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lincolndjarin · 10 months

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Best Kept Secret ☆

A MANDALORIAN SERIES MASTERLIST

[ COMPLETED ]

✩ a bodyguard!din x princess!reader fic ✩

series summary :

Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.

18+ mdni

do you like kitschy, campy romance novels? if you're reading this, I hope so.

behind the scenes & chapter notes + other extras (spoilers) :

chapters 1-5

chapter 6-15

spotify playlists

Lysa & Elaine information

the bks screen adaption

bks q&a

bks what if's

reader is generally not described past being picked up a few times, and having hair long enough to be put up

✩ chapters containing smut!

chapter one : honeymoon (6.7k words)

[ Absurd.

That is the only word that comes to mind as you stare at yourself in the mirror. “His favorite color is blue.” ]

chapter two : silent treatment (7.4k words)

[ Something is wrong. You bolt up from the pile of blankets that you call a bed and your eyes dart around the closet as you furrow your brow trying to discern why you feel so much different. ]

✩ chapter three : the smitten paladin (4.6k words)

[ You’re starting to think the planet isn’t the reason you’re so hot all the time.

You had woken up this morning feeling a bit better than you thought you’d be, your stomach is full of butterflies but you're still standing and considering the night you had you’re gonna take that as a win. ]

chapter four : sarad'ika (6.8k words)

[ Sarad'ika.

You won’t forget it this time, you can’t. So you write it in your book, just under Mando’s favorite color you write the two little words that have been keeping you up at night. ]

✩ chapter five : lunar interlude : just a man (5.0k words)

[ Absurd.

It’s absurd how much the job pays. Din’s not even sure he should take it at this point because it’s too good to be true. ]

✩ chapter six : torment (5.1k words)

[ Okay, maybe you didn’t think this through.

You didn’t think he’d actually come in and now suddenly the door is shut and you’re alone with him. ]

✩ chapter seven : just friends (3.1k words)

[ Maker it feels like it’s been an hour and you’re both just laying here. He was just inside of you; it shouldn't be so hard to find something to talk about at this point. ]

chapter eight : solar markets (5.3k words)

[ It’s nice to wake up excited again.

You wish you could say that it happened more often but hopefully it will from now on. It’s going to be your first time leaving the castle grounds since you got here. ]

✩ chapter nine : shuk'la rules (5.6k words)

[ You need sex.

Normally you would be satisfied for quite some time after getting off but for some reason with Mando it was different. But it’s only been two days and you need more. ]

✩ chapter ten : lunar interlude : briikase gote'tuur (4.1k words)

[ He’s grateful for the break from you, even if brief.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t enjoy every moment he gets to be in your presence but the more time he spends with you the harder it gets to remember that this isn’t real. ]

chapter eleven : he loves me not (4.6k words)

[ Something is wrong.

All day it’s been wrong.

He’s different. Distant. ]

chapter twelve : pretend (4.4k words )

[ Two days.

That’s what you’re willing to give yourself. Two days to get over it. One to get it all out of your system and one to pull yourself together. ]

chapter thirteen : lunar interlude : vercopa (3.5k words)

[ He did it.

He did exactly what he knew he needed to do.

So why does he feel worse than ever? ]

chapter fourteen : condemned (4.9k words)

[ You’re having trouble sleeping.

You have no problem falling asleep, it’s mostly staying asleep. There’s a million different things that consume your thoughts and everytime you drift into unconsciousness you find yourself jolting awake, barely able to stay asleep for more than an hour at a time. ]

chapter fifteen : two tea parties (5.4k words)

[ “What did you do to her?”

Her voice breaks through his sleepy haze as he sits up properly.

“Excuse me?” ]

chapter sixteen : absolution (4.6k words)

[ There’s a visceral sense of dread when you wake up, for several reasons.

The glaring obvious culprit of your discomfort would be the fact that today’s your husband's birthday. ]

chapter seventeen : the apostate’s cabin (3.5k words)

[ Just Din.

It’s sinking in as you walk in silence, holding his hand tightly as he pulls you towards his home. ]

chapter eighteen : portrait of a man (5.4k words)

[ It’s deliciously warm when you wake. You can feel his heartbeat and you can feel the soft traces of sunlight dancing along your back. You stretch in his arms slightly but freeze up as you feel him nuzzle his chin into your hair, planting a kiss against your hairline. ]

✩ chapter nineteen : reverence (7.3k words)

[ You really want to.

You couldn’t possibly want to more than you currently do.

It’s actually a bit mean. That he’s left you here in this state. ]

✩ chapter twenty : like real people do (8.4k words)

[ Mando and Din.

All you can think about right now is how there must be two of them.

You’re playing with his curls. ]

✩ chapter twenty one : te mirci't (9.0k words)

[ “It means I love you.”

You aren’t entirely sure how long you stare at him, looking rather silly with your jaw practically on the floor. ]

✩ chapter twenty two : it’s you that i lie with (11.3k words)

[ Naboo has several trading ports.

You could get him on a cargo ship. That would be the most inconspicuous form of transport. It would help if he was willing to ditch his armor. ]

✩ chapter twenty three : lunar markets (15.0k words)

[ Sneaking out of the castle gets easier every time you do it.

It only takes a few minutes and you’re walking outside towards the forest trail, Din’s hand in yours, still giddy. ]

✩ chapter twenty four : lunar interlude : riduur (7.8k words)

[ He doesn’t deserve this.

How could he possibly be deserving of you? Yet somehow you make him feel as if he is. With your soft touch and the way your eyes get just a little bigger when you see him. ]

✩ chapter twenty five : wedding bells (11.7k words)

[ Four days of Leo.

You were upset that Din was leaving you but you got over it rather quickly with the promise of his hasty return. ]

chapter twenty six : crucifixion (12.7k words)

[ “My room is too big.”

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” ]

chapter twenty seven : the apostate (6.0k words)

[ Silence.

That’s all there is in his brain.

It’s hard enough as is for him to hear. It doesn’t help when he’s been beaten half to death. ]

✩ chapter twenty eight : a place for us (8.4k words)

[ You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him.

Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on. ]

chapter twenty nine : the best kept secret (epilogue) (6.1k words)

[ The morning sun is warm against your face, you bask in it, unmoving and only half awake until you feel a tiny hand slapping your cheek. The illusion of tranquility is immediately shattered as you softly laugh. ]

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wonlvkay · 1 month

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― Enhypen reaction to you not being able to fall asleep

Warnings : fluff, insomnia, stress, depression, nightmares, trauma, family issues.

Comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated

Heeseung ★

he would be fast asleep before he heard a soft sob and would immediately get up. "what's wrong love?" he would ask with concern reaching out for you as you seek comfort in his arms. he knew you had nightmares due to you having a toxic family and traumatic experiences. he would sing to you rubbing your back softly. he would go to sleep only after making sure that your ok and soundly sleeping.

Jay ★

he felt you rolling around for a couple of minutes and called you up for a talk. "baby, come here". apparently you were so nervous about your finals coming up. you even insisted staying up the whole night to study more and was about to get out of bed when his arms wrap around your torso and bring you into his embrace and gave you talks building your courage.

Jake ★

you dealt with mild insomnia but you were improving your health in a constant pace but sometimes you just can't sleep. you felt guilty to wake jake up so you slipped out of the covers and went to the living room and was patting layla. he felt a warm empty spot when he reached out to you and woke up. he frantically searched for you and was relieved to find you curled up on the coach with layla. boy, he was jealous but still assured you that you can always talk to him when your facing difficulties. "stop cuddling with layla. your my princess, not her's" he whined.

Sunghoon ★

you had drunk a lot of caffeine since the morning despite his warnings and now you can't sleep. "but sunghoon, i craved for coffee" you whined with a pout. so you two just chose a film and settled down on the coach to enjoy it. unfortunately, the film was ignored and you both fell asleep in five minutes, tangled up in each others arms.

Sunoo ★

you visited your family today and came home feeling down and depressed. he didn't press on you to open up but he knew how toxic your family was and the bad affect they had on you. later that night you laid awake staring at the ceiling, trying to hold your tears. he would wrap his arms around you, letting you nuzzle into him as he comforted you. "you're so brave for facing all of that love. let out the tears". he would stroke your hair softly, planting kisses on the crown of your head.

Jungwon ★

you had returned from a trip to another continent and was jetlagged. your whole body clock was messed up and you laid awake tossing and turning. jungwon lit up some candles for you and you both talked about your day. luckily, the talk took your energy away. "maeumi did a trick you know-" he stopped talking as he realized you dozed off. he tucked you up and went to sleep but not before gushing over how cute you looked when you sleep.

Niki ★

you both were used to sleeping very late at night so you suggested you guys try to have a healthy sleep schedule and he agreed. things did not go easily as you two planned so now you two laid not feeling even a bit sleepy. niki had a solution for this. pillow fight! you both mucked around giggling like crazy. this activity drained out your energy and you both fell asleep in a mess of feathers. cleaning like on top of your list in the morning.

#kayla writes!!!#enhypen #heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #sunghoon #kim sunoo #jungwon #niki #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfic #enhypen reactions

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sinofwriting · 3 months

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Please, Oh Please - Max Verstappen (Part Two)

Words: 1,049 Summary: A direct continuation of Please, Oh Please that shows a few domestic moments between Max and her. Note(s): Just want to thank LB on ko-fi for this. They commissioned me to write this and I had such a fun time doing so.

Read Part One Here | Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

“You came over.” He watches as she yawns, eyes just barely opening for the first time this morning. “I came over.” The words are a mumble, not helped by the way she closes her eyes again and snuggles up to him. “You never come over.” She makes a humming noise and he nearly jolts at the way it tickles him. “Missed you. Apartment smells kind of like you. Missed you.” He holds her closer, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I missed you too.” “Yeah?” “Always, Schat. Always.”

The room goes quiet between them with only the sound of their breathing filling it, and Max can’t help but want this forever. It’s not a new want, hasn’t been for weeks, months, but it hits him again, all at once.

“I want you to move in.” His voice is quiet, just barely breaking the silence in the room. Her breathing stills. “What?” “I want you to stay here, to live here.” He turns his head a little to look at her, to look at those eyes that he loves. “I love you.” Her eyes widened. “I love you.” He repeats. “And I want to take care of you, to come home to you, to come back home with you.” “Max,” Her voice breaks. “Please?” He sits up a bit, making it easier for them to look at each other. “You have no idea what it meant to me last night. To come home and see that you have been here, to see you in bed, sleeping, waiting for me.” “Max.” She says again, stopping him as she sits up and her hands are framing his face. “I know how much it means.” Her dominant hand’s thumb strokes over his cheekbone. “I love you. I want to live here with you. To be here when you come home.” Her smile gentle and proud, turns a little bashful. “I want you to take care of me.”

—

Max fears the day that he grows used to this. Grows used to waking up with her in his arms, in his bed, or rather in bed with him considering the amount of traveling they do. It’s been five months since he came home to her, since he asked her to move in, to stay with him, five months since she said yes and he’s still getting used to it. Getting used to having her how he wants, how he had dreamed.

“What are you thinking about?” Her voice thick from sleep breaks him out of his thoughts. “You.” She immediately presses her head into his chest, making him laugh. “Shut up.” She mumbles. “Okay.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Wait.” He nearly laughs at the predictability of it. It's always went like this, he’d fluster her, she’d tell him to be quiet or to shut up, he’d say okay, and immediately she’d say wait, or don’t.

“I have the tournament tomorrow. I won’t be able to go shopping with you tomorrow.” She huffs out a laugh, lifting her head up. “I can go by myself, it’s only one or two bags.” “They’ll be heavy.” “It’s groceries, lovey. I can carry two bags of groceries.” He pouts, “Why don’t we go today?” “Because you promised me a whole day, just you and me, in the apartment, lazing about.” Max sighs, because he had promised that, even if it was normally how they spent their days together, they did have a trip with her friends planned in a few days and immediately after they’d be going to see his sister. Which meant for a solid week they wouldn’t really have time for just the two of them. “Will you at least take a car?” Her nose wrinkles but she nods. “I’ll take a car.”

—

“You have to stop leaving me your card.” “Card? What card?” He asks, waving at GP to go ahead of him. “Max.” She draws out his name a bit. “You know what card. It’s the card you think you're being sneaky about when you leave me with it.” He leans against the wall. “Oh, that card.” “Mhmm. That card.” “What about it?” “What about,” she stops, spluttering. “Max, I don’t need your black card.” “What if something happens?” “I’m getting on a flight to you in less than ten hours. You left just last night.” He shrugs, smiling as he adjusts the phone against his ear. “What if you want something?” “I’ll use the card that you gave to me, that’s in my name. Not your black card. Which you really shouldn’t be giving to people.” “I don’t give it to people, I give it to you.” His voice softens a bit on the last word. She sighs, “That’s very sweet, lovey.” “Mhmm.” “Still not using it.”

—

She grins up at him, whole face alight with excitement. “Hi race winner.” She greets, arms tightening a bit around him as mechanics and such move around the garage. “Hi liefje.” His arms wrap around her in turn, tucking her into him. “I’m so proud of you.” She murmurs against his chest covered by sweat soaked nomex. “So proud.” He rocks them a bit as he presses his lips to her hair. “Yeah?” “Of course.”

She pulls away a bit, mouth opening, and he knows that it’s to tell him to go shower quickly, before he really starts to smell, champagne and sweat unsurprisingly not making a good scent, but before she can, he presses their lips together. Interrupting their normal routine.

Her body tenses against his for a second, before it relaxes. The feeling makes him sigh, and one of his hands moves to cradle her face as the other grabs at her waist a little tighter, keeping her pressed against him.

“I love you so much.” He breathes when they pull apart. “I love you too.” Her soft, gentle smile turns a little playful as soon as she finishes the sentence. “Now go and take a shower, I have a private celebration for you.” His eyebrows raise, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Something I’ll like?” “Something you’ll love.” The promise makes it a bit hard to swallow and he’s quick to press another kiss to her lips. “Thirty minutes and we’ll be gone, yeah?” “Sounds perfect.”

@cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

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fettuccin-e · 3 months

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Flying to New Heights

Summary: A flight delay means you're spending your night at the hotel bar, praying for sleep to come to you. Instead, a certain Captain Francisco Morales shows up, tall and broad and far too tempting. With undeniable attraction burning between you, you can't help the way you fall right into his arms.

A/N: Alright! I know it's been a while, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Life has gotten a tad crazy, but the Frankie thirst never stops okay? And this AU has been buzzing in my head for a little while now, so I just needed to get it out there. I hope y'all enjoy the porn. (dividers are by the lovely @saradika-graphics!)

Tags: Frankie Morales x Reader, Commercial Pilot!Frankie, Flight attendant!reader, afab!fem!reader, alcohol consumption but barely, this is essentially an excuse for porn so, oral and fingering(r!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up I'm begging you), Francisco Morales and his dirty mouth have struck again (w/c: 4.2K)

You love your job, you really do. Deciding to actually train to be a flight attendant was one of the best decisions of your life. Gone were the days of short-lived stints in retail, and you’ve never been happier for it.

You’ve lived the attendant life for a few years now, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve met some of your best friends through this job, seen some of the most beautiful places in the world, met celebrities on their way to new production locations and concert venues.

It’s the dream, you tell your family, during the rare moments you actually get to visit them. And it is. The perks far outweigh the cons in your profession, and you’re happy to be where you are.

That’s not to say there aren’t any cons though.

There are always rude flyers, unruly children, issues with luggage. The turbulence is never much fun, nor are the months spent without being able to go home at all.

There are always nights like tonight, where the rain made the flight arrive later than expected, and you’ve got another flight scheduled for the morning. Between jetlag and the copious amounts of airline coffee you’ve imbibed to remain bright and chipper over an eight hour flight overseas, there’s no way you’ll get more than five hours of sleep before you have to clock in again.

A nightcap in the hotel bar seemed just the thing to cool off. You haven’t even taken your uniform off, the thick fabric stretching across your skin, your legs exposed to the cool air as you sip on your drink. The alcohol burns a bit in the back of your throat, but you take comfort in it, trying to lean into the calming warmth it creates in your stomach.

“Can’t sleep?”

The unexpected voice rips you from your reverie, and fuck, what a wake up call. The voice is deep, a pretty rasp edging into the ends of his words, the warmth of his tone making you far warmer than the alcohol in your glass ever could.

Captain Francisco Morales. Even his name has heat swimming in your stomach, and you wish you had just gone to bed like a normal person instead of drinking at the hotel bar at midnight.

You can’t decide if the pilot is a perk or a con of the job, only knowing that he seems to pilot most of your flights, and is a fucking distraction during every single one of them. With his big broad shoulders and patchy beard, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles and his insistence that you call him Frankie, not Captain Morales.

The whole “flight attendants fucking pilots” trope never really applied to you until you met Frankie. You’ve made it a point not to hit on him, no matter how much you desperately want to. It would be far too stereotypical, and with how fucking nice Frankie is, you’d feel like you’d be taking advantage of him. So you’ve kept your distance, talking to him kindly, trying to cross your legs discreetly when he flexes his damn hands on the plane controls, and doing your job like a normal person.

But as he crosses into your line of vision, sitting in the barstool directly next to you, you’re struck with the realization that you’re in unknown territory. There’s no distracting yourself here with other passengers, or your fellow flight attendants. You can’t excuse yourself to an airplane bathroom to splash cold water on your face and yell at yourself to get it together. No, Frankie is right in front of you, ordering a whiskey neat from the bored-looking bartender, and smiling at you so fucking prettily with those big brown eyes and big hands and oh god you’re not going to survive-

“Nah, the jet-lag is really getting to me this time,” you say casually, your voice working on its own accord. At least you aren’t staring at him dopily like some kind of imbecile.

He chuckles. “Same here. Flight go okay?”

“You got us here, didn’t you, Captain? I’d say that’s a success.”

“Then let’s hope I’m always successful,” he winks, and it takes effort to breathe normally. You giggle, and he smiles at you again, his eyes crinkling up.

“You have a flight tomorrow?” he asks, sipping at his drink.

“Yeah, unfortunately," you sigh. "10:00AM, which is making the whole ‘no sleeping thing’ even worse. Y’know, it’s really the airline’s fault if I collapse on a passenger." You grin at him, and he laughs.

“Oh, they should be so lucky,” he chuckles, and you could swear that you see just a flicker of heat in his eyes. A heat that turns into a raging inferno inside of you, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your toes.

“How about you, Captain? Flying again tomorrow?” You need to keep your mind out of the fucking gutter, not that he makes it very easy.

“Yup. They’ve got me in the air at 8:00AM.”

“Oh man, and you’re listening to me complain about my 10:00AM?”

“Work is work, sweetheart,” he smiles at you, and you want to collapse into him at that very moment. Sweetheart. Coming from anyone else, it would sound smarmy, like a pick up line, but from Frankie, it just sounds warm and comforting. You want to be his sweetheart. “We’re all allowed to complain. We aren’t in any kind of competition.”

He sips his whiskey, his eyes feeling like they’re boring into your fucking soul. “And either way, we’re both in the same bar, at midnight, sleep nowhere in sight. We’re pretty much in the same boat.”

“If you say so, Captain,” you say, your body positively burning under his gaze. You hope that you can blame it on the alcohol.

He raises an eyebrow, “I thought I told you to call me Frankie, sweetheart.”

“Frankie, sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” he says, taking another sip. You try to not watch his throat work as he swallows. You fail. “Think you just need more practice,” he mumbles into his drink, so soft you almost miss it.

“Practice?” you blurt, mind too distracted to think of an intelligent response.

“Practice saying my name.”

A laugh startles out of your mouth. “I have no idea how I’d practice that, Frankie.”

He hums, pretending to think. “I have a few ideas,” he murmurs, and fuck, you definitely aren’t imagining the heat in his eyes now. It’s blazing into you, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between them, hoping that Frankie doesn’t notice. Or maybe you hope he does, as you watch those thick fingers wrap around his glass.

Fuck it. He’s hot, you’re horny, and God, you can’t take much more of this. “I’d love to hear all about them, Frankie,” you say, adding a little rasp to your voice that you hope sounds sexy.

Frankie chuckles, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of you. No, he sounds surprised, like he can’t believe you’re flirting back at him. Confidence swims in your chest as red colors his cheeks. You gaze up into those warm, brown eyes of his, and fuck, he’s so pretty up close like this.

“You sure about that, hermosa?”

You don’t break eye contact with him, and his deep gaze burns into yours. “Positive,” you breathe, and Frankie’s smirk is absolutely devastating.

Captain Francisco Morales doesn’t do this often. No, he doesn’t do this ever. Fucking between flights is supposed to be a perk of being a pilot, but it’s a “perk” he rarely utilizes. One night stands have never really suited him; he gets attached far too easily, and with his job, he can never stick around for long.

But god you’re pretty. And you’re licking hotly into his mouth, and whining in the back of your throat like you’re fucking desperate for it.

He couldn’t help himself when he saw you, still in your little uniform skirt, nursing a drink at the hotel bar. He couldn’t help himself when he struck up a conversation with you, wanting to see your pretty smile and soft laugh that he only ever hears mid-flight. And damn it, he sure as hell can’t help himself from pressing you up against the wall of the hotel elevator, pressing one of his thighs between yours while your fingers curl into his hair and his arms wrap around your waist.

You wiggle down onto his thick thigh, and it creates the most perfect pressure on your clit. You whimper against Frankie’s mouth, and he groans with you, pulling you flush against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and his voice is deep and gravelly, breathless from your fevered kisses. “I, uh, I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” His cheeks burn, but he doesn’t back away, just leans his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath.

It isn’t a surprise, his confession. You’ve heard stories about every other pilot, about their conquests with flight attendants, or how someone saw one of them take their wedding band off when they got to their hotel. There are stories upon stories about every pilot you’ve flown with, except Frankie. And it’s intoxicating, knowing that he wants you enough to have you like this.

“Good. Me neither,” you whisper, and Frankie grins again. That boyish, devastating grin, and fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard that you could cum like this. You could cum, right in this elevator, Frankie’s thigh between yours and his tongue in your mouth, fuck-

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival to your floor, and Frankie jumps away from you as the doors slide open. You don’t take it personally, not when you’re instinctually tugging your rumpled skirt down. You glance up, and Frankie is already staring down at you, gaze blazing as he braces a hand against the elevator door, holding it open for you.

“Where’s your room?” he asks, and the question is casual, but his voice certainly isn’t. There’s promise in it, and you have to make sure your knees don’t buckle.

“Why don’t I show you?” you say, stepping toward him to press your bodies together. Frankie doesn’t answer, he only cups a hand under your jaw, dragging your face up for a sticky kiss. It’s so much better than a yes.

He breaks the kiss far too soon, but one of his hands makes its way down to your ass, squeezing the fat of it through your skirt. “Lead the way, princesa,” he grumbles, and how could you ever think to refuse him?

Maybe you’re a little too eager in your walk to your room, but Frankie doesn’t seem to fare much better. No, he’s just as desperate as you are, with the way he presses you against the door of your room the moment you close it. With the way he swiftly kisses down your neck, sucking your skin between his teeth as he unbuttons your blazer, shoving the fabric down your arms. The buttons of your white undershirt follow, and you keen as he sucks maddeningly at your pulse point, his mustache scratching at the sensitive skin of your neck.

As soon as you’re divested of your shirt, Frankie’s moving again, kissing his way down your chest. He drags his teeth against the soft skin of your breasts, and you dig your hands into his hair.

“Fuck, baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits,” he murmurs against your skin. It doesn’t sound like a line, no, it sounds like a prayer.

“Frankie, please,” you breathe.

He looks up at you from his position at your chest. “What, gorgeous?” he asks, coy, as if he doesn’t know what you want. What you desperately need.

“Please, just,” you use your grip in his hair to drag him back up to your mouth, and he goes willingly, groaning softly as his tongue meets yours again. “Please fuck me, Frankie,” you whisper, and Frankie groans like he’s dying.

“Take- take your clothes off, baby,” he mutters, and it sounds more like he’s begging than he’s commanding. “Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You have to make sure you don’t trip on your way to the bed as you kick off your heels. You tug your skirt and nylons down your thighs, making sure to wiggle your ass a bit more than normal as you bend over to tug them the rest of the way down your legs. You smirk at Frankie’s soft groan behind you.

The air of the hotel room is slightly cold, but as soon as you kneel on the bed, arching your back in a shameless display of your desperation, Frankie is burning hot above you, and you can’t feel the cold at all. Frankie’s thick, calloused hands palm your ass, and you moan as he spreads you apart, staring unabashedly at your aching cunt.

“Can I eat your pussy, baby?” he grumbles from behind you, and the fact that he’s asking permission to eat you out is making you so much hotter, making you clench around nothing.

“Yes, yes, Frankie, oh please-” you whine, and Frankie barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s dragging his tongue in a long stripe up your dripping pussy. “Fuck, Frankie,” you groan, and he moans into you, sounding like he’s enjoying eating you out just as much as you are.

His nose drags maddeningly through your folds as he brings his lips down to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it in circles that send pure pleasure sparking endlessly up your spine. You arch your back into it, pressing yourself into his mouth, and Frankie groans again. The vibrations of it against your clit make you jerk wildly, whining high as you clutch desperate fingers into the pristine white sheets of the bed.

Frankie tries to keep you still with one of his big hands pressing into the small of your back. His other hand makes its way to your pussy, and you don’t even realize, not when he’s licking into you so feverishly, until there’s a thick finger pressing into your achy entrance.

“Frankie, oh my god-” you gasp wetly, his finger so much thicker than one of your own. It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve had the touch of anything other than yourself. Your tiny, traveling bullet vibrator doesn’t feel like this. You can’t stretch yourself like this, you can’t drive yourself wild like he can.

He moves his finger around inside you, searching, searching, while he licks softly at your clit. “Where is it, baby?” he mutters against you, and you have to force your brain to work at least a little bit to decipher whatever the fuck he means.

His finger is still searching, stroking against your slick inner walls, and you can barely gasp out a, “up, up,” before he’s finally touching that sweet spot deep inside you. You can’t hide it when he does, gasping out a high pitched moan as pleasure rockets up your body.

“There it is, sweetheart,” he says, “good girl.”

And fuck, how do you hold yourself together when he says things like that. He licks again at your clit, but plays with that spongy spot inside you, abusing it. You’re so slick and hot, it doesn’t take long before he’s pressing a second finger into you, then a third. And his fingers are so fucking thick, breaking you apart and pressing into that wonderful spot inside you. Your vision is blurring at the edges as he plays with you like a practiced instrument. How is he so good at this? Your body barely feels like it’s your own, just Frankie’s; his to play with, his to fuck. God, he’s ruining you. It’s never been this good.

“Frankie, Frankie-” you whimper his name like a prayer, and his fingers move fast into you, jackhammering you into the mattress. You whine as he breaks his mouth from your clit, but he keeps his fingers pressed deep inside of you as he leans over your trembling body.

“C’mon baby, c’mon baby,” he mutters, moving his fingers inside you so roughly that you could swear he’s trying to break you in two. “What do you need, sweetheart? What do you need to cum all over my fingers, huh?”

“Just keep-” you gasp between shuddering moans. “Just keep talking to me, fuck, please-”

“Talk about what, gorgeous? Talk about how hard I am for you right now? How hard you always make me?” You whine at his words, and you can feel his smirk against the skin of your shoulder. His fingers move into you even harder, if that’s even possible. “Fuck, princesa, you have to know how fucking sexy you are. Make me so fucking hard whenever we fly together. Fuck, watched you bend over to pick up your bag once, right in front of me. Had to fuckin’ jerk my cock as soon as we got back to the hotel. Can’t help it around you baby.”

You feel like you’re underwater. Frankie’s voice is deep and dark in your ear, and your pussy is so fucking sensitive. You can feel your orgasm burning relentlessly in your stomach. Just a little more, just a little-

“Thought about taking you to the back of the plane, mid flight. Thought about fucking you hard, stuffing this pretty pussy, making you go back out to work with my cum dripping down your thighs. You want that, sweet girl? Fuck you’re so pretty, so pretty baby, you’ve gotta cum. Please, please let me fuck this pussy. Be my good girl, cum all over my hand.”

You don’t think he means it like a command, but you follow it anyway. You moan, throaty and wet, into the sheets as your cunt clenches around Frankie’s fingers, hips twitching as he presses reassuring kisses to your shoulder. You turn your head blindly, and he leans forward to meet your lips in a bruising kiss, his fingers buried deep inside as you gush all over his hand.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, repeating it like a mantra, and Frankie whimpers, needy and so hot that it makes you want to cry.

“Okay, baby, okay, I’ve got you,” he says, and you know he does.

When Frankie presses the blunt tip of his cock against the opening of your sensitive pussy, you both groan. You push your hips back just as he pushes his hips forward, and the tip of his cock is just as big as the rest of him. Which, of course, means fucking massive. You have to breathe through the stretch of him inside you as he sinks deep, deeper, deeper.

“Doing so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus fuck- ah- so fucking tight baby- fucking beautiful- oh fuck-” Frankie mutters, sounding just as overwhelmed as you feel. It feels like forever until he bottoms out, his hips pressed against your ass as he hunches over you, hot and big and all man. It’s a dream that you’ve had before, but the reality is so much better than anything you could have ever imagined.

“So- you’re so big, Frankie,” you whimper, and Frankie groans behind you. “Need you to fuck me, wanna feel it tomorrow, please, please-” and he does. He pulls his hips back, just to shove himself back in, and the drag of his fat cock against that spot he found earlier has tears springing unbidden to your eyes.

“Yes! Oh my god, like that, just like that-” you’ve never talked this much before during sex. But his unyielding thrusts, deep, deep inside, have you babbling wildly.

“Christ, you can’t talk like that, princesa, gonna make me blow my fucking load-”

“Want it, fuck Frankie, want you dripping down my fucking thighs, wanna gape open after you fuck me, oh god-”

Frankie fucks in harder, and it’s like every thought you’ve ever had flies out of you. His chest and stomach press into your back as he holds you still, thrusting desperately into you, harder and harder.

The bed is creaking, a rhythmic squeak that mixes in with the endless sounds of your keening whines and Frankie’s moans, and the obscene squelching of your pussy around Frankie’s cock. Your wetness drips down your thighs as Frankie bullies his way inside. He’s hitting that beautiful spot inside you, so perfectly, so overwhelmingly perfect, and fuck, tears are dripping down your face as you clutch onto a pillow, only able to squeak out pitiful whines of “Frankie, Frankie,” as he destroys you.

“So fucking gorgeous for me, god, bebita, fuckin’- fucking tight, fucking strangling me. Been too long, honey? Too long since you got fucked like you deserve?” Frankie growls into your ear, fucking you like a god damn animal.

Frankie’s lost control above you, which he just doesn’t do. He’s always in control, always, he has to be in this profession. But it’s like you’ve stripped him bare, literally and figuratively, to the most primal parts of himself. You’re so fucking hot and wet and tight around him, whining and throwing yourself back on his cock like it’s the best you’ve ever had, and he’s losing it. Losing it far too quickly, and he’s going to cum far too quickly.

“C’mon, baby, give me another one,” he groans, “squeeze my cock with this perfect fuckin’ pussy, wanna, wanna feel it.”

“Touch my clit- oh please, please, Frankie, ah- ah” and he does, the moment the words leave your lips. He reaches underneath the both of you, not breaking the rhythm of his hips driving into yours, and rubs two of those thick, calloused fingers against your throbbing clit.

“Fuck- yes, just like that, just like that, oh my god.” You’re slurring your words, so stupidly drunk on the feeling of his cock filling you over and over, of his body radiating heat above you.

“Gonna take care of you hermosa, make you cum like you deserve, so fuckin’ beautiful crying on my cock,” Frankie says, rubbing your clit hard and methodical. “Never gonna get enough of you baby. Gonna fuck you in every hotel we ever get, fuck you at the terminal, fuck this pussy in the god damn cockpit, oh shit-”

And you’re screaming, outright screaming into the sheets as the thread in your stomach snaps, your pussy clenching and gushing all over Frankie’s giant cock. He’s still mumbling into the cook of your neck, mindless mumbles about how pretty you are, how perfect, as you tremble through the most powerful orgasm of your fucking life. It’s devastating, it breaks you apart and puts you back together all at once, and you just have to trust Frankie to hold you together in his strong arms.

“Where do you want it, huh baby? Please, please, you’ve gotta tell me, oh shit-” Frankie whimpers, and it’s a damned good thing you still have enough brain cells to understand what he means.

“Inside, inside, 'm on the pill, please, please fill me up.” It’s fucking risky that you both didn’t even think about a condom, but with a man like Frankie, it’s hard to think about anything.

His hips still, his cock pressed inside so deep that it feels like he could be in your lungs, as he fills your pussy with his cum. He bites harshly into your shoulder, but it doesn’t fully muffle his whimpers as he crashes through his orgasm. Your eyes flutter shut. You wish you could bottle those sounds and listen to them forever.

Your knees slide out from under you, leaving you laying flat on your stomach, and Frankie follows, holding himself against you as you wait for your breathing to slow.

“That was…” you whisper into the quiet.

“Fucking amazing.”

You can’t suppress your giggle. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Frankie.”

He tucks his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you can feel his pretty smile, before he’s lifting himself off of you, and you realize how cold you are without his heat.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” he says, and you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than nod. Frankie rushes quickly into the en suite bathroom, and you can hear the sink running for a moment, before he comes back. A warm, wet rag makes its way down your back, over the curve of your ass, and between your legs. He’s ridiculously gentle as he wipes you down, and it’s wonderful.

Once Frankie deems you clean again, he climbs into bed next to you. He wraps his arms around your placid body, tugging you close. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, Frankie,” you murmur, but you only snuggle closer, relishing in his deep chuckle.

“I’m usually not.”

“You don’t do this often, though?” you say, dragging a finger down his chest, your eyes already fluttering shut.

You feel Frankie’s lips press to your forehead as he murmurs, “I think I’m willing to let this,” he hugs you against him softly, “become a new habit.”

You smile, and you lean up to kiss him gently. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

#*runs away again for another month*#Frankie the man that you are #always here to pull me out of a writing slump #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x fem!reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier fic #triple frontier smut #triple frontier x reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

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Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {7}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Your mother finally gets the truth out of you regarding Max. Warnings: 18+ only, swearing, angst WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight

The double bed was definitely not made to accommodate three people, even if you were all spooning, so you found yourself sneaking out at sunrise. You hadn’t been able to sleep with the thoughts running through your head, wondering why Max couldn’t have been more like your mother. You weren’t worried about waking Lando as you climbed out from between them, since you didn’t have an air horn on you, but you were careful not to jostle Charles who was a much lighter sleeper.

After changing into a pair of leggings and a sports bra, you found your airpods and shoved the Aura ring back on your finger before taking a lap of the village. You quickly settled into a good pace, feeling the rhythmic slap of your trainers on the pavement and timing your breathing to match. It cleared your mind and gave you a focus on something other than everything else that was happening around you. For those precious minutes you didn’t think about Max.

So far you had managed to avoid talking about him with your mum, though that was mostly thanks to being blindsided by your relationship status - it had been enough to distract her for the rest of the day. You weren’t so sure that luck would last another 24 hours but you would certainly try.

“Just leave her be, she’ll come in when she’s ready.” Your mother had been watching you all morning from her spot on the window seat, a cup of tea in hand. After Charles had woken up he had joined her and watched curiously, wondering why you were in the garden. “Avoiding me,” she said with a knowing smile. “It’s funny that the only times she would willingly do her chores were when she was trying to hide. It was a dead giveaway, but I never said anything. It was just nice to not have to ask her to do them.”

Charles chuckled as you battled to trim the agapanthus with a pair of rusted and blunt shears. “Should I offer to help?”

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head, checking the time on her watch. “She’s nearly done.”

Charles quirked an eyebrow as he looked at the progress that had barely started to make a dent in the long drive.

“Fuck,” you hissed as you the slimy residue that leaked from every cut leaf made your hand slippery and the shears fell from your grasp, narrowly missing your foot. You went to wipe a wayward hair that fell onto your nose but the sun caught the shimmer of slime and you jerked back with a groan, instead trying to blow it out of your face. You grew more irritated as the hair remained where it was tickling your nose and the urge to sneeze built up. “Fuck this shit.”

Abandoning the garden, you marched up the path and kicked your filthy shoes off before storming through the house.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mother greeted jovially. “Lovely day for a spot of gardening.”

“I’m calling Mr Newberry,” you grumbled on your way to the bathroom. “He can sort that mess out.”

You felt slightly calmer after washing away the slime and the chlorophyll that stained your fingers green and that feeling only grew when you found Charles waiting with a coffee made just how you liked it. “Busy morning?” he asked after handing over your elixir of life and taking his payment with a quick kiss.

“I’m just trying to help out,” you said with an innocent shrug. “I made a list of things that need fixing around here and if I don’t make the phone calls they will never get done.”

Charles tried to hide his amusement but when you narrowed your eyes at him he couldn’t stop the smile from breaking through. “Your mother knows you so well,” he laughed as he leaned in to whisper, “She knows you are avoiding her.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Yes, she does,” he assured you, running his hands along your sides before he kissed your forehead. “Just talk to her, amour.”

A shirtless and sleepy Lando stumbled his way into the room, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he made a beeline for the two of you. You placed your mug on the table before he reached you and let him fall into the middle of the embrace as his eyes fluttered shut again. He must have been burrowed under the blankets because the heat radiating off him was almost hotter than the blistering shower you had taken.

“Why are you awake?” he mumbled against your neck.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“She’s being a coward and avoiding her mum.”

That made Lando battle his exhausted state and force his eyes to open as his forehead crinkled with a frown. “Why?”

“I’m not.”

“Because she wants to know why that person-we-can’t-mention-for-another-eight-days keeps calling her.”

“You can say his name,” you grumbled. “Max Verstappen, World Champion, Number One. Prodigal Son. Cunt.”

Your mother gasped as she entered the room with a fresh brew of tea. “I should wash your mouth out with soap, young lady.”

You winced at the reprimand. “Oops, turns out we can’t say his name.”

“This has gone on long enough, take a seat - family meeting,” she ordered as she pointed to the table. Lando and Charles took a step towards the door but your mum tutted. “You’re a part of this family now too, gentlemen.”

“Should I put a shirt on?” Lando asked as he looked down at himself. “Or shorts?”

“Please don’t.” “Please do.” You spoke at the same time as your mother, both of you sending each other slightly irritated looks.

“Two Spitfires, Char, there’s two now,” he whispered under his breath as he went to get dressed. He obviously had been in a rush and blindly pulled clothes out because the tense atmosphere wasn’t enough to stop Charles from grinning at the sight of Lando in his Ferrari shirt.

Seated at one end of the table, you faced your mother while your poor boyfriends were the buffer between. Lacing her fingers together, she stared back at you and made that heavy sigh that every parent could which immediately induced waves of guilt. You didn’t even have anything to be guilty over, but it happened anyway.

“What happened with Max?”

You crossed your arms at the direct question. “This is why I don’t bring people home.”

“What happened with Max?”

“Nothing.” You dropped your head to the table with a thud as her penetrating stare became too much to look at.

“What happened with Max?”

“Fucksake,” you groaned as her persistence won over your impatience. “He called you a whore…well technically he called me one too, but it doesn’t matter. He disrespected you, mum, so instead of calling you what he can do is he can take his phone and go fuck himself with it.”

Lando covered his mouth as a quiet squeak slipped out behind his apologetic smile and you reached out with your foot, running it up and down his leg. You felt bad for subjecting him to this drama when he was as introverted as they come - not that anyone would guess after seeing him on tv. Charles seemed to just take everything on the chin and not a lot fazed him at all, but like you he was reaching out to soothe Lando under the table too.

“I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry,” you said as you started to push your chair out.

“Wait, please,” your mum asked quietly as her face softened. “He shouldn’t have said that, sweetheart, and I’m sorry that he did. I’m assuming it was after he found out about the three of you?”

You all nodded sullenly and she sighed. “It’s a shock, that’s no excuse, but it was a big shock. Maybe you should talk to him? It’s been a few days, he’s had time to think and reflect. You might be surprised.”

“Have you ever heard Max apologise?” you asked Lando and Charles. Both of their eyebrows furrowed in thought before they shook their heads. “See, Max doesn’t apologise, and I have no interest in hearing anything else from him.”

“As long as you’re doing it for yourself, honey, and not on my behalf. I have been called every name under the sun, but it's water off a duck's back. Don’t miss out on the opportunity to repair the relationship for some vindication for me. He’s your brother and you have missed so much of each other’s life already.” Your mother sighed again as she saw you had heard her words but they hadn’t broken the wall you had built. “Just think about it.”

She rose from the table, walking around it to rest her hand on your shoulder. “Just think about it,” she repeated before she left the room as you sagged in your chair like a puppet whose string had been cut.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out to see your reflection broken on the screen. It still hadn’t been repaired from the last argument you had with Max when you accidentally cracked it. Perhaps it was a good reminder to keep.

Unlocking the device, you saw the notification from family share - alerting you that your location services were in use.

“Fucking cunt,” you groaned before hearing your name from the other end of the house. “Sorry! Can I call him a prick?”

Lando laughed and this time Charles joined in as your mother ranted to herself about your language. You couldn’t help that you grew up around mechanics and drivers, they were the most foul mouthed bunch of people.

Reaching across, Charles took a look at your phone before updating Lando. “He tracked her.”

“What do you want to do?”

Five minutes ago you would have ditched the phone and packed the car. Five minutes ago you might have threatened harassment. Five minutes of talking with your mother changed everything.

“I don’t know,” you admitted as you dropped your head in your hands until they were pulled away. You could wear a blindfold and still know exactly who was holding your hand, recognising their touch and feel with the familiarity of intimacy. “What do you think I should do?”

“I’m not ready to forgive him for how he spoke to you, amour,” Charles shrugged. “If he was my brother, I honestly don’t know if that would change anything.”

“I’ll follow your lead, baby,” Lando said as he lifted your hand to his lips. “Whatever you decide. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you look really good in that shirt,” you said as you looked at Charles for confirmation, his smirk evident. “Really, really good.”

“I always look good. Stay focused.”

“I am focused. I am going to call the gardener, and someone to fix that bloody pavement. Then, maybe, I’ll think about what to do next, it’s not like he’s going to be knocking down the door right this minute.”

Both of them turned to the door expecting to hear it knock and you rolled your eyes. “He’s not the bogeyman. He just likes to think he is.”

You took your phone back and opened the family share app, selecting Max’s phone and watched as it zeroed in on the pin drop. “Shit,” you sighed as the blue dot moved along the street. Leaning back in the chair, you craned your neck to see out the window and caught sight of an Audi SUV pulling in the driveway. “I take that back. Can we run?”

Click here for chapter eight.

#charles leclerc x reader x lando norris #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc x you #lando norris x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 rpf

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7ndipity · 13 days

Text

Mornings/Evenings With Jimin

Jimin x Reader

Summary: just some headcanons and a lil blurb about morning/evening moments w Jimin

Warnings, lil suggestive, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to my lovely Star anon who requested this! It's a lil random, but I hope you'll still like it!

Masterlist

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Mornings with Jimin tend to actually start more in the afternoon, due to his slanted sleep schedule, but they’re still cozy nonetheless.

He’s very slow to wake, burying his face in your back or neck as he clings to sleep for just a little longer.

“Five more minutes.” “You said that fifteen minutes ago.” “I mean it this time.”

Once you get up, he usually follows suit, albeit reluctantly.

He’s basically your shadow for the first little bit, trailing after you to the kitchen to help make breakfast(though he mostly just clings to you and steals part of your coffee)

Most days, when things are more rushed and you’re both just trying to get out the door on time, he makes a point to stop for a few seconds, pulling you to follow suit if he has to, meeting your eyes for a moment before giving you a sweet kiss.

It’s a little thing, but sometimes those ten seconds are the only moments you get to have together during the day, and so he makes sure to never miss them.

Evenings are much slower and quieter, again partly due to how late his schedules tend to be.

A lot of nights, you’re already in bed by the time he gets home, and so he quietly runs through his evening routine before slipping under the covers with you.

On the nights when you’re both still awake and able to spend more time together make him so happy, even if it’s just getting ready for bed together. He loves those quiet little moments with you.

Sleepily brushing your teeth together, him leaning against you when he feels extra tired.

He’s said before that it takes him a while to fall asleep, so I see him really enjoying just laying in bed talking about the day's events with you. Words just flow a lot easier when he’s buried in the pillows with you.

Tbh, his bed is one of his favorite places. He loves any excuse for you to just lay together, talking about anything and everything, without having to worry about work or schedules, just you and him being your most true, relaxed selves.

At the end of the day, nothing else matters to him, so long as he gets to fall asleep next to you.

Jimin nuzzled in close to you as he climbed into bed as quietly as possible, his hands creeping along your curves.

It was well past midnight, the room dimly lit by the bedside lamp you’d left on before falling asleep.

“Y/n.” He whispered, his breath brushing over the exposed skin of your neck, raising goosebumps.

“Chim, quit it, ‘m tired.” You mumbled sleepily, trying feebly to shake his hands off.

“I’m not trying to start anything, Angel, ” He promised, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I just need my goodnight kiss before I go to sleep.”

If your eyes had been open, you might have rolled them at him. You played along though, rolling over so he could reach your lips more easily, feeling his arms instantly wrap around you tightly.

He quickly connected his mouth to yours, swallowing your quiet squeak of surprise at his intensity, his lips moving slowly but firmly against yours.

You shivered as he slipped one hand beneath the fabric of your pajama top, the cool contrast of his fingers causing goosebumps to raise on your warm skin, the other coming to cradle the back of your head, drawing you closer.

All too soon, he pulled away, staring down at you with dark eyes.

“Better?” You asked, slightly breathless.

“Mmh, thank you.” He hummed, pecking your lips a few more times.

You were acutely aware of his hands still on you, his fingers digging into your side, causing you to squirm slightly beneath him, earning a questioning look from him.

“I thought you said you were tired?” He asked, giving you a knowing smirk.

“Things change.” You replied, pulling him back down to you.

He chuckled against your lips, kissing you for another long moment, before pulling back again.

“It’s late, you need sleep.” He said softly, shifting the two of you to rest more comfortably, pulling you to rest against his chest.

“Tease.” You grumbled, furthering his amusement.

“Love you too.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard

#jimin scenarios #jimin headcanons #jimin blurb #jimin fluff #jimin x y/n #jimin x reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts headcanons #bts blurbs #bts requests #bts scenarios #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts fluff #7ndipity #⭐anon

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reverie-starlight · 2 months

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...some atsumu fluff to warm up for the birth month of me AND this blog bc he is my husband. extremely self-ship coded bc I set a million alarms and snooze them all and it would piss him off, which I love doing <3

gn!reader, no physical descriptions, university student reader. fluffy fluff. very short.

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atsumu groans when he hears your alarm go off for the fifth time that morning. it's loud enough that the sound travels from behind the closed door of your bedroom all the way to where he's leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking his morning protein shake. he hears the exact moment you cut off its wailing two seconds later.

"looks like it's gonna be one of those mornings," he mumbles to himself, taking another sip. he tries to savour his last moments of early morning peace before chaos breaks out.

getting you up in the mornings could be... challenging... to put it kindly. there are just some days you don't want to get up for class or make the trek to campus. he regularly hears you whining about how you screwed yourself over with choosing too many early classes. if he's being honest, it makes him even more satisfied with his decision to not attend university. he's spent many mornings trying to coax you out from under the covers to no avail.

but thankfully miya atsumu loves a challenge.

his success rate has been 100% lately, much to your dismay and begrudging appreciation, because you both know you care too much to actually miss a lecture, no matter how much you value your sleep. so after downing the rest of his smoothie, he puts his glass in the sink and pushes himself off the counter, heading to the bedroom.

he enters the room with no intentions of being quiet and jumps right onto his side of the bed. he bites back a grin when you startle and mutter some colourful words under your breath.

"babyyyy~" his voice is full of excitement and he just knows it's making you regret shutting off your alarms.

"atsumu, please, five more min-" you begin whining, but he cuts you off.

"nope! ya gotta start your day, or you're gonna be late." he places a hand on your shoulder and shakes you a bit.

you groan. "'tsum, please. I'm so tired..."

he tuts a little. "no can do, I'm afraid. you're the one who told me you've got an exam comin' up next week."

you don't respond and he grins, knowing he's getting closer. he moves his hand from your shoulder to the comforter covering your body and rips it off.

"ATSUMU!" you shriek, trying to steal back its warmth and go back to sleep.

the blonde just laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead when you lunge for the covers. he relents and lets you believe he’s showing mercy, watching as you bury yourself back into a burrito.

“five more minutes, but if you’re not up by then I’ll really make ya regret not listenin’.”

you scoff and wave him off, incorrectly assuming he’s gone soft on you.

four and a half minutes later, he’s sneaking back into the bedroom and waiting until his timer hit exactly five minutes to pounce on you.

you yelp a little, but it quickly dissolves into peels of laughter as his hands attack every side of the blanket prison you had unknowingly trapped yourself in.

“atsumu, nO!” you attempt, but you can’t reach him from inside the blanket and he knows.

"ya brought this on yourself, sweetheart. could've had me waking ya up with kisses and some sweet talk, but ya just have to make things difficult for me, hm?"

“nooo I’m sorryyyy-“ you plead for forgiveness, beg him, anything to get him to stop tickling you.

he finally relents a bit when he realizes that you might not be able to breathe under there and watches as you peek your face out a bit, weary eyes glued to his form.

“are ya gonna get up now?”

he snickers when you nod fervently and pats your leg over the comforter. “alright, hurry up, then. I made ya coffee. I’ll walk with ya to the train.”

“won’t you be late, then?” you ask on your way to the washroom.

he shrugs. “worth it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

again, super short, but very sweet I hope. birth month calls for lots of content for my favs, so get ready <3

#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff

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sweetsreverie · 2 years

Note

I absolutely love the Ghost x Pink!Reader fic you wrote! Could you write a sequel? Maybe a breakfast next morning + cute and fluffy waking up with Simon. Those two were apart from each other for a while I assume so being a bit clingy is understandable.

summary: pt. 2 of this opposites attract fic. you and simon spend the morning together before he leaves once more.

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x female reader

wc: 1,147

Simon and the rest of 141 slept soundly that night. Simon was glad to be at home with you, in his own bed, and the others were glad to not be sleeping on the ground and in a proper house. You’d also given Soap a sherpa-lined blanket to sleep under, and he definitely enjoyed that.

As happy as you were to have Simon home for the night, you knew it was going to be just that: for the night. He would probably be leaving as soon as the sun came up, and it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary for you to wake up to his side of the bed empty and cold.

But when you woke up the next morning and opened your eyes, he was still beside you. He wasn’t asleep, but rather just resting beside you as you did.

“You guys haven’t left yet?” You ask him softly, and you stretch your arms out towards him, which he welcomes. You lean over and put your head on his chest, with your arm around his waist. Simon isn’t always one for cuddling, but he always lets you rest against him.

“We should probably be gone by now. But I don’t hear Price making a fuss so we must be fine.” Simon says softly in his gravelly morning voice that you’d come to love so much. His hair is tousled and his eyes are droopy, and it just makes you want to tuck him in once more.

“Let him make a fuss in my house. He’ll see.” You mumble against him, and you feel the small chuckle that leaves Simon.

“Yeah. you’ll give him hell, won’t you.”

“That’s right.”

Simon gives the top of your head a little tap of his fingertips, and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and brushes some hair away from your face once you turn and look up at him.

His touch is featherlight as always.

“We should get up though. Don’t want those bums to think they can stay here forever.” Simon murmurs, and when he moves to try and sit up, your grip around his middle tightens.

“Five more minutes?” You ask him hopefully, and he settles back down in his spot on the bed.

You and Simon spend a few more minutes in the bed before you get up, and you make your way to the kitchen after freshening up in the bathroom, and Simon stays behind to brush his teeth.

The three other men are awake by the time you enter the room, and Price was already working on folding the blankets and cleaning up the pillows and things.

“Are you guys hungry? I can make some tea or coffee- I think we have some biscuits too?” You offer them, and honestly you don’t have a ton in the kitchen, considering you weren’t expecting to be feeding guests any time soon.

“That would be wonderful, thank you very much Y/N. We’ll be out of your hair shortly. Thank you for letting us stay the night here.” Price says while he takes a seat on the couch, and Soap sits down at the kitchen table while you start warming up a kettle of water.

“You know, I think Ghost is real lucky to have a woman like you in his life.” Soap says, and not even a second later, Simon steps in, clad in his gear and some clean clothes.

“And why is that?” He asks, and while you could barely contain the giggle that left you, Soap was quick to shut up. Simon’s hand brushes against your waist while he passes by you in the kitchen, and that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by the others.

The five of you sip on tea and munch on biscuits, and you know that shortly after, Simon is going to pack up his things and head out again.

Simon hates having to leave you. He hates not being able to tell you where he is, or when he’ll be home. That is.. if he comes home.

So while Price, Soap, and Gaz start to pack their things into the truck they came here in, Simon takes you back to the bedroom and sits on the bed with you. He sits with you on his lap, and one of your arms is around his neck while you lean against him.

“You know I’ll be back soon, love. I always come back to you, don’t I?” Simon asks you, and he reaches up to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod, though you still always fear the worst while he’s away.

“You do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you while you’re gone.” You tell him softly, and he puts his hand on your knee and gives it an assuring squeeze.

“I don’t want you to worry yourself sick over me, Y/N. You know that.” Simon says while he rests his chin on top of your head. Simon doesn’t want to imagine you worrying about him while he’s away. He wants you to just take care of yourself, and he’ll return in due time.

“Meeting your team makes me feel better, you know.” You tell him, and Simon lets out a quiet chuckle while he shifts on the bed, and gives you a gentle nudge so you stand up, and he stands up also.

“C’mon. I gotta get going” Simon says while he leads you out of the bedroom, and he slips his mask over his head during the short walk outside. You take his hand as you walk, and as the two of you exit the house, Soap grins at the sight of Ghost holding hands with someone.

“Alright, you guys be safe, okay? And you take care of my Simon.” You tell them, and Gaz lets out a quiet chuckle while Price gets in the truck.

“We all look out for each other, so don’t you worry. He’s in good hands. Mostly.” Gaz says while he looks over at Soap, who narrows his eyes at the man briefly.

“Alright, you two say your goodbyes then.” Soap says, and he glances at Gaz before the two of them climb in the truck.

Simon turns to you then, and he brushes a gloved finger over your cheek carefully.

“I love you. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He says in a hushed voice, as if the guys in the truck could hear him.

“I love you too. Take care of yourself and them. Come back home to me, Simon.” You return, and you stand up on your toes slightly to kiss his cheek over the mask before he gives you a wave, and he climbs in the car with the rest of 141.

You watch as they pull away from the house, and you and Simon share a glance before the truck disappears over the hill.

tag list: @ho3forghost @juggernaunt @shellfishb34ch @redpool

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty reader insert #female reader #pink!reader #simon riley fic

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myvampyrez · 1 month

Note

Hi! So, for the request, i was wondering if you could do sfw and nsfw (if u want, ofc) headcanons like you did for Vergil, but for Cloud Strife? It’d be super nice if you could, but no problem if u don’t like the request !!

cloud strife (n)sfw hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

i haven’t recovered from crisis core, guys.

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

spoilers and mentions of crisis core and advent children, mentions of the massage scene in ffvii remake 😭😭, nsfw will be labeled and put in a separate section of headcanons, intended lowercase, lmk if i missed anything, love 💕!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ so!!

❥ let me just start by saying that when you start dating cloud, you must know what you’re getting into— and by that, i mean that he’s super emotionally constipated and is often frazzled with his memory (depending on which arc we’re in).

❥ i think you’d have more luck with a more receptive response if you met him during cc or somewhat before, for instance— being childhood friends with him like tifa was. i think after the events of cc / during ac is where it gets more difficult to get him to open up.

❥ for love language, in terms of giving, i think cloud performs acts of service to show his love. he absolutely sucks with words but small things he does are his subtle ways of showing you he loves you without being able to say it. like walking you home or making you coffee when he notices that you’ve stayed up the night before.

❥ clouds very observant, so while you were at your desk working on whatever you were doing, he came home a little late to see you slaving away at your desk. he didn’t say much, if anything maybe a, “you’re up?” before he goes to sleep. but that morning he makes sure to wake up extra early to make you some coffee.

❥ or maybe, when you guys are hanging out at seventh heaven or something, he’ll walk you home. his excuse is that it’s not safe in the slums to walk home by yourself.. and while that is true, he just really wants to make sure you’re safe. he’ll act like he’s bothered by your small talk, but will still continue to respond.

❥ another thing i might consider for cloud is gift giving. he’d probably bring you something back from the other sectors if hes on a mission or something.

❥ with receiving love languages, i think it’d take him some time to be open to it but words of affirmation always manages to tint his cheeks a little pink.

❥ he can’t help it?? he’s just like a old pitbull that craves pets every so once in awhile. he’s the dog that’ll lay at your feet with a big sigh as you gentle rub behind his ears, even though he’ll literally walk away five minutes later as if he wasn’t clinging onto you.

❥ due to hectic and erratic schedule of his job, he also cherishes the quality time that you two have while you can. even if this is before he’s a merc, maybe perhaps when he’s still a shinra infantryman, he still revels in the moments you two spend alone. anything could happen, and he’s grateful for every moment he spends with you, especially after the events of cc.

❥ he can be the wisest dude ever and then malfunction right afterwards. this is also stemmed from his interaction with jessie in ffvii remake where he says that survival is a matter of luck and skill, and you can’t rely on luck— to which jessie agrees. then he literally doesn’t know what to say afterwards. it’s like a.. 35/65 chance of these moments. just agree with him or compliment his thoughts and that’ll be enough to shut him up for a few minutes!!!

❥ as for dates!! i read @silverflqmes’s dating headcanons for agzsc (by the way??? amazing??? go follow them rn!1!1!1) and they mentioned how they could see cloud taking you out on his motorcycle to the outskirts and let me tell you I AGREE. cloud is obviously not a people person, so i also think he’d prefer to go to a small clearing or somewhere quiet where only the two of you would be seen. after all the chaos of his job, he likes a little quiet time.

❥ i don’t think cloud would like to have you involved in his work, and if you were, he’d at least spend a lot of time sparring with you or training with you to help teach you defense. he overthinks a lot, so he’s always thought about something happening while he’s away. “you need to be able to protect yourself when i’m not there.” he always says. cloud may not be a very.. responsive— teacher but you’ll definitely learn something nonetheless!!

❥ don’t let cloud’s bluntness fool you!! he may be dry but he does care for you!!! you may not realize it but you could ask for almost anything from him and he’d oblige for free, and we all know cloud, he’s just doin stuff for the pay. oh it’s 250 gil? nah keep it he’ll get it for you dwdw pookie.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

NSFW BELOW ꨄ︎

❥ let me just get smth off my chest, okay???

❥ i am a firm rider on the virgin/inexperienced!cloud train.

❥ and no it’s not just because this is lowkey self indulgent, i just don’t really think cloud ever took much of an interest with pursuing sexual and romantic relationships like that.

❥ i can’t see cloud doing anything wild either? i think he’s pretty vanilla for the most part besides maybe a small praise kink or something like that. just you telling him how good he feels or how good he’s making you feel is like an instant uplifter for him.

❥ guys.. that deluxe massage scene.. stays rent free in my brain..

❥ yeah those noises in that scene also apply to the bedroom, too.

❥ pace definitely depends on his mood!! if you guys are both tired or just don’t feel like going super fast, then cloud will take more of a slow pace, maybe even occasionally teasing you. but if he’s perhaps a little jealous, albeit how much he tries to assure you that he doesn’t, then he will literally drill into you. good luck 😭.

❥ cloud doesn’t have a very high libido, but he still savors the moments when you guys do get intimate. that’s why he likes to go slow— so that you both can really cherish this moment. even if he’s super awkward and unsure of what to do with himself.

❥ cloud’s definitely pretty average in terms of girth, maybe a little bit more lengthier? he’s very sensitive though, so be careful!!!

❥ you def are gonna have to show cloud what makes you feel good and what to do in these moments considering his inexperience. cloud’s a quick learner though, so he should pick up on it pretty fast.

❥ he’s very observant, and on days when he’s focused on giving you pleasure, he makes sure to take notice of all your expressions and noises.

❥ i need to be contained holy crap

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beastofbrden · 9 months

Text

four times james took care of you + one time he told you why | J.P

bf!james potter x clumsy!fem!reader

content: we gotta give the people the fluff the people need word count: 5000

content warning: mentions of unintentional self harm (nothing major), reader flushes, reader sits on james' lap, tickling, me projecting big time notes: we love james "acts of service" potter 😵‍💫

Your eyes fluttered open at the crisp sound of the common room’s fire. Taking a few moments to get fully conscious, you noticed the scene around you: you were cocooned into James’ lap, your head resting against his neck. He was snoring softly while holding you tightly in an old armchair. You two had about five different pieces of homework due tomorrow, but after a long day, you had agreed to “rest a little” after dinner. By the looks of it, you two had rested much more than a little. Delicately moving James’ head, you looked around. Besides you and James, there were only a few students and Remus, who was entertained with a book near the tables.

- Remus? - Your voice came out hoarsely - What time is it?

- Good morning, sunshine - He giggled - It’s a little after nine, I think.

- Nine? Oh, shit… - You turned to wake James up, your heart suddenly racing with the amount of work you had to do in such little time. But when you looked at James, he was sleeping so peacefully into you, his thick lashes resting softly against his flushed cheeks, that adorable pout he made when he was deeply asleep. If you didn't have so much to do, you would never have the heart to wake him up.

- Baby? - You kissed his cheek delicately - Baby, wake up. We have work to do.

You brushed his hair out his face when he fussed.

- C’mon, Jamie, it’s already past nine…

- No - James pushed you into him and snuggled you further - Let’s stay here.

- Jamie…

- Knock it off - Being the big baby he always was, he held you tightly so you couldn't move, the same way he did when you woke him up in the mornings.

Fighting against his strong arms, you were able to free yourself, even if he kept trying to hold on into whatever he could, in this case, your hand. Using all your strength, you started pushing him into Remus’ table.

- Stop being a baby and let’s just do it, alright?

He groaned loudly, but allowed you to drag him. You sat him down on a chair and he rubbed his eyes sleepily.

- We have a lot of things to do, and if we want to sleep tonight, we’ll have to hurry up, okay?

- Aye aye, captain - James yawned.

- So, we have… - you checked a piece of parchment in which you had written down a to-do list before dinner - Five different subjects to do homework for.

- How have we built up that much homework? - James inquired, astonished.

- Because you distract me

- I distract you? - James snickered - More like the other way around!

- Oh, yeah? - You crossed your arms and raised a playful eyebrow at him - How’s that so?

- You know how… - James pulled you in for a kiss.

- My god, get a room - Remus grimaced from his seat.

- Alright, let me see - you bend down to your backpack, placed near the edge of the table. - Charms… - you started listing while placing your heavy books on the table and bending back down - DADA… Herbology… Potions… Divination…

Remus snorted from his seat.

- What? - You asked, confused.

- Nothing… - Remus hid his amused smile behind his book.

- What was that about? - You asked James.

- Dunno. - He shrugged and stretched - There’s no way I’m going to stay awake for all that unless I go wash my face or something. I’ll just go to the bathroom then we’ll get started, alright? Be right back.

- Don't you dare try to escape this, James Potter! - You warned him as he walked away.

- Never, baby - He teased, throwing you a kiss.

He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you and Remus all alone. You started sorting out the books into piles in James’ absence, quickly realizing you had forgotten to get some parchment for the Charms essay. Reaching to your backpack, you ended up hitting your head on the sharp edge of the mahogany table.

- Ouch! - you exclaimed, quietly.

Once again, you heard Remus’ giggle on the other side of the table.

- What are you laughing about, uh? - You asked while applying pressure to the bang in a useless try to minimize the pain.

- Nothing. - Remus smiled and you gestured for him to keep on talking. He sighed and put his book down - It’s just… It’s just that you and James are too cute, that’s all.

- And that makes you laugh?

- Yes, because I find it adorable.

- Can you elaborate, maybe?

- Ah, you know… - Remus gestured dismissively, but quickly noticed your confused expression and smiled - You really don’t know, do you?

- Know what?

- When you were getting your books - Remus put his book down to explain - James kept his hand on the edge of the table so you wouldn’t hurt yourself. He always does that, almost subconsciously at this point. When he left, you bumped against it because you are unconsciously used to having his hand there to protect you. And I don’t know… that’s just really cute.

Remus returned his attention to the book and left you alone with your thoughts. Did James really do that all the time? Just to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt, like you just did? You genuinely never noticed. You were flooded with a nice, warm feeling inside your chest, one that only James could bring you. Remus was right: it was cute. But… What if James does that because he finds you clumsy, graceless even? You wouldn’t want him to think you are that uncoordinated, so much so that he had to help you with it. You were clumsy, to be honest. Accidentally tripping, bumping against furniture, dropping your books, forgetting things… It was a daily occurrence for you, but you were used to it. You didn’t want James to think he had to worry about it.

Did he really do that?

- Oi - James’ return ripped you off your thoughts - Ready? We could start with DADA, maybe?

You had to see it yourself.

- Yes, perfect. Lemme just… get a quill.

James nodded and started opening his book. When you bent, you noticed James’ hand slipping towards the edge absentmindedly, almost like a second nature. When you straightened up, Remus’ smirk was visible.

The fifth year’s Astronomy class was assembled in the tower for an exam, which consisted of staying up very late to watch the night sky and fill your charts with specific planets’ positions. You all had been extremely unlucky of having said test scheduled on an extremely cold night, so cold that not even the owls were flying out of the owlery.

- It should be a crime to get us out here on this temperature - Sirius complained while shivering violently. - Hey, if we die or something at least we’ll die knowing Venus’ position at 2 AM, am I right?

Everyone had come covered in multiple layers of clothing, including their heaviest cloaks, scarfs, gloves and hats, and even then, everyone was chilled to the bone. You weren’t so bothered by the cold, since you had James, the human stove, to keep you warm. The only part of your body that was positively freezing was your hands. Because of your usual distraction, you had forgotten to get gloves before leaving your dorm. If you told James, he’d probably give up his own gloves for you, but ever since Remus pointed out James’ habit of saving you from your own clumsiness, you were really trying to show James you were independent, or at the very least, hide your distracted nature and show him you can take care of yourself. Except that was never your speciality. One way or another, you had your mind set, so you’d have to settle with icy hands tonight.

- No one will be dying tonight, mr. Black - your teacher, Miss Vickers, replied to Sirius with a sardonic tone.

James muffled a laugh.

- See, Pads? No one is dying. If it gets too bad, you can always get some dog fur, if you know what I mean.

- Right. Too bad some antlers won’t help at all.

James snuggled his chin between your neck and shoulder.

- Are you cold, lovie?

- No, I’m fine, Jamie - you whispered back, rubbing your cheek against his.

Forgetting about your new facade, you raised your hands to caress James’ curls. By doing so, he felt the extreme coldness of your hands.

- Y/N! Your hands are freezing! - James exclaimed worringly - Where are your gloves?

- In my pocket - you lied.

- And why are they in your pockets, and not your hands? - He mocked, lowering his head to stare at your side profile.

- Because I’m not cold - you lied, again, embarrassed.

- Right, cause ice lolly hands are super comfy - James snickered - C’mere.

With a swift but gentle movement, James made you face him. He pulled you into his arms, and used his glove clad hands to put yours inside his cloak’s pockets. You almost moaned in satisfaction when James took off his gloves and started rubbing your fingers with his warm palms

- You are really silly, you know that? - Your head, snuggled against his heartbeat, bobbed when his chest rumbled with a giggle. He rocked you both back and forth slightly while you enjoyed James’ warmth, his familiar scent, the comfortable sound of his heartbeat.

- You should’ve told me you had forgotten your gloves. - He smiled down at you.

- You could just have given me yours, that would’ve worked…

- I like this better - James hummed, placing his chin on the top of your head.

- It’s very simple, I swear. We just have to place the sweets on their table before dinner, and they’ll 100% eat it

Sirius was explaining to you and the Marauders the new prank he planned to pull on the Slytherins. This time around, he had made bonbons filled with a cream he had come up with. The cream was made out of Mandrake roots, something Sirius had discovered made anyone who ate it talk in a high-pitched voice for two days.

- Don’t you think they’ll find it weird that no other table has them? - Remus pointed out.

- Look at those guys! - Sirius pointed to the Slytherin table - Do you think they notice what everyone else is doing? And even if they notice, they are so self-absorbed they will think it’s a prize for being better than everyone else or something…

- Actually, that could work. - James chimed in while mindlessly rubbing circles around your leg - We can fake a note from Slughorn, and they’ll punch themselves to get the box.

You looked at your wrist watch while they discussed. Between the boys’ talk and James' caresses, you had lost track of time, and now you had five minutes to go all the way to the other side of the castle if you didn’t want to be late for Transfiguration.

- Oh my God! James, we have to go! - You couldn’t be late to McGonagall’s class again: the last time you did, she scolded both you and James for, in her own words, “lovebirding around forgetting about your education”.- Bye guys, see you later. You bid the Marauders goodbye. On light speed, you gathered your books and started leaving, presuming that James would follow. You were midway to the Great Hall’s door when he called you out:.

- Wait!

- Jamie, we’re late!

- I know, but there’s something I have to do.

When he finally reached you, he kneeled down.

- Baby, what are you doing? She will kill us both if we’re late again…

Your words trailed off when James put your feet on his lap and started lacing your shoes. Only then you noticed that you had been walking around with your shoelaces untied for God knows how long. You felt your cheeks getting warm.

- Done. - James smiled up at you when he finished securing the knots. He got up and kissed your lips softly, one hand caressing your cheek, as always.

- I know how to tie my shoes, y’know. - you grumbled.

- Yeah. I just… wanted to do it for you.

- Thank you, Jamie.

- Of course. Can’t have my girl stumbling around, can I? Let’s go before Minnie kills us.

- Are we going to Madam Puddifoot’s first?

You looked around Hogsmeade. You only had the chance to come here every once in a while, so everytime you and James’ class had a Hogsmeade weekend, you tried to make the most out of it.

- I was thinking we save Madam Puddifoot’s for last.

- Sounds perfect. So where do we go first?

- Could be… Honeydukes?

- Ugh, baby… - James groaned

- What?

- I’m a little tired of Honeydukes, to be honest.

- Why, not everyone gets to rob its basement every month, like you and the boys do!

- I never rob it! I always put money in the register! - James threw his hands in the air defensively - I even leave tips!

- Aren’t you my little goody two-shoes. - You pinched his pink cheeks playfully.

- Plus, I always bring you sweets!

- Yeah, yeah, alright… But I like going there! It’s pretty, and it always smells amazing there. - You smiled sheepishly and batted your lashes at James’ - Can we please, please go?

James stared at your theatrical request with an amused smirk.

- Alright… let’s go.

James held your hand and started following the flow of students heading towards the shop through the snowy streets.

- Thank you so much! - You kissed his cheek soundly.

- You are the most spoiled girl in Hogwarts, did you know that? - He elbowed your rib playfully.

- And who’s fault is that? - You giggled at him.

At Honeyduke’s, you and James made the rounds collecting all your personal favorites: liquorice wands, sugar quills, chocolate toads, and an obscene amount of cauldron cakes. When you both couldn’t find anything else in your baskets, you joined the line to pay.

- Feels weird to not get the sweets and just run? - You teased.

- You never complain when I bring you a dozen caldron cakes each time, do you? - James rolled his eyes at you while smiling.

- Hi, James!

You turned around to find Amos Diggory, captain of the Hufflepuff’s Quidditch team, standing behind you two. Despite James' competitiveness in the field, he always got along very well with Amos.

- Oh, hi, Amos! How are you? - James shook his hand amicably.

- I’m doing well. Taking Mrs Potter shopping, I see?

- Yeah - James smiled brightly while your face burned in a violent blush violent

Every time McGonagall scolded you and James for being laced, she graced you both with a nickname. Last week, she referred to the pair of you as “Mr and Mrs Potter”. Sirius instantly adopted the nickname, especially to tease James about being whipped. Somehow, other people heard of it and your friends started using it in a light-hearted manner. James found it all extremely funny, and even though it always made you shy, you secretly loved it.

- You know what they say, the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach.

They both chatted about the upcoming matches until you reached the register.

- That will be four galleons - Mrs Flume announced after checking your baskets.

James reached for his pocket, but you touched his hand to stop him.

- I will pay, today.

- And why should I let you do that?

- Cause I want to spoil you, too - You booped his nose.

When you reached for the little purse where you kept your money, however, your smile fell. You had forgotten to grab your money due to your distraction.

- I, um… I think I forgot to grab my purse - you admitted, embarrassed to let your inattentiveness show once again.

James simply smiled, and handed Mrs Flume the golden coins. She busied herself with putting your purchases in a box.

- I’ll pay that back to you.

- No, you won’t. I won’t take it.

- Yes, you will. I forgot, but I want to pay for it.

- Except you won’t, cause I want to pay this for you.

- You always pay for everything!

- And since when is that bad?

- Cause I wanna give you things, too!

- Trust me, you give me plenty - he smiled suggestively at you, earning a slap in his arm.

- James! You called me spoiled an hour ago!

- And you are.- He smirked - But I like spoiling you.

Exasperated, you threw your hands up in defeat.

- Ugh!

James grazed your cheek with his hand soothingly.

- C’mon, if I can’t use my money to spoil little Mrs. Potter, what am I supposed to do with it?

+ 1

You and James were near the lake, laying down under an orange tree, studying for exams. It was a sunny afternoon in which you both wanted nothing but to throw your books in your trunks and go do something outside. Since you really needed the study time, you two had to find a middle ground: studying in the garden, where you could at least enjoy the sweet summer breeze and the sunlight. You had been deeply concentrated in your books when a delicious whiff of the plump, sugary oranges above you had invaded your nostrils, making your mouth water. You were able to grab one from a lower branch, and now you were anxiously trying to peel it with a small knife.

- Hey, pretty girl - You were distracted from your task by James’ lips grazing the warm skin of your cheek - Want me to do that for you?

- Thank you, Jamie, but I can do it - You snickered at him, even if you never actually learned how to properly do it, and he knew that - I got it.

- Can I do it for you, please? - He smiled. You gave in, and gently removed the orange and the knife from your hands

You watched as he skillfully peeled the skin off the fruit. In no time he got the orange separated in two halves, handing you one happily. James leaned against the body of the tree, pushing you to sit back between his legs and lean into his chest. You both sat there, contently eating the sweet but slightly acidic fruit.

James does a lot of things for you. Way too many, perhaps. He didn’t let you peel an orange, for Christ’s sake! Does it bother him, feeling like he has to do things for you so you won’t mess it up?

- I know how to peel an orange. - You turned to face him - I really do.

- I know, doll.

- I can do it. Seriously.

James thought to himself for a moment.

- Have you ever heard the theory that a perfect couple is composed of one person who loves oranges, but sucks at peeling them, and another person who loves oranges, and is great at peeling?

- I know how to peel fruit! - You stated.

- Of course you do. You just suck at it. - He smirked at you, amusedly throwing another piece in his mouth.

You let out a sigh in frustration. Nervously, you turned to face him completely.

- James, listen… I don’t want… I don’t want you to think I’m useless.

James’ smile fell off his face.

- What? What are you talking about, sweetheart? - he worriedly reached for your hands - Why would I think you’re useless?

- Because… - You run your hands through your hair - Because you are always doing things for me. Tying my shoelaces, warming my hands because I’m an idiot and I forget my gloves, things like that and I just… I appreciate it but I don’t want you to do these things because you think I’m incapable.

You could see the engines turning in James’ head as he pondered. All of a sudden, he started laughing.

- You think I do that because I think you are incapable?

- Well, yes! - You lowered your head - I know I’m kinda distracted but I don’t want to be a burden or anything…

- Hey. - James used his index finger to lift your head, forcing you to look into his incisive, but soft gaze - You are never a burden. And that’s not why I do it, at all. I do these things because it’s my way of showing you I care for you. But I understand if it makes you feel lessened, and not loved, and I can find new ways to care for you, if that’s wh…

- No! - You exclaimed, stroking his cheek - I love it. And it does make me feel very loved. I’m just… silly. I guess I don’t want you to feel obliged to do things for me, that’s all.

- Baby. - James smiled and held your face between his warm, orange-scented palms. - When I tie your shoelaces, I know you can do it, obviously. But it makes me feel happy that I even get to do that for you, you understand? And it’s like that with everything else I do. I love taking care of you because I love you.

Your heart warmed at his words.

- So you don’t think I’m clumsy?

- Actually, I do - he smirked.

You slapped his arm and turned away from him.

- I’m sorry, I'm sorry - he reached for you again - You are… distracted. Almost as much as you are distracting. But I like it. Makes me feel like a knight in shining armor.

- I’m not distracted! - You narrowed your eyes at him.

- You are, doll - He soothed you amusingly - A little teeny bit.

- Oh, yeah? I would’ve peeled us this orange myself if you weren’t so… nosy!

James gasped in a dramatic manner.

- I’m nosy? - You shook your head yes in defiance - Yeah? Are you sure?

James threw himself at you to attack your sides with tickles, the most powerful weapon he has against you. You both rolled around in the blanket you had brought from your dorm while you laughed so hysterically you couldn’t breathe. James couldn’t help but laugh too, infected by your laughter.

- Stop! Stop! - you begged, tears rolling down your face.

- Only if you say I’m not nosy.

- You are not nosy! - You shouted, and James finally stopped the tickling.

You were laying underneath him, and when the laughter died down, James stayed on top of you, watching your flushed face with loving eyes. A sweet summer breeze passed you both, making your hair fly. He carefully placed the rebel strand behind your ear.

- Great. Now, say: “I love you, Jamie, my beautiful amazing perfect boyfriend and thank you for peeling every orange I’ll ever eat for the rest of my life”

- I’m not going to say that after you just attacked me! No way! - You laughed.

- Yeah? Then get ready for another tickling attack!

When he placed his hands back on your sides to resume the torture, you panicked.

- No! No! Fine! I love you, Jamie, my beautiful amazing perfect boyfriend and thank you for peeling every orange I'll ever eat for the rest of my life!

- Perfect - he kissed your lips delicately.

- That’s a lot of oranges, you know.

- What?

- Every orange I’ll eat for the rest of my life - You grinned, lifting your hands to trace his features with your finger - That’s a lot of oranges.

- I know - He gave you that full teeth smile, the one that made his dimples pop before kissing your palm - You love oranges.

- I do.

- At least you will never have to risk chopping your fingers off, since your amazing boyfriend will take care of it. - He explained playfully. - You can be clumsy safely.

You pouted at him angrily and crossed your arms.

- You don’t scare anyone with that face, missy - He snickered and lowered his head to kiss you again. - You are too adorable when you are angry.

James hummed happily against your mouth when the kiss deepened. He rolled you both around so you could straddle him.

- You taste so sweet - He breathed against your mouth.

- Like oranges, maybe?

- Yes, precisely.

- Like the ones you peel for me because I’m distracted? - You sneered softly.

- Yes, just like the ones I peel for you because I love you.

#james potter x reader #james potter #the marauders x reader #the marauders era #harry potter imagine #james potter imagine #james potter x you #james potter fluff #fluff #female reader #the marauders imagine

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months

Text

Magda's Princesse

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: A look back at your birth from Magda's perspective

Magda is already at the airport when she gets the call. She recognises the caller ID instantly and a smile appears on her face as she answers it.

"I'll be there soon," She says," I'm just about to get on the plane."

"You need to call Emma," Is what Pernille answers.

Magda's just about to get her ticket checked. She stops. "What?"

"You need to call Emma," Pernille repeats," And tell her that you'll be sitting the next few games out. You're busy."

Magda, for some reason, is feeling especially stupid because she just can't quite grasp what's being told to her. "But I'm not?"

"You are!" Pernille snaps before she lets out a groan of pain," Because I will be damned if I push your baby out and you run back to England a few days later."

Magda slumps into her seat in shock. "But...You can't be having her now! She's early!"

"By two days." Pernille sounds like she's gritting her teeth. "I'll send you the hospital address. I don't care how you do it but if you miss this, Magda, I will not be happy."

The line is dropped.

Magda is a tight ball of worry the entire flight. She's drunk two glasses of wine to ease her worries before cutting herself off in case she accidentally drinks herself into a coma before getting to the hospital.

She's one of the first off the plane and through border control. It takes half an hour to get her luggage and then another to find a taxi that will get her to the hospital.

Fischer is waiting outside for her, guiding Magda inside without little fanfare.

"She came to visit us at training," Magda's national teammate tells her," And then she went into labour."

"And the baby?"

"Fine so far," Fischer replies," Nothing to report."

Magda bursts into the room and attaches herself to Pernille. "Am I late?"

Pernille gives her a look. "Does it look like you're late?"

No, it certainly doesn't and Magda breathes a sigh of relief. "I think I scared Nilla. I left all my luggage with her."

"She's got spare keys," Pernille replies through deep, calming breaths as she works through another contraction," She can take your stuff to my place."

"Is it bad?" Magda asks sympathetically, letting Pernille squeeze her hand," The pain?"

"I've been told it will get worse," Pernille says," The nurse said I'm only five centimetres dilated. We could be here for a few more hours. Have you called Emma yet?"

Magda shakes her head. No, she hasn't. She was a bit preoccupied with making sure that she didn't miss the birth.

"We have time," Pernille says," Call her now and tell her."

●～●～●～●～

It's early in the morning when you make your appearance.

In solidarity, Magda does not go to sleep even though Pernille tells her to multiple times. She doesn't because if Pernille is suffering then it doesn't stand to reason that Magda gets to relax.

She's glad about it too because you come very early in the morning and if she was sleeping, Magda is ninety percent sure that Pernille wouldn't have been able to wake her up.

But you arrive with a lot of fanfare and even more screaming.

The doctor looks at you before turning around to get your weight from the nurses while Magda mops up Pernille's sweaty forehead and pulls her in for a gentle, loving kiss.

"You did it," She whispers," She's here."

Pernille, still exhausted, manages a smile. "She's here."

"For the mamas," The doctor says in stilted English.

He passes the bundle into Magda's arms.

You're finally quiet, swaddled securely in the baby blanket your parents had picked out for you weeks ago. You're staring up at her, with wide unblinking eyes. Your mouth is open and sucking on the air, rooting for milk already.

There are wisps of hair on your head and Magda gently unwraps you. You whine a little at the loss of warmth but quieten instantly when you are laid on Pernille's bare chest.

She looks down at you with a soft look. Her finger came up to stroke your cheek. You turn your head, lips searching for milk but catching her finger instead.

She coos at you as you suckle on her finger, eyes drooping shut.

Pernille looks up at Magda, who has her camera out and has already taken pictures she knows are going to be framed on the wall of her London home.

"She's here," Pernille says again with a watery smile.

"She is," Magda replies. She joins Pernille on the bed and gently strokes your little wisps of hair. "Look at her. We've done so well. She's so sweet."

"You make beautiful babies," Pernille says with a smile.

Magda laughs. "You can't say that to anyone. I've already gotten annoyed with the teasing about me knocking you up."

"Mm," Pernille laughs too," But you did knock me up. I've got the outcome right here."

Your eyes are open again, blinking to adjust to the light and your new outside surroundings. You suck more heavily on Pernille's finger.

"I think she needs a feed," Magda says.

●～●～●～●～

They're discharged from hospital the next day and Magda hovers incessantly when they take you back to Pernille's apartment.

Your nursery has been set up for weeks now, in anticipation when Magda had last visited and raided the local IKEA, building everything herself.

You're dressed up snugly in a bunny onesie, your feet kicking as your finally placed in your crib - which had been immediately moved into Pernille's room when it became clear that neither she nor Magda wanted to be separated from you.

"Hi, princesse," Magda coos.

You kick your legs again.

"You're so pretty, yes you are."

You're kicking becomes more repetitive as you stick your fist in your mouth.

"Look at those legs go. You're going to be such a good addition to Sweden when you're older."

"You mean Denmark," Pernille rasps. She rubs her eyes, having just taken a quick power nap. "I'm not raising my daughter to wear a Sweden jersey."

Magda rolls her eyes playfully. This conversation had been happening ever since they found out Pernille was pregnant. "We'll see."

Pernille picks you up gently, supporting your head before guiding Magda to the rocking chair, slowly placing you in her arms.

Magda leans down to kiss your head and breathe in your unique newborn smell. She smiles. You stare up at her.

A camera sounds and Magda doesn't even have to look up to know Pernille is grinning.

"That's getting framed," Pernille says," I think I'll put it on my bedside table. So I can remember this moment with you and the princesse."

"We need to give her a name soon," Magda says as Pernille crouches by the rocking chair and pulls the onesie's hood up onto your head, making it look like you have floppy bunny ears. "We can't keep calling her the princesse."

"Mmm." Pernille's finger strokes over your cheek. "I know it wasn't on the list but I like y/n."

"y/n," Magda repeats," Is that your name? Are you a y/n?"

You kick your legs out, catching Magda in the ribs.

"That's a pretty powerful strike, princesse. I think she's giving us her approval."

Pernille's eyes are so full of love that Magda almost bursts into tears. "I think so too. y/n Harder-Eriksson."

"y/n Eriksson-Harder."

"We've got another day before the trip to the embassies. We'll argue about her last name later," Pernille says," What matters right now is princesse has a name now."

"It's a very pretty name."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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ohtobeleah · 2 months

Text

Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin

Chapter One: [Mermaids Don’t Exist]

Summary: Jake continues to plays your knight in shining armour when tensions rise between you and an overly intoxicated patron. Bob brings up a mutual memory.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!reader. Witness Protection F!reader. Sexually degrading comments made towards reader. Sexual tension, trauma. Mentions of death & violence.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Still not writing as much as I once was but I’m getting back into the swing of things. Any comments, thoughts or concepts are welcome!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dreams mainly occur when the body falls into a stage of sleep referred to as R.E.M. Rapid eye movement occurs when the brain and body are finally able to completely rest. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that when your body is able to rest, it allows you to do so.

“We’ll find you, Y/n!”

Nightmares are typically thought to be an evolutionary conserved trait. Some researchers believe that nightmares provide a rehearsal for life-or-death situations. Before you lived one? You would have said something along the lines of ‘that checks out.’

“No no no no please, Patrick, stay with me—“

Some researchers believe nightmares to be a practical experience for many people as it allows the brain to run through multiple different algorithms to find the most desirable strategies, and solutions to often critical and complex situations.

From a procedural standpoint, simply imagining doing an action can improve your performance.

“I love you—take Charlie.”

This applies when we simply imagine doing an action such as playing the piano or running for your life after being run off the road, it activates something called a mirror neuron.

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here, girly.”

In theory, the more nightmares you have, the more of those algorithms your brain is able to run, and the more prepared you’re likely to be for the daily struggle of survival.

But evolution herself is seen by the scientific community more so as a tinkerer than as an inventor.

“Oh god—please, not my baby, please! Someone! Help us!”

So, that’s probably why you have the same nightmare over and over and over again every single night.

Every morning you wake in the same way, with your face pressed into your pillow and your chest sinking into your mattress. Secretly, every morning you wished that your pillow would have suffocated you in your sleep so that today would forever be unobtainable. But you couldn’t do that, no. Not when the only way to bring a sense of worth to your life was to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

With a groan and a look that spoke volumes to your lack of self-esteem, you rolled onto your back and let out a heavy sigh. Your hands were quick to shield your eyes from the mid-afternoon rays beaming into your bedroom via the slightly cracked windows.

“Your name is Y/n Y/l/n, you are doing the right thing.”

Guilt and grief aren’t linear emotions. They don’t have a perception of how much time has passed. Realistically it had been three years, six months, and two days since your entire world had been flipped upside down. But every morning, after seeing your husband bleeding to death as he sat pressed against the steering wheel, and having held your five-year-old son in your arms while he took his last breath, the wound was reopened.

And the clock always resets.

“Ah, there she is.” You couldn’t help but hang your head in shame almost. Penny’s glare from behind the bar was as piercing and sharp as it was endearing and playful. Like a woman who took no shit from no one. “You know, you’d think management would be here on time more frequently than whatever the hell this is.” All you could do was take the semi-serious scattering from the owner of the bar you’d been lucky enough to be set up with a pretty good gig at. “Get over here and give me a hand will ya?”

“Sorry, Penny—” There wasn’t much more you could say to justify yourself. You woke up late, got ready slowly, and got lost in the steam of your mid-afternoon shower as you fought off the existential dread that was your current situation. “Flat tyre,” You shrugged like it wasn’t that big of a deal that you were currently twenty-three minutes late for your shift, “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah well, you can start by clearing off the table by the piano,” Penny smiled as she nudged her head in the direction of the unruly table of patrons that had surely had far too much to drink. “Think Rick’s had a little more than his liver would care to admit.”

“Yeah righto,” you sighed as you came behind the bar, doing up your apron as you looked around at the utter mess that had become the place. “I’ll sort him out.”

North Island wasn’t somewhere you ever saw yourself living, but that was the real kicker in all of this. You didn’t mind the picturesque town with clear blue skies and water that mirrored it. But being the outsider, being the new resident, being the Hard Deck’s newest manager was all some of these people saw you as. Six months in a small Naval town was barely a dint in the years some of these families had been living here.

“Aw hello, Brewer!” Rick Spencer, the resident rioter, cooed as he beamed your way. For someone in their mid-sixties, he surely went alright. “What brings you in on this fine Saturday afternoon?”

Typical - If you could have, you would have rolled your eyes so far into the back of your head you would have fallen over. Instead, you chose to smile and settle into the nightlife festivities with a can-do attitude and a rather cheeky smile.

“Came to check on you, Spence? How’s everything over here boys?” It wasn’t uncommon for you to entertain the banter most of the patrons would give you. Most of the locals had caught on quickly that you enjoyed a good laugh every now and again but also knew how to handle your own.

But there's always one in every group, isn’t there?

“Would be a hell of a lot better if the barmaid was a little more topless! Right boys!?” A man you hadn’t seen before interrupted before a roar of ‘yeahs’ and agreements were made. Fists and beer bottles along with spirits alike slammed against the tabletop. “Come on girly—” The man continued as you stood there holding the empty bar tray, ready and waiting to collect the empties that littered the table. “Get your kit off.”

“I don’t think so, boys,” You politely declined the offer of public indecency. “Perhaps in another lifetime.”

“Sorry about him, Brewer,” Rick explained as he shook his head and stood from his seat at the booth. “My nephew’s here for a few days.”

“Yeah well, so long as he remembers I run the joint and can have him tossed any time,” You replied sternly. “Keep him in line, Rick.”

“Oh come on now, sweetheart, I was only joking!” The man you only knew as the nephew chuckled as he overheard your comment. “It’s slim pickings around here anyway, you just look like the best of a bad bunch is all.”

“Hey!” That voice, that far too familiar voice echoed through the crowd. “You speak to her, or any woman for that matter, like that again? So help me god I’ll punch your teeth right through the back of your skull.” Jake snarled as he came to stand in front of you with his back nearly pressed right into your chest. “Got it!?” The close proximity, the overwhelming aroma of the familiar cologne, and the notes of burnt orange and bourbon made your heart warm. It all had your heart beating against your chest with a force so intense you thought it might break through.

“Yeah right,” the man only known as the nephew agreed. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’ll get on the waters for a while.”

“That and a pretty big tip should call us even,” you added with envy conviction laced in your voice that you even had yourself fooled that everything was alright. “Let me just grab these empties for you fellas.”

You didn’t mess around with it, you simply let the group fall back into their regular chatter as you filled your tray.

Jake stood with crossed arms a little off to the side, eyeing off all the men who sat idly. Fucking pricks.

“Been here all of five fucking minutes—” Jake could sense your frustration as you turned into him. At first, he didn’t move, he simply stood there drinking you in as you held the now full tray of dirty glassware.

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” was all you said.

With wandering eyes, Jake didn’t miss a single inch of you.

“I know,” Jake smiled softly as he reached around to lead you back to the bar for a moment to decompress. His hand gently fell to the small of your back as you walked side by side, “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but just because you’re capable? Doesn’t mean you have to go it alone.”

Alone, that’s all you’d ever been for the last three years.

“Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right,” the sigh that left your body allowed your shoulders to relax as you placed the tray onto the bar and slid it over for Penny to take. “Thanks, Jake, I owe you one.”

Jake Seresin had never been the kind of guy who saw himself settling down. But when he first saw you, that thought hadn’t left his mind.

“Name a time and place,” Jake teased as he sent you a wink. It didn’t take Jake long to find himself at home up by the bar, perched on one of the bar stools as he entertained his favourite bartender. “I’ve always wondered what our first date would be like.”

“Do I look like I came down in the last shower, Seresin?” You knew Jake had a thing for you, it wasn’t all that hard to put together. But it could never work, not in a million years. Not when you were playing pretend on a professional basis.

“What’s that even mean?” Jake asked as he leaned his elbows on top of the bar, grinning ear to ear as he pressed your buttons more.

“It means—“ You cooed as you leaned into his space, making it known that the flirting was welcome, but the end goal wasn’t in sight. “I know you’re just trying to get in my pants.”

“Pretty good-looking set of pants if I do say so myself,” Jake teased as his eyes trailed down the expanse of your body, then back up. Those emerald cities of his were full of complex wonder and undoubtable loyalty. Something you could never give back. “But despite the fact I think you’re pants would look a hell of a lot better in a pile on my bedroom floor, I’m not just doing any of this for a chance to, well, you know what I mean.”

You did know what Jake meant, and for all intents and purposes you could admit to yourself that it sounded very tempting. But you knew what the repercussions would be.

“Jake, that’s all very sweet of you,” you felt as if you had this very conversation every week. The gentle let down. The kind-ish conversation where you reminded the overly-confident and somewhat self-assured Aviator that you weren’t looking for love or lust, or anything. Besides, there were already too many people looking for you. “But you know, as much as I think you’re a good guy and friend, I’m not interested.”

Jake stood silently before you, drinking in all that was you. From the lines etched into your forehead to the small scar that ran through your left eyebrow. He wasn’t listening, there was just something about you. Something so intriguing that he couldn’t stop trying to win you over. He couldn’t stop trying to get you to give him just one chance. One chance was all Jake wanted to convince you he wasn’t everything he knew people had told you he was.

“What would you say if I asked you to–” Before Jake had a chance to finish his question, the echoing sound of a glass shattering into smitherings against the wooden flooring, interrupted his train of thought.

“OOOIII– TAXI!” It was almost as if all the patrons, besides Jake that was, had all congealed into one as they yelled shouted and cheered towards the man who had dropped his glass. With a heavy sigh and a quick roll of the eyes, you knew you would be the one who ultimately had to clear the mess.

“I should probably get back to work.” The silence that came from Jake was deafening as you pulled away from where you had been standing far too close to a man you thought you didn’t want. A man you couldn’t have even if deep down you really wanted. Life was unfair like that. You couldn’t have anything you wanted, anything you loved. Anything that made you happy in the smallest of ways.

“There’s really no chance of getting you to agree to just one date, is there Brewer?” Jake watched as you made your over to where you kept the cleaning supplies in a small section behind the bar.

“If you already know that then why do you constantly make such an effort?” It was the look on your face that told Jake everything he needed to know. There was no chance in hell he was ever getting that date.

But Jake Seresin never gave up without a fight, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to now.

“Because you gentled me, Brewer,” Jake Seresin had never been the type of person who wanted to settle down. He was always so content with the relations he chose to have and the way he chose to have them. Short simple quick flings. Girlfriends who lasted no longer than a year and one-night stands he’d promise to call but never got their numbers. But then there was you. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Please don’t put that on my shoulders, Jake,” You weren't sure how to respond to that, how to process that kind of admission. “Just lay off the heroics for a while alright? I don’t want people getting the wrong impression.”

“That impression would be?” Jake questioned like you’d just insulted his very being. That it would be a crime to love him.

“Jake, I have a job to do alright,” It wasn’t that you were angry or upset that Jake cared for and about you. It was more frustration on your part for not being able to act on your own feelings towards him. It had been three years since your husband died. Three years since you felt the loving embrace of another human being. That alone was enough to frustrate anyone. “Please, just–just, I need to get back to work.”

The thing about nightmares is that they often don’t stick to their own parameters. Sometimes, you end up living a nightmare more often than you dream one. Right now? As Jake looked at you like you’d just shot him through the heart, you knew you were wide awake. Living a nightmare that continued to punish only the good.

“You’re untouchable,” Jake sighed to himself softly as he shook his head in defeat. “The untouchable woman who won’t let anyone in, you’re too proud or something aren’t you?”

“It’s just–” All you wanted to do was explain yourself, pull Jake aside and let him in on why you couldn’t allow him to love you the way you wanted him to. But no words came out as you stood there holding the old dustpan by your side.

With every blink, you saw flashes of Patrick. The love you lost too soon, too suddenly. He made sure to haunt your dreams to keep you safe. For a brief second of all-consuming anguish, you saw him too. Standing right behind Jake, warning you not to. “I need to get back to work, I’m sorry.”

“Right,” Jake clenched his jaw when he felt the word vomit about to spew from his lips. He wasn’t mad, rejection just wasn’t something he was familiar with. “When you get a chance, put a Budweiser on Bradshaw’s tab.” Jake pressed his lips together into a fine line of regret, instantly kicking himself for pushing. He knew he shouldn’t have, but the chase was as addicting as it was thrilling. With a simple knock of his knuckles on the bar before, he turned on his heels. Leaving you to stand there in your own self-loathing.

Your heart sank as you watched Jake shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans with a head that hung so low you almost wondered if his neck would be sore. Guilt, shame, it all felt the same. But you couldn’t let Jake in, you couldn’t allow him into your life more than what you’d given him over the last six months.

You’d tangled yourself in barbed wire so you couldn’t be reached by anyone. Unknowingly bleeding when as it digs into you more and more. You would think the touch of skin on yours wouldn’t be so terrifying, but you’d been bruised before. You couldn’t allow Jake to fall into your web of lies that kept you safe from harm’s way. If hurting him was the only way to keep him safe, you’d hurt him twice over every single day.

Perhaps it would be safer to stay the untouchable woman.

***~***~***~***~***~****

As a child, there was magic in the mundane. You often found yourself missing the mermaids among the koi in the pond, their glittering scales reminiscent of a childhood fairytale. Summer mornings you’d make bouquets out of the same flowers adults would now mow away while wrinkling their noses at the weeds.

You often wondered to yourself when the awe of the day-to-day faded away and when you stopped believing in your ability to see mermaids in the momentous world around you.

“Another round fellas?” You tried not to think too much about the way Jake’s eyes burned into you like a fiery sunbeam as you stood behind Rooster. “Same old same old? The usual orders of Bradshaw’s table?” The squad, affectionately known as the Daggers erupted into laughter all the while Rooster remained silent and brooding.

“You are all bleeding my dry,” Bradley sighed as you made the rounds and collected all the empties onto your bar tray. “Seriously, I know you aren’t all working for free, cough up.”

“You could– just apologise for being a Neanderthal and I’ll close it out?” Your statement left a bad taste in Rooster’s mouth, he wasn’t one for apologising for things he didn’t think he’d done wrong.

“I could,” the brooding moustache-having man replied. “But it’d be an empty lie.” There was something about Bradley Bradshaw that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention. He wasn’t necessarily a bad person, he was–an only child. He probably never imagined mermaids among the koi.

“Appreciate the honesty there, Bradshaw,” you chuckled deeply as you finished you collecting all the empty glasses and beer bottles. “Guess the next rounds on you.”

“Here here,” Coyote chimed in with a Cheshire Cat grin. “All in a hard day’s work there Rooster, you always know how to piss off the barkeep.”

“Works out in our favour,” Bob smiled as he passed you two empty glasses. “I don’t think I’ve paid for a drink of my own in a few weeks now.”

“No, you just keep trying to convince everyone Brewer here was your first kiss,” Phoenix smirked as she finished off her beer.

All the air inside your lungs felt like they had been sucked right out. The chills that ran down the expanse of your spine made your blood run cold. You stood tall with your now full tray of old beer bottles and empty glasses and sent a polite smile Bob’s way.

“You still riding that wave?”

“You just really look like Y/n from Nurellun Public,” Bob countered with an almost pleading tone. “She was my first kiss by the sandpit and I remember she had a little yellow dot in her right eye.”

“Brewer has a yellow dot in her right eye,” Jake decided to enter the conversation from his place in the corner of the booth. “Tell you what Floyd, you must have been one shocking kisser if you got Brewer here to change her damn name.” The table erupted into a loud boisterous laugh as the Weapons System Officer sunk a little lower into his seat.

You felt for Bob, being the butt of the joke was never a good feeling. But when your case officer relocated you to North Island, he didn’t bank on one of its locals being your first snog. You hated gaslighting the guy, but you had no other choice. Bob Floyd had to stay in the era of Meridamis and weed bouquets.

“Like I told you last time Bob, you’ve got the wrong girl,” It was as nonchalant as it was dismissive. “My first kiss was with Johnny Bennett out at some random guys shed.” You had gotten used to lying about your life and who you were. At the very beginning it was almost impossible, but three years on? You’d gotten pretty good at playing pretend.

Only you wished it could be with the mermaids in their fairytales. But much like all those mermaids and all those fairytale stories……you didn’t exist. Much like Johnny Bennett.

***~***~***~***~***~

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#secret sacrifices // jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #top gun hangman #top gun fandom #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction

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thedirtybeanlife · 8 months

Note

I’m obsessed with your page. The ghosts native speak reader is my fav!! if you are taking requests, could I please request Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader.

Simon and the rest of 141 are at the air port, finically off missions and are on a short leave. The guys are all waiting for their cars and family and as they wait , someone yells “Simon” and they reunite in front of the group??

can reader please be small than ghost? Like he’s 6’4 and she’s 5’4? THANK YOU LOVE YOUR PAGE

(thank you so much!!! i absolutely love this idea! i hope i covered everything you wanted 💕)

Family Reunion

(Simon Riley x Wife!Reader x Platonic!TF141)

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: none! just pure fluff <3

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It had been three months since you had last seen your husband, Simon. Three excruciatingly long months of only the occasional three worded texts or five minute phone calls when he was able to get in contact safely. You knew his job was important, and that it was his passion, but the gnawing ache of loneliness residing deep in your heart grew with each passing day. Was he okay? Would he be home early? Late? Would he even come home at all? Anxiety made your stomach flip with unease everyday for months until you got the text you had been tossing and turning over.

‘Coming home, Love. Pick me up at the airport at 1800 tomorrow? Missed you dearly, gorgeous xx’

Your heart flutters in your chest as you read the text, mind racing as you think of the many ways you could welcome him home. Maybe a nice home cooked meal, or maybe a massage. He did always come home with tense, sore muscles. You smile softly at your phone as the light emitting from it shines across your tired face, the dark room making the light burn your eyes slightly, but you don't care. Texting him back was more important.

‘i'll be there at 4:00 <3 and i missed you more, handsome.’

You hit send and stare at the phone, immediately seeing the small chat bubble popping up above the keyboard. You patiently await his response, biting your lip with a smile, feeling lovesick at just the thought of him returning. You could already see him standing tall above the rest of the passerby in the airport, dark clothes adorning his body, rugged hair, and tired, but giddy, brown eyes.

‘I highly doubt that, Darling. Get some sleep. It’s late. xx’

You laugh and roll your eyes as you read the message. You look at the time on the top corner of your phone and see it is indeed quite late. A little past midnight, to be exact. You type out a reply and hit send.

‘roger that lieutenant 🫡’

‘At ease, Soldier. I love you Baby xx’

‘i love you too Si <3’

You lock your phone and stand up, shut off the lights in the house and lock the front and back doors. Walking upstairs to Simon and your’s shared bedroom, you yawn tiredly, glad that Simon had reminded you of sleep being a necessity. Your fingers switch the light off in the room and you plop onto the large king sized bed. Upon plugging your phone in, it buzzes and you see another message from him.

‘Sleep well, Love.’

You use the love reaction to respond to his message before closing your phone once more for the night, laying down comfortably on Simon’s side of the bed and snuggling up under the thick comforter. Within minutes your sleeping like a baby, snoring softly with limbs sprawled across the bed. You sleep peacefully knowing that Simon is safe and will be in your arms incredibly soon.

The loud sound of your alarm buzzing wakes you in the morning at eight, the sun casting a bright light over the bed room causing you to groan and roll over to hide your face as you blindly reach out to turn off the alarm, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep. Until you realize why you were waking up so early in the first place.

“Simon..” you mutter with a tired smile as the image of your husband floods your mind. You dart up and take a long, hot shower, shaving and thoroughly washing every part of your body. Practically waltzing into the bedroom, you stand in front of your closet and look through your options before your eyes land on Simon’s favorite dress. It was something he had bought you a few years ago when he took you shopping. The dress was white with small baby blue flowers sprinkled all over it. it was rather short, falling at the middle of your thighs, the neckline plunging ever so slightly to show off the smallest amount of cleavage. He had spotted it in the window of a store you had passed one day while shopping and he immediately dragged you in so you could try it on.

After putting the dress on, you do your hair and put on a light layer of makeup, nothing too fancy. You add some jewelry and put on a pair of sandals to complete the look. With a smile as you look at yourself in the mirror, you walk downstairs and look around the house, giving it a once over to make sure it feels warm and welcoming for his return. Nodding in approval, you put a few wax melts that Simon likes in the various wax melters in the house and turn them on. Once that's done you look at the time and see you still have a few hours until you need to leave, so you decide to bake him some of his favorite dessert as a welcome home present; lemon rolls. You had made them one day after discovering the recipe, and he had become infatuated with them. He had eaten three of them in one sitting.

Quickly getting to work, you manage to put them together in record time, throwing them into the oven and waiting the thirty minutes for them to cook. You pull them out and let them rest on the counter. With only about twenty minutes left until you have to leave, you turn off all the lights and grab your keys, wallet, and the cute bag that matches your dress, rushing out the door from excitement. Upon entering the car, as if Simon somehow knew, you get a text from him.

‘Boarding the plane now, Lovely. See you soon xx’

‘see you soon Si <3’

You reply and then start the car, pulling out of the drive way and starting the drive to the airport he'll be landing at with the rest of his team. It had been quite some time since you've seen the rest of the team. Music plays on the radio as you drive down the highway as you enjoy the sights of the Autumn leaves and colors. Thankfully it wasn't rainy today as the drive to the airport was quite long and to get to the highway required driving on a lot of slick backroads. Simon had chosen a house deep in the woods, yet not too far from civilization. He said it was for protection, but you knew he just liked the wilderness more than people. You didn't mind, it tended to be quite peaceful.

At roughly three o'clock, you pull into the airport’s parking garage, driving around to find a parking spot. Once you find one, you shut off the car and walk towards the entrance of the large building, making your way to the gate where he would be arriving from alongside Johnny, Gaz, and John. The loud chatter and rolling of suitcases fills your ears as you walk through the large building. You finally get to the gate and check the time, seeing that his plane will be landing in ten minutes. That familiar giddy feeling fills your heart and stomach as you sit in one of the chairs, bouncing your leg slightly as you struggle to contain your excitement. The minutes tick by slowly, almost feeling slower than the past three months.

Suddenly the sound of people walking out of the gate flood your ears, and shortly after you hear the loud laugh of Johnny, followed by a deep chuckle of Simon. You hop up out of the chair and weave through the crowd of people, muttering ‘excuse me’ every few seconds before you barrel towards the tall man.

“Simon!” you squeal excitedly, jumping into his arms the second he notices you, his strong arms wrapping around your much smaller body tightly as he lets out a small grunt from the sudden weight, stepping back some to keep his balance. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bury your face into it. His calloused thumbs rub circles into your bare thighs. Johnny and Gaz laugh as John stands behind them and smiles warmly at the sight.

“Oh, Love, how I’ve missed you…” he mutters as he places a soft kiss to the crown of your head, holding you close as you nuzzle into him.

“Missed you too, Si,” you mutter against his warm skin, smiling happily.

“Where’s my hug, lass?” Johnny asks playfully.

“Up your ass, Johnny.” you laugh and hop off Ghost, placing a kiss to his lips before walking over to Johnny and pulling him into a hug.

“It’s been to long, Y/N,” he says as you hug him tightly.

“It truly has. You’ll have to come by and have dinner with us before you leave,” you offer with a warm smile as you pull away, moving to hug Gaz and fix his cap on his head, “That goes for all three of you,”

Simon huffs out a small laugh at your offer as you wrap John in a hug as well before pulling away and practically prancing back to Simon, hanging onto his side. He instinctively wraps his arm around you protectively and lovingly.

“If that's what you want, Sweetheart. I guess I can deal with these lot for a few more hours,” he smiles softly down at you, knowing you thought of his teammates just as much as family as he did.

You smile up at him appreciatively as you keep your arms wrapped around his torso, savoring his warmth and the faint smell of gun powder and cigarette smoke; the small hint of cologne he always wore.

“That sounds lovely, Dear,” Price says respectfully, nodding with his usual smile that makes his eyes crinkle.

“I’d love some dinner, especially if it's made by you,” Kyle says playfully as he looks between you and Simon.

“It’s settled then. Why don't you guys grab your things and we can all carpool back, and no, Johnny, you do not get to play the music,” you laugh out jokingly.

Soap gives you a fake offended look and flicks you playfully on the shoulder as he walks by, carrying his duffle bag in his hand. Simon chuckles and flicks Johnny in retaliation for you, making him grumble under his breath as he walks off towards the doors, the rest of us following behind him laughing at his behavior. The walk to the parking garage is full of lighthearted jokes and conversations, you and Simon mainly listening as we walk a few paces behind the other three, hands swinging between your bodies. Occasionally, you’ll both glance at each other with a loving gaze, just happy to be able to hold each other again.

About an hour later, you pull into the drive way of the cute, quaint wooden house that you and Simon reside in. The fall colors and rainy weather make it look even prettier than it usually is. The five of you pile out of the car and walk down the short pebble driveway until you reach the front door. Simon unlocks it and holds the door open for you, walking in behind you, the other three following right after. The smell of amber and linen spreads across the house from the wax you had put on the warmers earlier. Everyone takes their wet shoes off and places them semi-neatly next to the door. Price hangs his hat on the hook by the door, Gaz sticking his in his back pocket, the brim poking out.

“Make yourselves at home. I bought some bourbon the other day you guys are more than welcome to break open. I’ll get to work on dinner. Relax. You guys deserve it,” you say sweetly, placing a kiss to Simon’s lips before walking into the kitchen.

You look at the lemon rolls on the counter, covering them completely with the towel so it doesn't give away the surprise, and gather everything i need for dinner. You decide on making a roast, green beans, mashed potatoes, dinner rolls, and brown gravy. You hum quietly to yourself as you start to prep everything. The roast had already been seasoned from the night before, marinating in the spices, dough for the rolls already sitting in the fridge as well.

As you're washing the potatoes, large, strong arms wrap around your waist and soft kisses are planted along your jaw, “Need any help, Love?” Simon asks quietly, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking along the fabric of your dress as he rests his chin on your head, “Ya look lovely, by the way. Wear this just for me?” he teases with a grin that you can feel as his lips are pressed against your skin.

You sigh softly and contently in his grip, eyes closing for a few moments as your hands rest on the cutting board, vegetable peeler and potato long forgotten as his body heat and touch floods you senses.

“I got it, Honey. You just go in there and relax. Keep our guests entertained, and of course I wore it just for you. Figured you'd appreciate it,” you giggle softly as you lean your head back against his broad shoulder to look up at him.

“Well, you were definitely right about that,” he says with a small laugh before leaning down and placing a kiss to your lips and then the tip of your nose, “I love you, Y/N. So much,” he mutters as he stares into your eyes adoringly.

“I love you too, Simon,” you say softly and place a kiss to his jaw, “Now shoo! I have five people to feed,” you playfully wave him away making him laugh and place one last kiss to your lips before he leaves the kitchen to go sit with the rest of the guys in the living room.

A few hours later, dinner is eaten, lemon rolls half gone, and the kitchen is a mess, something you two would deal with in the morning. You give all of the guys leftovers in containers that will last them a few days, knowing they probably wouldn't get another home cooked meal for a while. You and Simon walk them to the door where an Uber is waiting to take them to the nearby hotel they'll be staying at until seperate flights to their respective homes fly out tomorrow.

“It was lovely seeing you again, Captain,” you say as you hug John and hand him his hat.

“You too, Love. Simon surely hit the jackpot with you, Kiddo,” the older man laughs and gratefully accepts his hat as you hand it to him.

“Call me sometime, yeah? You still need to tell me about your feelings on that movie I made you watch,” you laugh out towards Gaz as you hug him next.

“For sure, Y/N. It’ll be one of the first things I do when I get back home,” he smiles and nods as he ruffles your hair some, much like an annoying brother would do.

“Bring it in, Lassie!” Soap grins and laughs as he pulls me into a tight hug, picking me off the ground some making me laugh and hug him back, “Oh, I’m gonna miss ye, Sweetheart. No fair that the Lt. gets to keep ya to himself,” Johnny jokes as he puts me down and let's go. You can hear Simon groan in annoyance quietly behind you.

“I’ll miss you too Johnny. Don't be a stranger, yeah? My phones always on,” you say softly as you move to stand next to Simon again, leaning against him as they all say bye to him before getting into the Uber. You both watch as it drives off before walking into the warm house, a stark contrast to the cold and rainy night air.

“That was nice. Haven't seen them in nearly a year,” you say as you turn off the front porch light and lock the front door.

“Feels like I haven't seen you for a year, Love. C'mere,” Simon says warmly and holds his arms open. You walk over to him and hug him tightly as he lifts you off the ground, a small giggle leaving your lips as he haoists you up and makes you wrap your legs around him, just like he did earlier at the airport, “Missed you too much to bear,” he mumbles into your hair before placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Missed you too. So much, Si. Just glad you're here, home and safe,” you whisper lovingly as you nuzzle into him.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?” he asks softly, stroking your hair with one of his hands as he starts walking through the living room to the staircase. You hum in agreement and tighten your grip slightly around his neck as he walks up the stairs, still holding you in his arms.

He pushes open the door and turns on the bedroom light, walking over to the bed, and gently placing you down, “Let’s get you out of this and get you into something a bit more comfortable, Dove.” he says and slowly trails his large calloused fingers up your exposed legs, grabbing the hem of the dress and pulling it over your hips as you lift them slightly to help him. He pulls it up and over your head, leaning down to place a kiss to your shoulder before throwing the dress in the hamper and grabbing one of his hoodies out of the dresser. He walks back over and slides the large navy blue fabric over your head, helping you pull your arms through before bending down to take off your sandals. Wordlessly, he walks into the bathroom, emerging a few seconds later with a few cotton rounds and your micellar water. Simon’s rough fingers wet the cotton round and softly rub it onto your skin, wiping off the light layer of makeup on your face.

Instinctively, your eyes flutter closed as he brings the cotton round up to wipe off your mascara, his touch so soft you barely feel it, “ There’s my pretty girl,” he whispers as he removes all of your makeup and gently caresses your face with his thumb, “Gorgeous,” he praises, making you smile softly up at him.

“Lay down and get comfortable, Love. I’ll just be a moment. Want to get out of these clothes,” you nod at his gentle command and get under the comforter on your side of the bed, laying down and getting comfortable. You watch him change out of his jeans and long sleeve shirt, his toned torso and arms littered in white and light pink scars, an occasional bruise on his pale skin.

“Anything need to be looked at or cleaned?” you ask softly as you inspect his body from the bed.

“I’m alright, Babygirl. Nothing but bruises this time ‘round,” he reassures you as he pulls on a pair of black sweatpants and turns off the light, walking over to the bed and laying next to you. His large arms pull your body flush agaisnt his, placing a kiss to your ear.

“Been thinkin’ about doin’ this since the day I left,” he mumbles tiredly in your ear, taking a deep breath as he relaxes fully for the first time in months.

“Me too,” you say softly and nuzzle your head into his chest, placing a kiss to one of his older, larger scars, “Get some sleep, Si. You need it,” you whisper as you wrap your arms around him.

He hums in response and in just a few minutes he's snoring softly in your ear, something you had always found a bit bothersome, but in this moment, it was all you had wanted. Shortly after, your eyes flutter closed, and your lulled to sleep by his slow breathing and the comfort of his heart beating in your ear.

#xreader #fanfiction #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #fanfic #mw2022 #oneshot #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 #john price #kyle garrick #john soap mactavish

994 notes · View notes

softshuji · 7 months

Text

𝟎𝟔:𝟏𝟏𝐀𝐌 | 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔

Title: Smile for me

Summary: Rindou knows he's not getting any younger, but old insecurities are hard to fight- luckily for him, you're there to kiss them better. Link for masterlist here!

cw: afab!reader, talks of insecurities, pet names (kitten, princess), Ran being a stellar big brother, Rindou getting embarrassed easily and being a simp lol, some brief kissing and mentions of sex (nothing explicit), he's literally so cute and sexy I can't stand it. Reblogs appreciated!

Rindou is perturbed.

He’s used to waking an hour before you, 7AM with the sun still making a haphazard climb over the windowsill, all the weak and watery light he watches fall over the crest of your sloping shoulder from behind, his cheek pressed to your hair. He hopes you don’t notice, the alarm of his phone buzzing and snoozed, five minutes he thinks he can spare to spend here, you unaware of how his arms tighten around you, the shaky breath that comes from his dry lips and all the love he never mentions that he wishes was easier to talk about to you.

You stir, slide a hand along his muscled forearm, the slight frown of your scrunched eyebrows loosening, a breath blown between parted lips and you settle again into sleep as Rindou untangles your legs from under the warm covers.

He hates it, this moment right here. It’s a visceral lump that sits in his throat when he pulls the covers back over you, slides your hair to the side to kiss just under your ear, your cheek, a finger that comes up to touch at you, a stray eyelash he pretends he’s lifting, because it’s easier when you can’t see.

‘Mhm Rin,’ you murmur and stir, turning over to reach to where he should be, the indent of him in the memory foam where you hope your hand can feel the smooth muscle of him, soft hair and warm breath, the ridges of his shoulders where your arms want to come around.

He watches you, bashfully, hiding a smile and embarrassed somehow, this many years later, knowing all there is to know about you, the wounds you’ve cleaned that even Ran hasn’t seen, the fights and arguments that led to the two of you walking out, coming back, kissing and apologies you’d never doubted were just there, days that started out tense and ended with the two of you with your foreheads pressed together.

He hates shutting the door on you like that, sprawled on your stomach, holding the duvet close to your chest, your face turned towards the sun that slips in through the slat in the window, a gentle breeze that pushes the curtains inwards, the peace he is leaving behind that he’s never sure he’ll live to see again.

When he pads to the bathroom, unceremoniously in fact, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, the tufts of his hair sticking up one side, tired eyes lined with shadows that drag down his skin, it is knowing that fact, that it could be the last time, that he’s not lucky enough to maintain what he loves and needs so much in any way that doesn’t mean pain.

He does need you, and he’d spent so long denying that fact, the cold and dark nights made warmer by drinks and drugs and parties that never really meant anything outside of those singular moments in time, when his mind is just so far away from the bottle or the glass or lines on the flat tables.

You like this routine of his though. Coffee made for you that sits in the pot till you wake, despite his absence, warm towels pulled from the dryer, leftover dishes washed and dried, the diligence he hopes is able to communicate what he can’t, a kiss left lingering on your lips, a “see you later kitten” that never feels sufficient enough when he leaves and his car backs out of the driveway. He stops every morning before driving off, a last look at the house, at the window where the blinds sway in the breeze, a secret pang in his heart when he remembers he’s left his heart in your palm.

But something else is on his mind right now and it bothers him with a lance of sharp pain when he sees the crease along his cheek that he swears is a little too new for his liking.

He runs a finger along his cheek, along his chin, golden honeyed skin that stretches taut when he frowns at his reflection in the mirror, a minor razor graze nicking along his jaw and the hard slam of his heart cracking along his ribs when the mark along his cheek doesn’t fade.

‘Huh?’ he says, leaning forward, towards the mirror that fogs with his breath, a hand braced on the porcelain sink, the purpling strands of his hair pulled back by a baby blue headband. Yours, obviously. He’s long since lost the stubbornness of being insecure and uptight about these things, the fabricated fragilities that became too tiring to have when he realised it made you happy to break down those barriers he was so determined to keep. That being said, Rindou knows he’s not as young as he used to be, that the days and weeks of life have caught up to him, whether he’ll admit it or not. It’s been years since you met and the days and weeks of new love have long gone, leaving a soft and peaceful security in your wake.

His finger trails along the crease, a curve like an eyelash along his cheek, cupped around his mouth, the wisp of shorter hairs kissing at his cheekbones as he frowns, confusion and uncertainty slipping over his skin.

He avoids covering it up despite this, the ample tubes and pots of various skincare that neatly line your medicine cabinet stay untouched, but he gingerly touches his cheek, lets a finger trail along the crease even still, wondering if you’ll notice when you kiss him goodbye, sitting up in bed now, the pastel lilac duvet slipping off your shoulders. When the sun brushes against your skin, he halts at the door, the telltale marks and bites left on your neck and chest that leave a thick and dizzying desire in his throat.

He is quiet when he meets Ran an hour later, a sullen type of silence that even Sanzu cannot coax from him, all pointed glances and chewing lips and half hidden behind his hair, as if Ran cannot sense the uncertain and tenuous scowling that he hates he’s still doing this many years later.

Ran slides his chair along, feet propped up on the table, a glass of something dark held between two fingers, deliberate glances from the side of the viridescent violet of his eyes now falling on his Brother who sits back with his arms tightly folded over his chest.

‘So….’ he starts, and leans back in his seat, an eye trained on the way Rindou shuffles further into the leather, haunches and hackles rising on instinct, the turn of his eyes fixed on the mahogany table. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or not?’

Rindou stiffens, turns his cheek away, the flash of his eyes burning luminous as he sinks into the chair and really, it’s silly, he knows this and he hates that he cycles so often around to this behaviour, with Ran, with you, the same vulnerability that’s too terrifying to show despite all you have seen together, as if he is any less just because he feels.

Ran sighs, blows a forceful gust of minty breath between his lips and raises an eyebrow in deliberation. ‘Maybe I can help, whatever it is,’ he says. ‘Did you have a fight or something?’

Rindou churns the words, grinds them between his teeth, soft whispers that take effort, that take the force of him chewing them out from the lump in his throat, all the insecurity that he loathes, that has him stiffening under his Brother’s weighted stare. ‘No, nothing like that.’

‘So? What was it then?’

‘Nothing, just forget it.’

‘Not going to happen Little Brother.’ And Ran grabs the arm of Rindou’s chair, pulls while his foot hooks under the leg, Rindou moving closer despite his ambivalence, and Ran almost chuckles when he audibly hears him scowl, tut under his breath in defiance, feet planted on the floor and dragging across the plush carpet.

He softens a fraction here, a soft and gentle squeeze of his heart, the lump in his throat that seems to scrape against his thoughts when he realises the resistance is so futile because it’s always been like this, Ran pulling him along, coaxing the words from him in a way he’s never given gratitude for before despite how much he cares.

He has a memory, a vague flash of an image behind his eyes, the two of them running, huddled together, Ran coaxing Rindou to show him the cuts and bruises from his overzealous moments during fights, a soft and subdued “you’re such an idiot” that was always laced with affection, a plaster and bandage that Ran was always so quick to have on hand for his little Brother, food that he never ate so Rindou always had more.

‘You’re going to laugh,’ he says and hates it, weak and shamed as the sun climbs over the buildings, the whir of the heating that permeates the otherwise silent room, a raucous laugh from Sanzu that resonates through the gap in the door.

‘Yeah you’re right I am.’

‘See, I knew it-’

‘I’m kidding!’ A beat and Ran turns his chair, stretches his long legs under the table, sitting upright now and turning entirely towards his Brother who blows a wisp of wisp of hair from his forehead. ‘I’m not going to laugh.’

A beat, again, Rindou sharing a glance, a narrowing of his eyes through the individual strands of his hair, conflicted thoughts and fears bouncing around in his head before he uncrosses his arms and flexes his lithe fingers on the arms of the chair.

‘Well?’ Ran says and slides the glass along the table, a faint and chiming click as it meets the decanter.

Rindou knows of course. With Ran, it’s always been a lot harder to tell than it has with him. Ran hides many things well and there’s the assumption that he’s so high above, so far removed, impossibly perfect in all things, that there can never be anything wrong with a man like him who has so much and wants for so little.

But Rindou’s the only one who has been there during those moments between. Gels and creams that Ran diligently applies, as if he can make himself something more than human, nights spent with the three of you sharing confessions by the fireside that the others have no knowledge of, moments in which Ran is not a Haitani, neither of them are, moments in which they are just brothers setting aside their burdens for the promise of light.

He looks at him now, tired eyes that still shine with mirth and exuberance despite himself, despite how exhausted he is and pretends not to be, the weight of all he has seen and shouldered for the both of them, the rock he has carried so that Rindou can stretch his hands a little further, be a little more, worry a little less and his heart fills with something that tastes like gratitude, this many years later when the two of them have grown out of petty jealousies and hurts that never mean anything.

‘Well- it’s just- it’s this okay?’ And Rindou turns, towards the floor to ceiling window, the weak and watery sunlight now dancing over his skin, a hand moving to pull back his hair as he glowers still, chewing haphazardly on his lip in anxiety. He lifts his other hand, touches at the crease in his cheek and points, as if accusatory, at the sharp indent of the skin, a little removed from the dimple in his cheek he’s still so embarrassed by.

Ran frowns, shuffles forward in his chair, eyes narrowing and searching, a slight shake of his head that has his earring tinkling, his rings catching the light as he rests his chin in his palm. ‘I don’t understand, what are you referring to here?’

‘What- what do you mean?’ Rindou points again, a finger zeroing in on the sharp crease, the curve towards his mouth he’s spent the last hour trying to hide behind his permanent scowl. ‘It’s this- this stupid wrinkle right here, I don’t understand how it got here.’

Ran pauses, the light slipping across his eyes, a slow and calculated smirk spreading across his lips as he reaches for the decanter again, deliberate movements that mirror the rise and fall of his eyebrows over the glass. ‘Oh…I think I understand now.’

And he takes a sip, eyes lifting from the glass to Rindou now settling back into a scowl, arms folded again, the crease hidden behind the wisps of hair falling over his forehead.

‘So what is it?’ he asks and purses his lips.

Ran smiles, genuinely, casts a glance towards the window where the sun makes a steady climb over the buildings, a swath of shadow that looms bright over the floor, the sparkle of buttery sunlight falling on his skin as he arches, catlike on the chair and leans back with his eyes closed. ‘Ask your wife when you get home. She’ll know.’

‘What does my Wife have to do with it?’

‘Just ask her, she’ll tell you.’

Rindou slows, as he usually does when you’re mentioned. Erratic heartbeat calmed by the thought of you, a soft and tentative quirk of his mouth that comes unbidden at the image of you, at the mention, at the concept and he finds he can’t help it, that it’s impossible for his body not to betray him like this. So he worries less for a time, touches it tentatively throughout the day, a self conscious glance at the mirror every so often, at his phone screen before it illuminates with the picture of you, his thumb catching on the screen before it fades to black once again. Ran sees, and Ran knows and it’s less subtle when he pats Rindou’s back at the end of the day, a ‘drive safe’ that he leaves pressed to his Brother’s jacket like a charm, and all the worry of being his only family, of knowing he’d die for him at a moment’s notice.

When he returns, a tired and subdued “I’m home Princess” that you hear over the sound of the splash of water slipping down into the bubbly froth of your soak, your chest flutters, as it usually does when you meet the sultry cadence of his voice every day. You wonder if it will ever not be like that, if you’ll ever not feel a better, newer version of yourself with him, a caterpillar shaking off its chrysalis, if there will ever come a point where his hands do not feel safe and strong and perfect on you.

‘I’m in the bathroom Rin,’ you say as he comes around the corner, his jacket held over one arm, sock-clad feet in a matching pair of fur slippers. You’d say it was cute but you know he did it for you anyway. There’s little he doesn’t and you feel spoiled sometimes, unworthy, undeserving, when you find he’s constantly stepping out, stepping in for you, things he does that he never asks for payment for.

‘The water’s still warm, come in baby.’ You lift your arms, and he flushes despite himself, when the water makes a beeline for the dip in your breasts where the bubbles rest, wet skin that’s shiny and luminous under the low lighting, a candle that has the shadow of your cleavage splashed on the wall.

‘You don’t mind?’ And he shrugs his shirt off, his back flexing as he tosses it- and his pants- into the laundry basket, the black swirl of ink swallowing the light, and you press your thighs together on instinct, at the heated flush that crawls along your spine every time.

It’s rather unceremonious when he sits in front of you, his back to your chest, breasts pressing against his shoulder blades, a drawn out sigh spilling past his lips when he leans into you, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair, light scratches against his scalp, lips ghosting over the swell of his muscled shoulder. And you don’t mind at all, the weight of him against your body, the need for support that he’ll never ask for, the give and take that has you drawing out his fatigue with your kisses pressed to his skin.

‘How was your day?’ You lather shampoo in your hands, fingers wrinkly from being submerged for so long, and run them through his hair, down to the tips, a gentle massage of his scalp that has him biting back a groan as he settles against your chest.

‘It was okay, the usual.’ He keeps it clipped, firm, enough, because he likes hearing you more, the soft and sweet lilt of your voice he keeps close to his chest, in his heart for safekeeping, tucked away behind the guns and blood, the countless deaths he’s seen and caused.

‘Just okay?’

‘Just okay.’ A beat, a long and pregnant pause. And then- ‘Actually…’

‘Yeah?’ You pause, your hands braced on the showerhead, warm water slipping over the soft and bronzed swell of his shoulders. ‘Close your eyes- I need to rinse.’

His eyes flutter shut, a warm sigh, a flush on his skin that isn’t just the water. He lifts his hands, massages your thighs splayed on either side of him, calloused fingers inching dangerously close to that patch of sensitive skin and it feels…nice to be touched like that for the both of you. He thinks of how easy it is to be taken care of by you, how the need is never shameful, never something he feels guilty for wanting, how he’s taken care of and loved so perfectly and maybe it has changed him in some way, down to the fibre of his bones, a lighter, softer version of him that he reserves just for you.

‘Mhm, yeah, Ran wanted me to ask you something- said you’d know the answer,’ he says, over the splash of water, bubbles receding now to where they cling at the sides of the tub.

‘Go on.’

There is water splashing over his eyes and he lifts his hands momentarily to push his bangs back, his forehead glistening with soap, the suds clinging to the soft and inviting swell of his shoulders and you resist the urge to kiss- to bite- to sink your lips against the toned muscle.

'Mhm, you know…lots of things don't you princess?' he says, a hand now splayed across your thigh on the right side again, thumb grazing the soft inside, shiny skin now covered with a wet and tantalising sheen.

You suck in a breath, your hand juddering, stuttering against the roots on his scalp, a soft massage and rake of your nails along the fine wet hairs. 'Y-Yeah? I know some things baby, what is it you need exactly?' And his thoughts are far away, long and lithe fingers grazing the back of your thighs as he lifts them to squeeze at, the imprint of his hands leaving a rosy red on your skin and you shudder, your arms brushing his as you run your hands through his hair and squeeze the ends.

And then he turns his head, a hand braced over the lip of the bathtub, wet hair now splayed across his shoulder and points to his cheek, where the offending crease now curls at the side of his mouth. ‘Can you tell me what this is? It’s been bothering me all day, and Ran said I should ask you and that you’d know and I hate seeing it and-’

‘Rindou.’

‘Yeah?’

You soften, a hand moving from the water to cup his cheek, water slipping down your forearm, off the crook of your elbow where the soap suds gather and cling before dropping with a plink. He sinks, unbidden against your palm, eyelashes kissing at his cheek from where you run your thumb across his cheekbone, eyes flitting and fluttering closed as a soft sigh spills past his reddened lips.

‘You are very cute, do you know that?’ you say and your fingers drift to the back of his neck, a light trail of soft touches, the water-roughened pads of your fingers skimming across his neck, the spill of ink on the dip of his throat, Adam's apple sliding and shifting under your touch and he makes a choked sound, something between a gasp and a cough, clearing his throat in a way that does little to hide the creeping embarrassment in his chest.

‘If- if you’re just going to make fun I’m going to-’

‘Shhhh,’ you say, a slight lean forward that has your nose bumping his, a slight pull of your hand to bring him closer, your breath now ghosting over the soft cupid’s bow of his shell pink lips, glistening and pearly under the light. ‘I’m not making fun of you, but you really are quite special aren’t you? I’m so lucky to have you.’

He swallows, presses a chaste peck to your lips that he knows will lead to more, as if often does, and his hand comes to hold your chin, fingers that grip your jaw just right, your hair falling over his knuckles and clinging, as you do, to the fibre of him. He wonders if the charged moments like this will ever feel less electric and he dreads that one day it might feel like a chore to kiss you like this, to hold you in his hands with the rough fingers grazing a line along your sensitive neck and it aches inside when he thinks of ever not having you, of ever not seeing you again.

‘I don’t understand what you mean, don’t you think it’s serious? It means I’m ageing doesn’t it? I’m getting old.’ He hates that there’s a waver in his voice then, a tremble that seems to reverberate with the lump in his throat, a horrible and terrifying insecurity that now lays itself bare before you.

You click your tongue, a soft smile that tugs at your lips and you stroke his cheek, thumb moving over the crease back and forth. ‘It’s a smile line silly. That’s why Ran wanted you to ask me. It’s what happens when you’re happy a lot.’

‘A smile line? I don’t understand, don’t most people hate them?’

‘Well I don’t. I’d rather you be happy, and to know you’re happy, makes me happy too. To know that you like your life with me, makes me feel very lucky.’

‘Oh. But it makes me look older doesn’t it?’

You tilt your head to the side, a slide of your hair against your skin, your chest now close enough to brush his, the goosebumps prickling across your arms. ‘No, it doesn’t. And y’know what Rin, so what if it did? You are all the more handsome and sexy and gorgeous to me, and that won’t change if you get older. I’m not getting any younger either.’

It grates on him that it hurts inside, that it makes sense. But it does, really does. When he thinks of how many smiles he fights watching you sleep, watching you dream, kisses pressed to your forehead, to your cheeks and the back of your hands where he grins when you flush and look away and the concept of running home to you hasn’t changed in all these years. He thinks, after this long, the excitement might have worn off if you’d been anyone else, if he’d been any less in love and any less willing.

‘But you’ll always be pretty to me,’ he says, matter of factly, and unaware of how the heat rises to your cheeks so overtly, as if it’s the simplest thing to believe, as if it’s an irrefutable fact. Because it is to him.

‘And you’ll always be the most handsome, sexy, beautiful man ever to me too.’ And damn him, for how your voice wobbles now, how the tears gather on your lashes so easily, pulled so freely, how it aches and stings your chest with so much love to see him so earnest, the flecked hue of his eyes where your reflection shimmers under the candlelight. You press a soft kiss to the crease and his eyes widen, an almost apprehensive stiff frown that bleeds into love when your lips touch his cheek again on the other side.

He pulls you first then, your chin still in his hand, a heated press of his lips to yours, slotting so softly, a perfect fit that has you eliciting a small gasp, and his tongue touches yours tentatively, shyly even, a bare and wispy brush that has you leaning further into him. And when you break, the thin line of saliva does too, a string that falls onto your chin.

It’s an hour later when the two of you are back in bed, glowing with the aftermath of sex and now huddled under the covers, you on his chest and him winding the ends of the duvet around his fingers. There is much talking in those moments, a little after, when he glows and giggles and laughs and pulls you close enough to feel the warmth of you on him, when time is everlasting and waiting in the palms of his hands, when the two of you are infinite.

You get a call from Ran a day later, a quick and quiet ‘thank you, for everything you do for him,’ and you bask in the unspoken love and understanding the three of you share, the golden thread that ties you all together. You know they’re long past it now, days of green and simmering jealousy that always permeated every sarcastic word. You know that’s part of growing up, and they have and it’s easier now, when they are old enough to appreciate each other and hold tighter to the memories they share.

Maybe you are right, Rindou thinks as he dresses for work in the morning, leaving the sleeping you in the warm confines of your soft and perfumed bed. Maybe it’s not so bad.

Does it bother him that he’s shrugged off this old version of himself for you? The old him that found fault often, that ran headfirst into cynicism because it’s what he knew, what he was used to, that was gruff and aggressive and awkward because it hurt to be anything otherwise. Does it bother him that you’ve changed him enough for it to be so visceral?

It should, and yet it doesn’t. He likes it in fact and maybe, just maybe, he finds himself not biting back the smile when he kisses you before setting off, a lingering press of his lips to yours, that tells you everything he can’t.

a/n: hi, this was actually a present for my dear @tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang (i am so sorry it came so late but I hope you like it anyways) between writing and trying to find a new job, it's been tough to find the time and motivation, but I enjoyed writing this, I kinda cried like a few times y'know, as you do lol. Enjoy everyone!

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