energy, leaving you exhausted and numb. You can’t believe that this dreaded day is moving closer so fast.

You enter your room and sit down on your bed. The mattress gives out under your weight and perfectly molds into a comfortable shape. You let yourself fall until you’re lying flat on your back and close your eyes. Slowly, the darkness and exhaustion consumes you ,hugging you like a warm blanket.

The shine of the moonlight dancing through the window rouses you from your sleep. The light has a slight pink tint and colours the dim room in a nice shimmer. A yawn escapes your mouth and you sit up. The cool air makes goosebumps appear on your skin, yet you feel drawn to it. Suddenly, an idea pops into your mind. Surely, nobody would notice if you left for a little to see Admiral.

A grin sneaks on your lips as you wipe the nasty crumbs from your eyes. Quickly, but careful to remain silent, you dress in your warmer riding clothes, the training ones, not the dresses. Thick, warm leggings and a nice, comfortable pullover. On your way out, you grab a wooly hat to cover your ears, smiling mischievously.

Skipping, you make your way through the halls. A giddy sensation rumbles in your belly, the excitement of knowing you’re about to go on a ride. The door knob feels cool under your skin as you turn it to open it. The freezing air seeps into the kitchen, swirling around your body. Adrenaline shoots through your veins and your legs begin to move on their own, moving faster and faster until you’re running, your feet carrying you over the well known path.

You come to an abrupt stop when you see a small light in the stables, most likely a lit candle. Nervously, you sneak closer to peek around the corner. In the dim shine you manage to make out the features of the beautiful stable boy from earlier that day. His hair is falling free, framing his chubby face so beautifully.

A long sleeved linen shirt layered with a dark vest and brown trousers clad his thick form in such a delicious way. For some reason, this man made you feel things. To your surprise however, he is standing next to Admiral, gently stroking the horse’s strong, defined face. Weird, you find yourself thinking, Admiral usually does not tolerate close proximity with anyone but yourself.

That fact is seriously arousing. This beautiful man being so gentle to your hot headed horse is insanely attractive. Your heart fills with warmth the longer you watch him. He whispers into his fur, smiling adoringly at him. The stable boy’s big hands look so soft against Admiral’s fur, his thick, long digits massaging the strong muscles. You bite down on your lower lip, a sly smirk forming. This beautiful sight almost made you forget about the cold.

Your lungs fill with air as you take a breath of encouragement before you move out of the hiding spot. Making sure to move your hips extra seductively, you wander closer to the man of your desire. It’s easy to pinpoint the moment he notices you by the way his eyes double in size and his entire body freezes. The look of fear in his eyes tugs at your heartstrings.

Gently, you take a step closer to him, but he shies away from you, like a baby deer, scared and vulnerable. “Lady Y/n, I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to intrude”, he stumbles through the words, clearly afraid he upset you. You smile in hope of looking safe and not angry. “You’re fine”, your voice is gentle, almost like you’re talking to a child, “It’s impressive. Admiral really seems to like you”

He shyly looks up to you to gauge your reaction, nervously playing with his fingers. “He’s very beautiful”, the man whispers and tucks some of his loose strands of hair behind his ear. You grin, taking another step forward, “He is”, you reach out to scratch Admiral’s neck, “So are you”

A deep blush rises on his cheeks, warming his skin. You continue talking, eyes trained on the stable boy’s chubby face, smiling warmly at him, “So, what’s your name, pretty boy?” Nerves cloud his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly, “James, b- but people call me Bucky”

“That’s a real pretty name”, you purr, “Bucky”, testing out how the word feels rolling off your tongue. Lower lip between your teeth, you reach out to touch his biceps. His strong muscles flex under your touch, but it feels soft beneath your skin. Your fingertips squeeze around him as a surge of want ripples through your body.

“I saw you with Admiral this afternoon and I could not stop thinking about you. You’re so good with him, it’s very”, you smirk and lean closer to him, lips right next to his ear, “arousing”. The whispered word makes him gulp and he feels himself twitching in his loose pants. He can’t deny he feels attracted to you, especially in these casual clothes that you’re wearing right now.

He’s been eying you for months now, always hidden away in the shadows or behind corners. He heard so much gossip, so many rumours that intrigued him, but your bond with Admiral really did him in. To see how caring and tender you were with the horse made him crave the same attention from you. He wanted your affections and love, almost like he needed them, but he knew better than to approach you. His family depends on his earnings, he would not challenge that security he could provide. But now it seemed like maybe he could have both.

The close proximity makes his heart race, your breath tickling his sensitive skin. You feel his nerves, so you move even closer, pressing your body against his. He tenses up, but shyly reaches for your waist. “I really want you right now, Bucky”, you whimper, pushing your breasts forward and up against his chest. His breath catches in his throat, but he somehow finds the energy to tighten his grip on you.

The feeling of your body against his further arouses him, a shiver running down his spine. With all the courage he could muster, he looks up at you, “I really want you too” Your hands run over his chest and grip onto the edges of his vest, “Then take me”

Pulling on the leather, your mouths crash together. His rough, chapped lips fit right onto your own soft lips, a result of your maid’s tending. The smacking sound immediately helps you relax into Bucky’s frame, letting out a little sigh. With newfound confidence, he traces your lower lip with his warm tongue, leaving you yearning for a taste.

You open up for him, letting him explore your mouth. He moans at the feeling, licking into you greedily. Little glimmers of want spark in your belly, nipples hardening as the simmering pleasure begins to grow. Your saliva mixes with his, tongues dancing together in an aroused display of want.

Just as you were about to shrug off his leather vest, Admiral neighs right next to you. Bucky shrieks, jumping away from you. You stare at him, a slight fear of being caught running through you before a grin etches on your lips, laughter bubbling in your chest. Bucky mimics your giggling, his eyes crinkling adorably, lips swollen.

Grinning you pet your horse once, but turn to the chubby stable boy to pull him after you. The back of the stable is dark, only Bucky’s candle serving as a source of light. You turn around, coming face to face with the pretty boy. The golden glow makes him look so beautiful, the breath stuck in your throat. It’s completely silent, only the sounds of your breathing audible.

You gulp, stepping even closer to him. Carefully, you take his candle and place it on the floor, close to a pile of hay. “Bucky”, you whisper, “please” He takes a deep breath, but closes the distance between you two, once again connecting your mouths. Gently, he grabs you by your waist, both hands feeling warm and powerful on your body. Your own fingers wrap around his neck, playing with his beautiful hair.

With tongues intertwined, Bucky closes his arms around you to lead you towards the hay, supporting your weight. “Wait”, he mumbles against your lips, reluctantly pulling out of the embrace, “Let me just…” With care, he shrugs off his vest and places it over the hay. A soft smile spreads over your face, a funny feeling whirling in your belly. You take the chance to take off your hat.

“Well then, gentleman”, a purring sound fills the air, “I could use some help undressing” He gulps, eyes widening in arousal. Slowly his hands find your hips, fingers sliding under your shirt. The immediate warmth that seeps into your skin makes you gasp, moaning lightly at the feeling. His digits trace your skin, gently lifting up your shirt so you can take it off.

His hands roam your exposed skin, exploring your body to his full extinct, feeling every curve and uneven spot. You reach behind your back, unclasping your sturdy bra. Bucky gasps at the sight, eyes trained on your exposed breasts. Your nipples harden, once more, under his fiery gaze and you gently push his hands towards the, your body burning for his touch.

The moment his palm cups you, a needy moan escapes you which spurs Bucky on to massage your breasts with more enthusiasm, toying with your nipples. Greedily you let your hands wander under his linen shirt, reveling in the feeling of his soft skin. The chubby rolls feel delicious under your touch, gending to your wishes. You hastily free him from the offending clothing, pressing your body against his.

Arousal and need is flaming inside you and you desperately press your lips together into a hungry kiss, teeth crashing against each other. “Please, I need you so much” He nods, breathless, and gently lays you down on his vest. You catch a glimpse of his tented trousers, saliva running in your mouth, the sight so delicious, especially paired with his big thighs.

Bucky’s chubby fingers work your fuzzy leggins down your legs. The cold air causes goosebumps to raise on your skin. You hear him gasp when he looks at your exposed heat,dilated eyes transforming into a hungry stare. “You’re beautiful”, he groans, his hand cautiously travelling up your thighs. You nod as confirmation and Bucky runs two of his digits up your heat.

He traces your outer lips, your anticipation rising. You hold your breath, hands running through the hay that the vest doesn’t cover. Finally, he leans up and spits on your core, further lubricating you. He finds your clit and begins to rub gentle circles into it, a stuttered breath leaving your mouth.

Bucky trails down to your opening, carefully inserting two of his fingers into you. “Fuck”, he groans, pushing in further, “you’re so tight and wet” He starts to fuck you with them, slowly at first, then faster, his gaze set on you. The squelching noises fill the air, soon joined by your moans. Suddenly he hits a special spot and you arch your back, pressing into him as a loud, guttural groan leaves you.

Your gaze meets Bucky’s and you begin to move your hips on your own, “Please do it again, do it again” Your begging eggs him on and he adds another finger, his strong thrusts leaving you breathless. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, pleasure building up in your lower belly.

All of a sudden you feel something wet around you, followed by a suction right around your sensitive nub. You moan loudly, hands flying into his hair. His penetrating gaze meets your eyes and with an especially hard suck the coil in your tummy snaps and you cum around his fingers, your core grabbing him tightly. You feel him moan against you, but he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging the addictive high.

Finally, you regain your senses and push him away from you, too sensitive for any further stimulation. You look at him. He sits in front of you, his chin wet with your slick, chubby belly rolls folding into each other deliciously, his trousers tented with his obvious want. A smile plays over your lips, “You look so beautiful like this, James”

He perks up when you mention his name, a shy, but aroused glint in his eyes. “You really think so?”, he sounds so little your heart starts aching for him. “I’ve never seen someone as stunning as you”, you crawl up to him, hands on his cute little cheeks. You feel his breath graze your lips and lunge forward, mouth against his, tongues tangling.

One of your hands drops lower to cup him. He feels heavy in your palm and so nice. A craving awakes inside you and you squeeze him through his trousers, a lovely moan ringing in your ears. Your fingertips hook around the waistband and you pull all the bothersome clothing off of him. His cock jumps free. It looks delicious, hard and slightly curved to the side, thick veins running along the length of it. The bulbous head is covered with his foreskin, a trail of precum has made its way down some of it.

The sight of him is so beautiful, his thick thighs making you bite down on your lip. You bow down, one hand gripping his leg, the other slowly fisting his cock. You watch as the foreskin pulls back to show his wet, sensitive head. With one last look into his face, which is contorted in pleasure, you take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down on him.

He moans, hands cupping the back of your head. You suck on him, yearning for his cum, his taste .Fondling his balls, you become even more hungry for him. He smells so husky, so good, mouthwatering even. Slowly, you take him even deeper, your nose buried in the curly pubic hair. His hips stutter, pressing his length even further into your throat, a hearty groan leaving him. You splutter around him, your gag reflex kicking in.

Pulling off, you take deep breaths, spit running down your chin. “‘m sorry”, Bucky mutters, his own hand now wrapped around himself, fisting his wet cock, “It just feels so good” Your pussy clenches at his words and you lay back down, spreading your legs. “I bet this will feel even better”

Bucky groans at the sight and shuffles closer. He runs his thick head along your slit, coating it in your wetness. Managing to hit your sensitive clit with his cock, he groans, twitching in want. Gently, Bucky positions himself at your stretched hole and begins to push in. He moans, steadily spreading you over his cock until he bottoms out.

Sweat runs down Bucky’s face, pleasure and desperation filling him. He tries to refrain himself, but when you begin to whimper and grab onto his thick arms he crumbles. Bottoming out, his fat balls slap against your bum. Slowly he pulls out again, just to thrust right back into you. His cock is so hard and curved perfectly, he fits inside you so well.

The sounds of skin slapping and moaning is the only thing you can hear, sweaty bodies moving in unison, a play of mutual pleasure, need and adoration. Bucky’s chubby belly feels so good against you, especially paired with the delicious feeling of him hitting your spongy g-spot over and over again.

His hands are all over your body, grabbing handfuls of your breasts, playing with your nipples, holding your thighs and squeezing your waist. His moans and whimpers sound so delicate and sexy, almost serene and calming, but so arousing. The squelching of where your core envelopes him makes you arch into him, his chub so soft against you, yet his obvious strength makes you clench.

His length fills you so good, his hard, quick thrusts turning you on enormously. His fattened up cock makes you mewl, all the sensations adding up into one big coil of pleasure.

Bucky’s sounds grow louder, his hard thrusts faster, more irregular. His cock begins to pulse in you when he drops a hand to your sensitive nub, drawing quick, strong circles on it. Your body is on fire, spasming under the stable boy, your hips meeting his thrusts. You feel so close to the edge and when Bucky grunts, “You’re so good for me, you’re gonna make me cum” you fall over.

Your body shakes, yet you feel like you’re floating. A warm, fuzzy sensation enveloping you, like a soft blanket hugging you close. You feel Bucky’s naked skin against you, his fingers on your skin and his breathing against your neck, but you can’t open your eyes. He grunts loudly and pulls out, but you’re so blissed you don’t find the energy to do anything but whimper.

“Thank you”, he mumbles, his soft lips resting near your collarbone, some spare hairs tickling you nicely.

Slowly, you become more conscious and manage to blink, opening your eyes. Bucky is cuddled against your side, laying on the hay. His arm is wrapped over your waist. You spot his white cum on your tummy; It looks slightly dried and feels a little itchy.

You turn to look at him, a soft smile forming at his beautiful face. His long hair frames him so well, a delicate sight that makes your fingers itch to draw. Instead, you cuddle closer to him and close your eyes. You know you’ll have to get up soon, nobody can find out about this, but for now you want to enjoy this moment of peace and serenity for a little while longer.

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ageofevermore · 3 years

Text

The Autocomplete Interview

Summary → your favorite thing about interviews is how cuddly tom gets afterwards, almost like he’s a life size teddy bear.

Warning(s) → literally nothing but fluff and tom getting teased by the reader and zendaya

Word Count → 1.5k

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Tom has his arms wrapped around your waist, rocking your bodies while the makeup team touches up your eyes and hair. He’s in a conversation with Harry and Zendaya, occasionally humming as if he thinks you’ve said something, before he goes back to them. It’s heartwarming.

Buzzfeed is your last interview of the afternoon, and then you’re free until nightfall when you’re expected at the Hilton across town for another round of press. It’s days like these that remind you of elementary school field trips, only instead of an ugly yellow school bus that was kept together by duct tape, you’re riding coach.

When both you and Zendaya are cleared for camera, you bring Tom towards the chairs, shoving him back, and forcing him down on the one furthest left. A few laughs go around, watching your boyfriend get shoved around in his expensive slacks and neon yellow turtleneck. You’d teased him earlier about the denim jacket he wore, asking if he took it straight from your closet back home. He grinned as if you we’re the funniest thing he’d come across, placing wet kisses into your skin until you begged him to stop, laughing nonsensically and promising he looked ‘hella hot’.

After a sound check, and a screen test to make sure none of you we’re washed out, cameras counted down from three. You squeezed Tom’s hand twice before you dropped it, eyes directly down the barrel of the camera.

“Hey, it’s Zendaya here.”

“Y/N”

“Tom Holland.”

Your boyfriend sounds entirely british as he pushes his fingertips together in his lap. He's tired, the long day wearing him thin. You can’t wait to strip your skin of makeup, let your dress fall in a pool around your ankles, and take a much deserved nap in his arms. As much as you love press, and being with your friends, you need your boyfriend's skin against yours. You need to decompress before you start all over again at sundown.

“And we’re uh, about to do our,” Zendaya looks to you, grin on her face. She’s tired, you all are, but unlike you she’s miles away from anyone to cuddle with. Maybe you’ll ditch Tom, fall asleep with Zendaya instead.

“Wired,”

“Autocomplete,”

“Interview.”

Zendaya’s handed the cardstock first, questions for Tom beneath strips of paper. You shudder, the same as Tom, when she scratches her fingers along the board and peels the paper away. You’re hardly as dramatic as your boyfriend, who coils into himself and raises his hands to his ears. You laugh, but your spine is still cold from the hideous noise. Your hand reaches out, and you tenderly pat him on the thigh.

A joke about your wedding comes into mind, but you pocket it for later, not willing to risk your intimacy making it into the final cut of the interview. You may be open about your relationship, and the fact that yes, you are banging Tom, but you’re still reserved with most things in your life-- including the engagement ring that’s tucked away back at your London apartment. Maybe one day, after the wedding, you’ll be open to sharing the ring, but for now, it’s your perfect little secret.

“Alright, first question. Does Tom Holland do his own stunts?”

“I do actually, I do my own stunts, but there are some stunts that I can’t do,” Tom’s eyes shift to you when you mumble beneath your breath, entirely displeased with the many times he’s come home hurt after he insisted that he could do his own stunts. He had too much faith and pride in his limited gymnastics background, “and then I have my stunt double Greg and Luke, who are incredibly talented, and have made some of the action sequences in this film, I would say, some of the most incredible sequences ever. Um, yeah, so I do do my own stunts, but I can’t take full credit.”

You smile softly, proud of all the work your boyfriend puts into not only his projects, but keeping himself in shape so the filming process isn’t so grueling. He’s missed out on a lot of sleep, but he takes his wins with his losses. He’s somebody you look up to.

“Does Tom Holland play video games?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. You look towards your partner expectantly, lips coiled into an unimpressed pout. He’s the worst. No matter the hour, if he has a console with him, he’s chatting to Harrison until you either unplug the system, or crawl into his lap and beg with him to come to bed-- usually it’s the latter, but Harrison’s heard quite a few squabbles take place in your flat.

“You know, every now and then.” He shrugs, and your jaw drops. You raise your eyebrows, eyes locked with his. His cheeks flush, but nothing needs to be said. Your expression give away that his habit of video games is definitely more than a ‘once and a while’ occurrence.

Zendaya laughs, shaking her head at the pair of you before she pulls another sticker off of the board, looking down at the next question, “Does Tom Holland have a spidey sense?”

“If he did, he wouldn’t have answered the last question lying through his teeth.” You say before Tom has a chance to respond. Your boyfriend, ever the bashful boy, ducks his head down into his hands as he laughs, shoulders shaking.

You bear a smile at Zendaya, subtly winking. You’ve seen the compilation videos of YouTube and Instagram. You know that the fans have caught onto your relationship with the former disney star. You’d be lying if you said friendship wasn’t built on the foundations of picking on Tom, but your boyfriend could handle the heat. If he couldn’t, he wouldn’t be in the kitchen.

Somehow, you make it through the first round of questions for each of you. Zendaya’s cracked jokes, but your social timer is running low. Tom can tell. You’ve stopped laughing at the little things, only offering small smiles and giggles. His hand wants to hold yours, rub circles into your skin as a promise that it’ll be over soon, but he can’t. He won’t let the world in on such a private moment. You already share so much of yourselves.

“How did Y/N become famous?” Zendaya read off a question, eyes lightning up as she nudged you with her elbow.

“Uh, Disney Channel.” You responded, a cheeky twitch in your lips as you tilted your head towards Zendaya. You hadn’t actually had a history with the company, but for whatever reason a rumor had spread that you and Zendaya went up for the same role back in 2009. You hadn’t, but you poked fun at the obscure lie as often as you could.

“Who is Y/N dating?”

“Tom Holland. Somebody’s gotta do his wash, and I don’t think Harry wants the job again.” You taunt, your boyfriend scoffing as he crosses his arms over his chest and sends you a sweet pout. You grin, tapping your thigh with your finger twice, a silent saying of I Love You.

“What is Y/N’s favorite color?”

You laugh, reminded of a question Zendaya got earlier about what she’s been up to. Sometimes, people's intense interest in your lives was confusing. You didn’t think yourself to be entertaining, but the millions of follows and fans who dedicated hours to edits and draws said otherwise. “Purple.”

“Who is Y/N’s favorite Holland?”

The three of you burst out laughing, your forearms resting on your thighs as you came back to yourself. The questions towards you were random, but the ones directed towards you provoked the most laughs. “I-- Besides Tom? I think it’s quite obvious who my favorite is, if we’re including him. Sam. Sam’s my favorite.”

You smile when the cameras cut, concluding your interviews for the afternoon. Tom pulls you back into his arms, whispering in your ear about how he can't wait to cuddle, curl up in your bed and sleep for a few uninterrupted hours before you’re sent back through the grueling process. You wouldn’t change your job for the world. Especially not when the constant conversation tires Tom out, and makes your already sweet boyfriend a life size teddy bear.

When you finally make it back to your hotel room, your eyes are barely open. You took your makeup off in the bus, and before Tom had even closed the hotel door you were kicking your high heels off and pleading with him to unzip your dress. He laughed, pulling his jacket off before he stepped up behind you. Letting it fall to the floor in a pool around your ankles, his arms wrap around you and tug you back into his chest.

“I love you, you goof.” You mumble against his lips, turning your head to the side so you can kiss him just as sweetly as he holds you. His sweater is soft beneath your bear skin, but you shiver anyways with the new lack of clothing.

“I love you more, Princess.”

☆ taglist (urls with a strike through won’t let my tag) →

@deionswannabegirl @killingbxys @mauvesdior @mischiefandi @dmonchld @waddlenut @tanakaslastbraincell @hollandsxheart @quacksonhehe @tothemoonandbackx3000 @stiles-o-dylan24 @tikapollak @tomthetease @spookybooisa @geminiparkers @teen--marvel @rogersparkerbarnes @sarcasticallywitty15 @anapocalypseinmymind

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #zendaya #zendaya x reader

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supercorpkid · 3 years

Text

Recovery is hard, but not far.

Part 5 of T is for Trauma - The Series

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2580.

Warnings: Injuries. Just a small amount of angst now.

Previously on the series – part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4.

It’s been a couple of days since you’ve left the DEO. Kara flew you home, and soon enough all the yellow sun lights were placed around your bed, and you’ve been lying under them ever since. Things are still hard. You still feel very weak and heavy-hearted. You don’t know how to explain the feeling, but you feel that something broke inside you.

Your moms never leave your side. They look as beaten up as you do. Lena looks tired, like she hasn’t slept in weeks. There are bags under her eyes, her hair is a mess, and she’s wearing nothing but jeans and sweaters. It’s distressing. Kara looks wretched. You’ve never seen your momma looking so miserable all your life. And she hasn’t left her sweatpants in days. You don’t think they have worked in weeks, and sometimes you want to ask them about it, but you’re scared that will send them away, and you can’t see yourself being alone right now.

Jamie visits every afternoon. And the only time you feel slightly like a normal person again is when she’s telling you about school, and the people from it. Alex also comes by a lot, but it’s all very medical. She examines you, makes you talk, walk, and checks if you’re recovering. Kelly came by a few times and tried to access how you were feeling, but you couldn’t tell her, because you don’t even know exactly how it is. To the surprise of no one, she pointed out that you need therapy, and you agreed to do it once you’re feeling strong enough.

You don’t talk much. Not because your voice is still not coming out, but because you don’t have much to say. Your powers are still not back, which feels weird. Even though you can’t control them very well, you’re used to having them. So, you’re feeling very empty inside.

“Hey, you’re awake. Did you sleep well?” You hear Kara’s voice as soon as you open your eyes. You agree with your head, so she knows you can hear her. “Do you need to go to the bathroom? Or do you want to eat first?”

“Bathroom.”

Kara picks you up and takes you to the bathroom. You appreciate the help; your leg still hurts a lot when you try to walk. Probably because you don’t have your powers. But it feels weird being carried everywhere, and helped with everything.

“Are you done?” Kara asks from the other side of the door.

“Mhm.” This is almost humiliating, isn’t it? She goes back inside and picks you up again. “Bed, please.”

“But your mom made a huge breakfast for us, all of your favorites are the-”

“Not hungry, momma. But thank you.” You try to smile at her, but it’s not a real smile. You haven’t been able to do that in a while. Kara puts you back in the bed and lays down next to you. “You can go if you want to.”

“Do you want to be alone?” She asks, and you know she’s only worried you might be feeling suffocated with them around you all the time, but your heart starts beating fast with the thought of being alone, and she hears it. “It’s ok, it’s ok. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. Hey, hey, baby.” Kara puts her hand on your chest to feel your heart, even though she can hear it. “You’re ok. Mommy is here.”

“I’m sorry.” You try to hold your tears and even your breath.

“Baby, you don’t have to apologize. It’s ok.” She kisses your temple, and wipes the tear that is falling to the side of your face.

“Can you hold me, please?” You’re not even finished with your request and Kara already has her arms wrapped around you, and she pulls you so close you can hear her heartbeat. You like that.

You don’t know how long you two stay like that for. Probably hours. You only let go of Kara when you hear her stomach growling loudly. Jamie walks in right at that moment, and Kara can finally leave you and go eat.

“Hey little Danvers.” Jamie throws herself in your bed and looks at you with a smile. “That looked nice. Does it mean you talked to them?”

“About what?” You ask, confused.

“Well, you know, about the science fair thing.” Jamie props herself up in her elbows to look at you. She knows you haven’t by the look on your face. “Seriously? They’re in here all the time and you haven’t had the single most important conversation possible?”

“That all seems really stupid after you almost die.” You mumble under your breath, but she can hear you either way.

“Yeah, ok. I get it.” She shows her hands trying to admit defeat. “But it’s how you feel. And once you recover, things like that can happen again if you don’t let them know how it affects you.”

“Aunt Kelly said I need therapy… Does she know you say things like that to me?” You try to say it as a joke, but Jamie knows you better than you know yourself, so she’s aware you’re just trying to deflect your feelings.

“Listen, I’ve known you my whole life. You’re funny, smart and powerful.” She sits back on the bed and holds your hand. “There’s no one like you. Really. Aunt Kara is powerful, but she’s not smart like you. Aunt Lena is smart, but she doesn’t have powers. You have both. And to top it all up, you’re a genuinely good person.”

“What do you want? Money?” You raise an eyebrow at her and she breaths deep.

“See, this is what I’m talking about. You can’t even take compliments!” Jamie rolls her eyes. “You literally saved National City from destruction while our parents were frozen in time, and when everyone started applauding, you ran away from it! Why is it so hard for you to accept appreciation?”

“It’s not!” You defend yourself, but you can see her face of disbelief. “Well, you said it yourself, I had to. It was up to me. I had to save everyone.”

“No, you hadn’t! I was just trying to make you overcome your fears. If you didn’t exist, I’m sure Superman or like, the entire Justice League, would've shown up and done something about that.” You furrow your brows thinking about it. “But they didn’t have to, because Superkid was there to save the day. And Superkid was there to save her mom from being killed, and you, dipshit, created a mind reader, just because I went like ‘ok make me a mind reader’. I mean, who does that?”

You don’t answer, you just keep looking at her, waiting for her to get to the point. Which you kind of already know what it is.

“I think, and I’m not a therapist so I might be wrong, but-” Jamie holds your hand again and smiles at you tenderly. “You keep underselling yourself, because you’re afraid your moms are not going to be impressed by anything that you do.”

“I-I am-WHAT?”

“You put them on this pedestal and you look at them like they’re some goddesses who are never wrong, and you feel you can never be wrong so you can be a part of this family. But I have to tell you, little Danvers, they’re not perfect. And you… You have to stop trying to be.”

“Um…” You don’t even have words to what she just told you. Is she right? Did Jamie just read you perfectly?

“Well, anyways, I brought your homework.”

She drops the subject just like that, and takes both of you guys homework from her backpack, so you could do that instead.

“You know what’s not fair? You haven’t been to class in almost a month, and your grades are still better than mine.” She fakes complain and you roll your eyes at her. “Mom said you can go back to school when you want to. You can use a leg cast or something.”

“I don’t have to go to school, I already have better grades than you.” You joke and she sticks her tongue out at you.

Jamie spends the afternoon with you, and when she leaves Lena takes her place next to you, so you’re never alone.

“Did you manage to get any work done today?” You ask when she sits next to you. She pulls you to lay your head on her lap.

“Eh, who cares about that?” Lena says, while stroking your hair. “What I care about is that you didn’t eat enough today. You didn’t have breakfast, you barely touched your sandwich at lunch, and I saw that Jamie had to force you to eat your snack. So, what do you want me to make for you to eat, baby?”

“I’m ok.” You say and you hear a loud sigh in response. “Really, mom, you don’t have to worry.”

“Oh baby, all a mom does is worry.” She smiles and strokes your cheek. “Especially when her little monster stops eating.”

You smile at her, and close your eyes, getting comfortable enough to sleep. But you can’t, because Jamie’s words are in the back of your mind, and god dammit, she was right!

“Is, um, momma on a Supergirl call?” You ask, and your answer is Kara poking her head on your room.

“Nope. Why? Do you miss me already?” Kara says with a playful smile and she sits on your bed too. “Or do you want to talk to us about that thing Jamie was talking to you earlier?”

“Eavesdropping much?” You joke and Kara smiles at you. “It’s nothing. It’s old news.”

“Well, I would still like to talk about it.” Lena says and she helps you sit on your bed so you can look at them. “You were right baby. The reason why what you said hurt us so badly, it’s because you were right. We made a promise, and we should’ve kept it. I don’t want you to think that my job is more important than you. It is not. Nothing is.”

“Yeah.” Kara scootches over and wipes your tears. “CatCo, Supergirl, all of it, it’s just a job. This family is way more important than any of that. You know that, right?”

“I know it. I just don’t feel it sometimes.” You shrug, and you feel Lena kissing your temple, and Kara kissing your forehead at the same time.

“It’s our fault. And we’re going to work very hard to get better at that, ok?” Lena says and you agree with your head.

“But baby, you have to tell us how you feel. You can’t keep saying it doesn’t matter to you, when it’s hurting you so badly. We need to know, so we can do better.” Kara holds your hand and you breathe deep. Guess it’s time to say how you feel.

“It’s just… Everyone in school hates me. When I’m up there, after winning something, there’s no one in the crowd, besides Jamie, looking happy or proud of me.” You’re crying a little, but your moms are crying hard. “I guess I just wanted to see someone looking happy for me.”

There’re a few minutes of loud sobs, desperate noises and your moms repeating ‘we’re so sorry’ over and over again, until any of you can make up a complete sentence again.

“Baby, we’re sorry we never saw things like that. You just kept saying it wasn’t a big deal, and I guess we convinced ourselves of it because it was easier.” Lena is the first one to recover, wiping her tears on Kara’s shirt.

“We don’t want you to feel that you winning something, it's not important, no matter how small you think it is.” Kara squeezes your knee, reassuringly. “Everything you do is important to us. All your inventions make me so proud. I keep wishing that I was smart like you, just to create something out of thin air.”

“And your powers? And you saving me over and over again? You’re just a kid and you saved my life so many times it’s unbelievable.” Lena completes and you give her a little smile.

“We are so proud of you and everything that you accomplish, little one.” Kara cups your face and looks in your eyes. “So proud.”

“It’s nothing compared to what you two do.” You shrug, dismissive.

“Baby, you’re sixteen! You can’t compare a sixteen-year-old life to a forty-six.”

“Or seventy.” You say as a joke and Kara laughs tickling your waist.

“Prankster.” She smiles and, for the first time in a while, you smile too. A real one. “Besides, at sixteen I was in school getting passable grades and not saving a single soul. I didn’t even use my powers at your age! So, you’re better already.”

“I was in college, but I have to tell you, I was inventing way less important things than you’re right now.” Lena adds. “You don’t have to undersell your achievements. Because no matter what it is, we’re always very proud of you.”

It’s the first time you thought about it that way. You always thought that you saving two or three people, defeating one or two bad guys was literally nothing. And compared to your momma’s numbers it is nothing. But she has so many years in this superhero life, and you literally just started. People are just now knowing your name. It was not long ago when you got your first super suit. So, it’s not fair to yourself comparing your achievements to Kara’s.

And the same goes to Lena’s inventions. She obviously made the world a better place with all the things she created, and all the projects she supported with L Corp’s money. You haven’t even had the courage to put any of your inventions to mass production yet, so you can’t compare to them or you will never be satisfied with yourself.

Besides, they might be living pretty impressive lives, but you know they’re not perfect. There were some people Kara weren’t able to save, and there were breakthroughs Lena never had. They are amazing parents, but they’re not perfect, and it doesn’t matter, because you love them either way. And they will love you if you’re not perfect too.

“What’s going on in that big brain of yours?” Kara asks when you don’t talk for a while.

“That I have the best moms in the world.” You smile and they hug you at the same time. “No one can’t be perfect all the time. Not even the big Kara Zor-El or the great Lena Kieran Luthor.” You say, making her chuckle. “But you two come pretty damn close to it.”

“Yeah. No one is perfect, and we shouldn’t try to be.” Kara squeezes your face between her hands. “Being yourself is more than enough.”

“Oh, yes. You are more than we could ever have dreamed of, babygirl.” Lena adds and your heart almost jumps in your chest out of happiness.

“I’m glad you two are feeling like this, because I need a ride to the bathroom.” You look at Kara raising both of your eyebrows at the same time, and she picks you up immediately. “And mom? I think I can eat now.”

“I’ll order everything!” Lena gets up from the bed right away and you smile at them.

Yeah, they’re not perfect, but who needs perfection when they’re this awesome?

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #kara x lena #supercorp fanfic #supercorpfamily #kara x reader #lena x reader #supercorp daughter #reader insert

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